Original Letter

France.                        3rd Jan. 1918

 

My Own:–

Last night when rations were due (mail comes with the rations) a runner came in with word that there had been an accident and that parties would have to go down and rescue them. The thought of that mail being delayed was too much for me and I wakened Turkey and flew off with the party. After stumbling along in the dark for over a mile we met another runner who told us that everything was jake and that they were coming. So we put back. There was a huge Canadian mail but damall for Turk or me. We gave the Old Sweats yell several times and Turk swore solemnly that he never would write another whizz bang! I didn’t feel very glad and gave the service a fair class of setting out breaking all my good resolutions about profanity, in the giving. I’m an impatient devil, but why shouldn’t I want a letter?

I am going up to night to see Tommy Morrison. He has been mentioned in despatches and everybody is as pleased as punch about it. C.S.M.’s do not get much of a chance to win things in the field and before he was a CSM this lot didn’t do much recommending. And anyway its pretty nice for Tommy.

To-day is a beautiful day and I have been out two or three times this morning – just for a minute – looking things over. Its a bewildering waste hereabout – was a town once. And its a paradise for a salvager. War is a frightful waste and I can’t help thinking that people who actually live or lived in districts that have been fought over would prefer peace even if it involved a change of flag to the total destruction of their homes their trees and even their land. But perhaps not, patriots are queer and have queer ideas, and God be praised, the patriot who lived here had a good cellar.

We leave here to-morrow night for a little while, anyway, and I shall regret it, of course. But the only move that really interests me is the one to Bernay – the others are only incidents.

I haven’t told you, Dear, but I love you to-day and my head is swimming with it, uproariously that’s the way I love you, Dearest, and its lovely to be in love. I want you. I’m just crazy for you, Baby. I must have you very soon. With all my love Sweetheart.

            Your own Ross

Photographs

Bernay: