I don't know which was worse, the lumpy soup or the lumpy bed.

My mother gave me maybe 150 to 200 letters, […] all rubber banded together month by month and in dates.

I'll see you later down the pub.

But what could you do about bombs dropped on you from the air? Especially in the dead of night. The idea of being killed in your sleep by an enemy you'd never even seen was horripilating.