Sergeants’ Mess.      
R.A.F. Upper Heyford,   

17th June 1940    

Dear Mother,

          Thank you for your congratulatory note, even though the address was a trifle premature, and the rank unnecessarily large.   It happened that I received three letters from various people, all addressed to the Officers' Mess, and I got chipped about it the whole day.   You see, the Air Ministry authority confirming the commission has not yet arrived here, and I cannot get a uniform or move into the Mess until the Adjutant receives it.   Anyway, if you write again before you hear that I have moved, please address it to the Sergeants’ Mess.   I have been trying to get the Adjutant to take some action in the matter, but although he is sympathetic he is also apathetic, and I have not met with great success.   However, I think he will have to do something soon, as he will get fed up with seeing me before very long.   Even when the confirmation does arrive, I don't know whether I shall be able to get home or not – we’re worked to death here, and judging by the news, we are not likely to see an improvement in the future.

          What will Dad have to do - has he gone to Wales yet, or is it Devonshire?   If he has gone, would you let me have his new address so that I can write to him?
          I suppose Tom and Alan will be carrying on as usual - Tom did speak of closing the college to all but a very few blokes, but I don't suppose they have done that yet.

          I had a reminder the other day of the lovely holidays we used to have in Devonshire, and the motor trips to Cornwall.   I saw Lundy Island from a somewhat different angle - took a running fix on it with a bearing compass - and flew back low over Dartmoor, past Exeter, from Bodmin to Yeovil in Somerset.   The country looked marvellous in the sun, and the sea - we went about a hundred miles out - was just grand.   I wish we could have got out for a walk along the shore - actually we landed at St Merryn, which is right on the coast, near Newquay, but there wasn't time to go down to the shore.   

          I wonder when we shall next get a holiday in Devon - not long, I hope.

          Cheerio now, love to all, 
                  from Geoffrey (P/O, almost)