The Jones boys

Hannah Teale
Oct 30, 2020
2 min read

Updated: May 3, 2023

Judging from letters, Innes and Linton were very close. Their letters are filled with banter, jokes, and anecdotes.

In a letter dated February 13th, 1941, Innes writes to Linton from Burnham Military camp:

"I can almost picture the scene you describe during the bi-annual overhaul of the water system, and you tell Dad that if he possesses such knowledge of water pumps, why on earth did he allow his two growing boys to develop headaches trying to puzzle out it's mysteries on so many occasions! In any case, I hope you have made the thing work well enough for me to take a decent bath when I get home."

In Linton's letter home in June of 1942 he writes:

"And how are you all keeping? Look after yourselves, won't you, and if you are not feeling too good Dad, cut the cows down a bit, so as Innes can manage on his own. We'll scratch up a few bob after the war, from somewhere, to buy some more. And as for you Mother, if you like to get someone to give you a hand occasionally, you can pay them out of that money I sent home. Keep fit, for God's sake. That is the worst part of being so far away, wondering if you are all well."

"If you should feel the desire to take unto yourself a wife, brother, don't worry about my not being there for the ceremony. About time you took the matrimonial plunge anyway, and you wouldn't be quite so lonely. Just one thing, if you should do so, warn the old girl that the other half of the bed is still mine, and she will have to sleep on her own when I get home - most times anyway!"

Above: Linton with two of the family dogs, 1941.

Above: Linton asking Innes to give the dogs a bone for him.

Above: Linton mentioning the dogs again, at the end of his letter.

Above: Linton with one of the family dogs, 1941.

Above: Linton sitting on the house cow, 1941. Notice the dog behind the cow.

In a letter to Kitty just after Linton's death, Innes wrote:

"It is virtually impossible for me to explain the empty void which now exists in our home, once so tranquil and happy, and content with its own completeness. Now completely overburdened with a deep sense of sadness and irrevocable loss."