Original Letter

France 2nd Jan’y 1918


My Own Dearest:–

The mailman played me false last night, curse him! I was right on my toes when the mail bag came in and dug out the bundle of letters with dexterity born of long practice (more ‘cat on his feet’ stuff). But there was no letter and now I am fuss budget for two to-night. We have just dined, Turkey and I sitting on the side of the faithful chicken wire bed. I waken Turkey for lunch (delete lunch and substitute dinner) and supper and regale him while we eat with the dope which has developed while he was asleep. Today when I wakened him his first question was “was there a rum issue this morning”? and when I told him there hadn’t been he said “well, I haven’t missed anything. Some time in the past he must have slept through a rum issue and it is his chief ha’nt. (haunt.)

Last night I didn’t sleep pretty well and I had some good old thinks about you. It is always in my thoughts, Dear, the miracle you are. You are so wonderful, so utterly adorable, so very far above me. I adore you and I am lost in love of you. There is no one in the world who can compare with you, Sweetheart. These things are not new, they are as old as our love but sometimes, Maidie, when I let my dreams go I am so intoxicated by the wonder of you that I am afraid. And I shall never know you – all of you. Every day I was ever with you, Dear, I learned some new wonderful phase of you. Sometimes, – always, I believe, I feel mighty rebellious about this war. Gone are all the glorious ideas about honour la Patrie. I think it all just a huge conspiracy to keep me away from the most wonderful girl in the world.

We are awfully comfortable here but the days seem to go slowly all I look for is the mail and the end of the tour. For I am very lonesome, Dear, it is years since I saw you and I am honing for you. Will you be awfully glad to see me, Dearest, honest, will you

            I love you Dear.



[on the reverse of the last page is written:]

I have never told you about the rabbits foot I pack with me. I shall to-morrow. Ross