Original Letter

            France.             4th Jany 1918

 

My Mary:–

To-day is the anniversary of my first day in the Army! Three years. Lord! it seems like thirty three. But if ever I get out of this it will never happen again, never.

I had a lovely wallow last night for the mail did bring me three letters, right up to date. The last one being the one from Paris. But the one that I liked best of all was the letter of the 24th, because in it you loved me such a lot and you were glad about my poor little funs and you said nice things about the ‘R’ in Rackie – all three were great but that one especially so.

I could not have been listening when you asked me if I minded your going to Paris to meet Leicester – or else you only thought you asked me. But anyway, Dearest, it isn’t the slightest bit necessary for you to ask me about things you want to do. Of course I should feel very badly if you didn’t tell me every thing you did but at the same time I made a horrible mess of things last year and I would not dream of ever repeating it. I haven’t yet nearly got over the relief I experienced when you forgave me then. I never shall. Anyway it cured me. And besides you told me that it didn’t matter what I said you would do what ever you wanted to do any way. That’s “obeying” if you like – I really should have spanked you for that. I don’t remember why I didn’t, now. Mary, Sweetheart, anything, everything you do is right and I refuse to enter into any controversy over it. Where, in all the world is there another like you? I am bewildered by the miracle of your loving me and so long as you do love me I can never believe that this isn’t the best old world that ever was. Your love, Dear, has made life a very wonderful thing there never was love like it.

I am sure that you had a beautiful time in Paris. Paris must be wonderful but being there with anyone who appreciates things as Bill does makes it an extra special holiday. I feel very badly about your not having any nice clothes, Dear, you should really get things you need, you know. Its all very well to be careful and economical but you mustn’t let yourself be old rag-bag.

When I went to bed last night Turk and Bobbie Forrest, our runner were busy fixing up a brazier. They got it going with coke and nearly gassed all of us. I have a taste in my mouth this morning like the bottom of a bird cage. To-day Bobbie is going over to reconnoiter our new digging and try to salvage an old stove for our corner. He is very Scotch and very willing and funny withal. When he gets his balaclava on he just looks exactly like a Brownie. He is very dark and has black black eyes – when he gets excited or angry they just blaze. He was furious when he found out the other night that I had gone up with the Adjutant. Turk told me afterwards that he blazed up at him with “What in the world are you thinking of letting him go out like that”? He refused to go to bed until I came home and next day he gave me a very earnest, very polite, scolding. Both Turk and I think the world of him.

Baby Grassal must be mighty acuté, and from what you tell me of her I like her. I like them all and am awfully anxious to see them. But I am far more than anxious to see you, Sweetheart, I am just about wild to see you. Sometimes I have a fierce struggle to keep from saying “to hell with you all and your silly old war I’m going where I belong to my own wife”! If it would do any good I would say it in a second.

Dearest, I do love you to-day with all my love – it’s a lot of love, that if you only knew. If it were concrete it would make a very big heap I know, far bigger than the world. Of course my answer would be “how would it be”? but I couldn’t say it right out like that, I’d have to not look at you. Dearest, I love you, your Ross

 

Photographs

Grassal: