T. E. Lawrence to his mother

338171 A/c Shaw
R.A.F. Cattewater
Plymouth

12.3.29

There, that is the address. I like the little camp. Only 100 of us live in it: the other 50 airmen are natives, and live in the town. The huts and sheds fill the whole of a little promontory (like a petrified lizard's bones) which runs out from a green hill into the Sound, facing Plymouth across about a mile of water.

The camp is comfortable, and the airmen say it is a happy place. So that is hopeful hearing: only everything is brand-new as yet, and nothing has yet settled in or down. The sunlight and the sea's nearness (50 yards on one side of our hut, 30 yards on the other) and the grass, make it lively. To get into Plymouth is a break-neck ride up and down twisting hill roads. Wherefore most people with bicycles ride out into the country, and take a ferry when they want to see the town. Nothing else, I fancy. I hope Bob got his little pamphlet: it was posted on Thursday, in London.

N.