
I have a kneejerk reaction to the word "Spitfire," thanks to many years of reading swoony books about people with Romantic Problems During War Time. Let's see what Informative Caption has to say: "Prince Harry flies in the back of a Spitfire on a sortie from Goodwood, West Sussex, via the Isle of Wight. The flight was to promote his Spitfire scholarship, which offers training for wounded servicemen and women... The scholarship draws inspiration from the pilot Douglas Bader, who flew throughout the Second World War with 20 individual aerial victories despite losing both his legs in 1931." WELL. Now I also want to read THAT BOOK.

Also: " Prince Harry -- or Captain Wales, as he is known in the British Army -- will end his military career with a month long secondment to the Australian Defence Force in barracks in Sydney, Perth and Darwin." REPORT BACK, SYDNEY, PERTH, AND DARWIN. Aw, Australia in the fall. No better time to meet a friendly, brainy blonde with a heart of gold and a rollicking sense of humor to bring home to be ruthlessly veted by brother and sister-in-law.

Harry of course visited the Australian War Memorial in Canberra, as well he ought. It does look like a really beautiful space.

"No, you're literally not allowed to make an official visit without doing this. It's so photogenic! Also meaningful."

Yet another glorious opportunity for a book cover. Like, say, Harry: Tales from the Spare..

He looks terrifically dashing, but look at all the medals on the distinguished sir behind him!

SO much dashing about on this visit so far. Which is fine with me. Dashing is delightful.

Also, of course, plenty of useful signing.

"Yes, yes, I know. You can't resist me when I've got the spurs on. Meet me at the hotel bar in ten."
