Original Letter

France.

                        3rd March 1918

My Dearest Maidie:–

Every day a letter but to-day it was a lonesome one. Poor old Baby, she was a lonesome coon when she wrote cette lettre. But you mustn’t ever be blue, Dear, for lo! in a scant four months and the odd day or two shall we not be together laughing about it all. And above all you must not worry about my safety – its a joke, you know, because I am as safe as a church – honest, I am. And right at present – well I am as far from danger as you are and just as comfortable. But even when I am in I am tout à fait safe so please keep on never worrying. I didn’t have half a sleep in my good bed last night – not blooming ’arf, I didn’t. I never wakened or stirred even from ten last night until seven this morning. Now when I am sleeping on a floor – I don’t ever sleep like that generally I waken up plusière fois and listen to the rats, getting the odd thrill from the thought that at the very moment one might have crawled down inside my blankets and be asleep there. But they don’t faze me very much any more. I am getting tough, I expect – seasoned campaigner – that sort of thing.

Charley Holmes and I have a good idea. We are going to draw our own rations and the bonne femme at his house is going to cook them – this will set us back two francs per week per snout. In addition we will purchase the occasional ouef ( that’s not spelled right!) and so live in affluence and luxury. Its a great life and only a little over four months to another leave! All my indisposition of the past two or three weeks have vanished and I am feeling finer than silk. At the same time I am far more lonesome than ever before. What have you done to me, Dear? I know I am bewitched properly. I just dream and wonder all day long, Dearest, I love you all the time. But why wouldn’t I? For you are the dearest, sweetest angel that ever did happen. I adore you, Sweetheart.

            Your own Ross