Sergeantsí Mess.      
R.A.F. Station,     
Upper Heyford,   

6th June 1940    

Dear Dad,

          I'm sorry I had not written sooner, but I was trying to get some positive information about the position here.   It appears that the Grantham commission's have not yet come through, so that I am quartered in a Barrack Block and Sergeantsí Mess once more.   However, I have communicated with the Chief Ground Instructor at Grantham, and I expect he will be able to tell me whether we are going to get them or not.  There's no reason to suppose that we shall not eventually be told to move into the Mess, but we hope it won't be long. 

          This is indeed a disappointing place.   To begin with, it is only an Operational Training Unit instead of a proper squadron, and our first week's work consists of lectures from 8:30am until 7:30pm.   For the fortnight after that, we do Navigation flights in Ansons, and eventually we learn to fly the Hampdens.   We later go to Porthcawl, S. Wales, for air gunnery and bombing.   The first three weeks are not going to be too exciting, but I expect the remaining five should be fairly interesting.

          Today we have been shooting on the range, and I won a 6/- kitty for being the best shot with a 0.455 Eley Colt automatic.   Fortunately the instructors so far have been very decent blokes, but I don't much like the higher authorities.   It is definitely not a very good station, and to add to our troubles there is an acute water shortage, so that we can't even wash when we want to.   However, I suppose it could be worse, and the Sergeants Mess isn't too bad. 

          Anyhow, I hope to give you some good news during the next few days. 

          Cheerio for now, 
                from your loving son,  Geoff.