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55 To Christopher Tolkien

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[Christopher had now left for South Africa, where he was to train as a pilot. This is the first of a long series of letters to him, which were numbered, for reasons which Tolkien gives here.]

18 January 1944

20 Northmoor Road, Oxford

Fæder his þriddan suna (1)1

My dearest,

I am afraid it is a very long time (or it seems so: actually it is about 8 days) since I wrote; but I did not quite know what to do, until we got your letter yesterday. . . . . I am glad my last long letter caught you before you went! We don’t know yet, of course, just when that was, or whither. . . . .

I gave 2 lectures yesterday, and then conferred with Gabriel Turville-Petre2 about Cardiff. . . . . I managed just to catch the last post with my Cardiff report. Then I had to go and sleep (???) at C. HeadQ.3 I did not – not much. I was in the small C33 room: very cold and damp. But an incident occurred which moved me and made the occasion memorable. My companion in misfortune was Cecil Roth (the learned Jew historian).4 I found him charming, full of gentleness (in every sense); and we sat up till after 12 talking. He lent me his watch as there were no going clocks in the place: – and nonetheless himself came and called me at 10 to 7: so that I could go to Communion! It seemed like a fleeting glimpse of an unfallen world. Actually I was awake, and just (as one does) discovering a number of reasons (other than tiredness and having no chance to shave or even wash), such as the desirability of getting home in good time to open up and un-black and all that, why I should not go. But the incursion of this gentle Jew, and his sombre glance at my rosary by my bed, settled it. I was down at St Aloysius at 7.15 just in time to go to Confession before Mass; and I came home just before the end of Mass. . . . . I lectured at 11 a.m. (after collecting fish);5 and managed to have a colloguing with the brothers Lewis and C. Williams (at the White Horse).6 And that is about all the top off the news as far as I am concerned! Except that the fouls7 do not lay, but I have still to clean out their den. . . . .

I start to-day numbering each letter, and each page, so that if any go awry you will know – and the bare news of importance can be made up. This is (No. 1) of Pater ad Filium Natu (sed haud alioquin) minimum:8 Fæder suna his ágnum, þám gingstan nalles unléofestan.9 (I suppose a professor of Old English may be permitted to use that language to a former pupil?: query for ref. to censor, if any). I can’t write Russian and find Polish rather sticky yet. I expect poor old Poptawski10 will be wondering how I am getting on, soon. It will be a long time before I can be of any assistance to him in devising a new technical vocabulary!!! The vocab. will just happen along anyway (if there are any Poles and Poland left). . . .

The Letters of J. R. R. Tolkien

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