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Bridlington
Yorks.

25.2.35

Dear J.B.

This new style portends my discharge from the R.A.F.
Tomorrow you and I will be alike in one respect - as old
Colonels: neither of us, probably, ever using the rank ourselves,
but given it by an ignorant public habitually.

Today I have posted you the typescript (about 60000
words) of my R.A.F. journal. You said I might, in your
last letter; but I send it apologetically. Typescripts are messy
to read. You are a busy man. The story has more shadow
than sunlight in it. Its language is often grossly obscene,
for it is the language of the troops. And besides I have a
fear that in it I have given away my limitations
more bluntly than I would wish.

However, there it is. The fragment is unpublished,
and not-likely-to-be-published. I suspect it is better
writing than my Seven Pillars, and if you could confirm that
suspicion, I might be tempted into trying to write something
again. Retirement without plan is rather a daunting