Original Letter

France

                        19th December 1917.

 

My Dearest Maidie:–

this is our last night in this perfectly good wholesome healthy place. To-morrow, as ever was will find us hitting the grit for some place where every prospect displeases – or should do – and only man is worth while. And I’m glad to be off, even if the walk is long and the pack is heavy. And I am sure that to-morrow night I shall not be suffocated in a feather bed or worry for fear of the electric light shining out through the blind. Even in the full assurance of all these possibilities I am glad to be on the Broad Highway again. On the other hand I am almost sure that to-morrow night I shall be thinking – perhaps a little mournfully  of the warmth and comfort of this good billet. Mais, que voulez-vous, c’est la guerre.

There wasn’t any mail to-day, gol durn it! And it’s a certified cynch that there will not be any to-morrow. But shan’t I just be glad to get three the next day? Won’t I, I ask you? All afternoon off and on I’ve been getting my junk ready for the road. And I certainly must weigh that bunch of stuff one day – it must weigh a ton at least. When I start out with it first it feels like about thirty pounds but at the end of a perfect days march well, it would take a crane to lift it.

An officer from the 10th called today. I’ve forgotten his name but I believe it was Knowles. I met him when I was coming up that time – he was with Bill Leicester. He tells me that Bill has gone to Blighty on leave. Its nice and lucky isn’t it getting Christmas at home.

I shall not get away until we come out the next time which will not be until after Christmas. Its just the tristest thing I ever heard of and its made me sick. At that know that it will be a Merry Christmas here especially as I had my face all puckered for spending Christmas with you. The time doesn’t matter so much so long as it is soon. I mean one time isn’t much different from another when I am with you. Its heaven always. When I think of the absolute perfect happiness I enjoy when we are together I can’t figure out how I ever brought myself to leave you. I cannot see how anyone could ever love any person so much as I love you. For, Dearest, you fill my life absolutely full my thoughts, and even the things I do and say are all influenced by you. It’s kind of scaring but its wonderful. Tell me, Baby, do you love me like that?

            Your own

                        Ross 

Photographs

Bill Leicester: Bill Leicester: