Original Letter

France. 10th Jany. 1918

My Own Dearest:–

I got two letters last night – the one you wrote on the second and one that I mourned as lost – my letter of the thirty first. And I took it in and warmed it and made a fuss over it for it was lost and found again. You must have given it to someone to post for it never did get into the mail until the second! But anyway its here with its friend of the second and I am loving them every minute. The last four days were letterless and they have been hellish – what enrages me is to know that my letters are on the way to me but are being held up here and there and far oftener by red tapish schemes than by any break down.

Miller came up on an errand yesterday and told me that he had seen letters for me when the mail clerk was sorting in the morning. I was furious with him for not bringing them and had the good impulse to seize him by the neck. I and my letters from you, a tigress and her cubs – there’s no difference. I read my two letters a good many times last night after I went to bed and I have read them again this morning.

I am an awfully impatient devil, especially where letters are concerned and any night that the rations happen to be late I’m for plunging right out to meet them. Old fuss budget.

Long ere this you are back home in the bosom of your famille. There just isn’t anything like the way I want to be there with you, Dearest, my heart is broke with wanting you. I like the sound of the Grandmother Batchelor’s place – long before you went there and got treated so nicely she had won a home with me – that pie did the trick. God bless them all.

I heard the funniest thing in life last night. Bobby and another Scotchmen were with some others on duty on an outpost one night. It was very dark and presently they spotted someone. Bobby and the other Scot promptly threw caution to the winds went out and captured a prisoner and without any delay rushed him down in the dark to Coy Headquarters. When they got him in to the light they discovered that their ‘prisoner’ was an Imperial, a corporal who had got lost on patrol. He was so scared that he couldn’t talk as he thought the Germans had him. As Bobbie speaks very broad Scotch especially when excited a Sassenach might be forgiven for thinking he was Heinie. Bobby referred to this evening as “the night me and Jack Murray captured the Imperial.” Some of the stories are immense.

To-night will be back in our good little room with all the comforts of home and I am glad. This place is too oppressive – and I got letters every day in that other place. I think that I shall change with Turk and let him work in the day. I don’t like being inside all day long. At night there are not such a hell of a lot of places to walk. At that, when I come to think of it there are more places one can walk at night than in the day – more healthy like. But who wants to go stumbling round aimlessly in the dark? Pas moi.

You loved me a lot in those two letters last night, Dearest, you do love me a lot don’t you. But its nothing to the way I love you, Dear, not this morning anyway. Now when you get this letter just try and remember if at 11.20 a.m. Thursday morning your heart was beating twice as fast as usual with love. If you can remember and it wasn’t, well I win. Angel I adore you always.

            Your own Ross