T. E. Lawrence to H. G. Hayter

Cattewater
Plymouth

26.VI.29

Dear Hayter

I am a miserable slut not to have written to you before. Alas, I'm so weary of being yet a crawler on the surface of the earth that I would rather sleep than eat or think or work or read or write. Too lazy even to put a record on the gramophone.

You did very well to let F/Lt Smetham have those records: and he stumped up decently for them. I hope that 28 Sqdn. have settled in peacefully and are decent souls. How's Corpl. Easton? Tell him to come home. England is better then Miranshah.

I've got my AMWO's published, about bayonets to church and overcoat top buttons. Now I want bayonets declared obsolete and kit inspections made annual. After that we must wash out sticks. O Lord: and I am so tired, and want so much to lie down and sleep or die. Die's best: because there is no reveille. 

Tell Corpl. Easton that his wife is looking ever so much better. She and I sat in committee on his last letters. I think all's for the best: except the change of Government, which puts Nancy's nose out of joint. Who's Nancy? Why, ask the Corporal.

Sgt. Cowton I met in London ten days back. We had an 8 o'clock breakfast at Lyons in the Strand on Sunday: when you were in bed and your hound on top of you. Peggy-Wegs Erben, a photographer from Miranshah, turned up here yesterday, disguised as a Corporal. So you can hope. Cattewater is very good: but I am too tired for a MacDonald. If it was Miranshah I would dodge under a net and forget my sins and the world's weariness. 

Oh, the books. I got bundle upon bundle of them, and Sgt. Cowton has others. Every possible thanks be given to you. My new bike is a peach. 4000 miles, only, on it: but all good. Alas, how tired I am of bikes and books and music and food and drink and words and work.

T.E.S.