This joint (Bossington House) belongs to Sir Richard Fairey and the (river) Test flows past the bottom of the park. It also teems in pheasant. I am due out today and have planned to go to town and then to Deal to see Aunt Vivy, as I am not required until the next course on the 6th. I telephoned W/C Plumtree at Hawarden on this. But I spend 1/9 last night on telephone calls trying to get a bed at one of the London service clubs, without any success, nor could I contact Aunt Vivy, as they said she was not in the telephone book. So it all looks a bit grim as I want to go to town to take my uniform back to Flights, and also for other things which I shall most certainly not get, having no one as I do.
Typhoons scream overhead here, and pheasants and coots scream in the grounds, and I rampage in bed with my usual trouble. I know what I should like in London, but it looks as though it may be difficult even to get there.
A Story of War 
On November 29, 1944, my father wrote his father that he was in England. He had come to England with his combat crew to serve with the 8th Air Force on B-17s. Within several weeks, he would be assigned to the 390th Bombardment Group stationed near Framlingham.