Anzio is about 120 nautical miles from Salerno, on the west coast of Italy, and in January 1944 a convoy of 374 Allied ships took 25 hours to get there, at an average speed of barely five knots. They crawled towards their destination, trying to make as little giveaway whitewater wake as possible, and allowing for the blunt, roll-on, roll-off bows of so many of their number. They were lucky...
Peter had just reached the top of the third page (‘poor Darling!’) when the war reasserted itself and he had to break off. The letter continues on 19 February – the beginning of the end of the all-out German assault on the beachhead – and apologises for the interruption. In the meantime, presumably, Peter might have been spotted wriggling on his stomach up some muddy wadi or other, en route to his observation post, periscope at the ready.