Victor Paulin to his Aunt, 1918

Lt VR Pauline

No 91 Squadron

Chattis Hill

Stockbridge, Hants

 

Jany 17/18

 

Dear Aunty

 

I would have written you before, had I received your address sooner, but Mother sent it just the other day, so now I am going to try and make up for lost time.  I should have paid more attention to my address book before leaving Victoria, but I did not have an awful lot of time, and Mother came out of the hospital the day before I left, then it was that I commenced to think about these things, when my book was finished no local addresses

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were such at all, ~~~~~  ~~~~~ for England,

 

As she already mentioned, of ~~~ having about addresses at, I must tell you something about myself.

 

I ~~~~~ my arrival in London, and which given ~~~ and of course, ~~~~~much to day out ~~~~~

 

[cannot read the page- photo too blurry]

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said is now taller than I am.  I don’t expect I shall see George until I go to France but I keep in touch with him by letter, and last I heard he was “still going strong.”

 

I was  on another plane leave last week and went up to B’ham to see Ben, who has a chunk of shrapnel in his hips, and also see Aunt Emmy, to say nothing of cousin “Hilda”, who is some “bird”.  Grace and Renee are both married, so are not half so interesting.

 

Oh yea, I nearly forgot to tell you about Stockbridge, it is some “hole”, we are billeted in all the old houses, the one I am billeted in is called “Grosvenor House”, the name is

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not too bad, but I wish I could say the same for the “residence.”  We have to walk about 2 miles to the squadron over those lovely Roman roads, you know, the kind you read about.  I expect it’s a good stunt to get us ready for France.

 

I have been to London several times now, and can manage to find my way about fairly well, also check up the taxi drivers if they short change me, like they used to.

 

Hoping to hear from you in the near future.

 

Best to Uncle and yourself,

Your affectionate nephew

Victor

 

Victor Paulin to Edith Nickells Paulin, 1917

Stockbridge

Royal Flying Corps

 

December 28, 1917

 

Dear Mother,

 

Steno, I am again just before bed scratching off a few lines, no mail has arrived from Canada yet.  I received a letter from “Ruby”enclosing a picture, of herself, which I answered immediately, she says Wilf has not written her for 12 months.  I wrote back saying I would write him a scolding letter.  I also had letters from Ben, Wilf and George.  Wilf is, at present on leave he is going up to Aberdeen, whatever for

 

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I can’t tell you, and will stay off at B’ham for a day to see Ben.  George hasn’t got anything to say in his letters at all, never mentioned being gassed at all.

 

I expect 4 days leave soon and will go and see Ben and Ruby, also Mrs Pauline in B’ham.  I am afraid I have forgotten if she has children or not, and I might make a break in showing her how ignorant I am regarding some of my relatives.  She has been to see Ben, and asked Ben about “Sid”, Ben didn’t know know of any other “Sid” but Sid Thomson so I concluded it

 

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Must be he.  But couldn’t figure out how “Sid” knew Aunty “Emmy”.  I think thats her name.  I’m only making a rough guess.  So I am going to wait until she writes me, and kind of break the ice a little.  I might get real hold of one of these days and write, “my dear aunt” but no “Emmy”.  It would be a good one on me if I wrote “my dear Aunt Emmy” and her name was “Maud” or something of that kind.

 

How is Dad?  I wrote him about a week ago.  Yes I ought to get a bunch of letters, for the letters are written, I must have scrawled off about 100.

 

I had a quiet Christmas

 

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went for a walk around the courtyards, Hants is a very pretty country.  W is had a y~~~ feed for a change, that was the only thing that made it seem the least bit like Christmas.  I ~~~ was getting better now, but when we ~~~~ here, Wow! W~~ kicked every day, they curse through with a little service.

 

Well Ma, I hope this letter is not a “fearful bore” (English for D- nuisance) it is near the end now.  Love to all, and heaps to Dad and yourself.

 

Your loving son

Victor

PS “How’s Toby” and Mrs Jones?  Don’t confuse the two!

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