Am more or less comfortable on the whole, but running short of socks and hankies. Am also being bitten to death and "hae my doots" about their being mosquitoes. Terrible trouble with machines. I crashed an undercarriage the other day and cannot get an engine to go. Isn't it terrible news about Warneford? He fell out of his machine, not being strapped in. Babington is in hospital. His foot is giving him trouble again, so fear we shall not get away with him yet awhile.
The dust out here is appalling. Will write again as soon as I can.
Best love to all.
Ever your loving son,
Harold.
XXXVI.
To his Father.
No. 1 Squadron, Royal Flying Corps, B.E.F.
24th June, 1915.
Dear Dad,