Pièce 15 - Letter from George to Ruth Mallory, 12 November 1918

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MCPP/GM/3/1/1918/15

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Letter from George to Ruth Mallory, 12 November 1918

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  • 12 November 1918 (Création/Production)

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Letter to Ruth Mallory written from France

Had hardly got back from Geoffrey’s C.C.S. when Trafford arrived and carried him off to stay with him at an aerodrome south of Cambrai. Was delighted to see Trafford who was in tremendous form - happy, gay and full of life. He gave the impression of success. He affected magnificence running about in a splendid Crossley car giving orders like Alexander the Great or Lord Northcliffe or Rockefeller. He enjoyed every detail of a successful action and had a wonderful forward looking conviction and was untroubled by doubts or reflective inconveniences. Didn’t have the air of one who had been through a time of anxiety or felt the burden of responsibility. His success was evident from the engagements and liaisons he had with the big wigs in the Flying Corps and Tank Corps and even the G.O.C. RAF himself.

He was to have stayed overnight but Trafford had been summoned to confer with a General at the Tank Corps.

Last night they celebrated peace in Cambrai at the Officers’ Club. It was a good evening, the kind one would expect from the public school type of British Officer - much hilarity and no drunkenness. The prevalent feeling was the elation that comes after a hard game or race of supreme importance won after a struggle in which everyone had expended himself to the last ounce. He was inundated by waves of untroubled joy which he hadn’t known since war began. He doubted if he had realised before what a load they were carrying about constantly.

Wondered if Fletcher had applied for his release and how soon he would see her again. They would have a wonderful life together and what a wonderful thing they must make of such a gift. He wanted to loose all harshness of jagged nerves and above all be gentle.

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He signs off 'I shall clasp thee again O thou soul of my soul' which is the second last line of the poem Prospice by Robert Browning although the correct quote is 'O thou soul of my soul! I shall clasp thee again'

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