Pal’s hair-raising news from home

On MY third tour of Belize, in 1981, i was serving with the royal Horse artillery as a rEME gun fitter. During morning break, we would shelter from the oppressive heat under open-sided huts made of palm leaves, where we would read our letters from home. on one such occasion, ‘Tommo’ had received a letter from his sister. His expression altered as he read it and we could see he was upset. off he ran to the company office. it was obviously bad news from home, and we expected him to return saying that he’d been given compassionate leave. instead, ten minutes later, Tommo came strolling back, looking a bit subdued. ‘all oK, Tommo?’ we inquired. ‘Yeah, no problem,’ he replied, trying to look cool. We knew that something was amiss, but as it was clearly personal, we didn’t press him. Two weeks later, and after more than a few drinks, Tommo finally opened up and told us what the company commander had said in the office after reading the letter. The advice had been: ‘Your sister’s spelling is poor — and read your letters thoroughly.’ The bottom line of the first page had read: ‘i’m sorry to have to tell you, but mother has died…’ Upon turning the page, it continued: ‘… her hair, and it looks dreadful.’ Even Tommo saw the funny side after a few beers.

Roger Manicom, Weymouth, Dorset.