Original Letter

            France.

                        23rd March, 1918.

 

My Dearest Maidie:–

It has been a good kind of a day – viewed from any angle. The weather, for instance is gorgeous, things generally have gone smoothly and to crown all I had the most beautiful letter from you that I ever did have and that is saying something. I was just easy-ing along, loving you a lot when I got it but as I read along through cette lettre I just turned seventeen different kids of mental handsprings – for a reviver it had new wine looking like warm medicine. Honest, Baby do you love me like that? Of course you do but it takes me breath away and it makes me realise that I perfectly well ‘aint’ worthy to have all the love of such a very wonderful Sweetheart as you are. But saying that I am not worthy does not imply that I am not capable of loving you a tremendous lot as I do to-day. I just adore you every minute of to-day and of every day. You sweetheart, I sleep and wake and live every minute of my life thinking of you and loving you. You are everything in my life and I have neither thought nor wish for anything or anybody else.

It must have been good the old man kidding Madame Corborron. I am sure the old dame enjoyed every fleeting second of it aussi. They are fun the French – although they have a queer line of humour – it would never do with us. No? Well perhaps not – I mean to say!

Its funny that my letters take eight days to reach you, yours only take six or seven generally. Of course sometimes our service is upset or slow, but taken by and large its good. Everything is good in this war except war and the people who start it. Those last too, will get their reward and soon I hope. I feel far more hopeful than I ever did these days and I have never been pessimistic. Perhaps its because I am bolstered up by “Land & Water” W.C.2 which is toujours firm in its belief and bases its hopes for an early and successful termination on statements which appear incontrovertible – that’s not bad for a man who only had bacon and bread for petit dejeuner, isn’t it? Anyway to me, it appears that the end is very close and I am building my hopes high. I must get back to you for always very soon, Dear, being away from you is unbearable, without you life is nothing – its a blank. Two months are almost gone of the six I must wait out before seeing you and those two have been long months. I have never been so lonesome as since I left you this last time. What you say in your letter is quite true, Dear. I have been leaving you always. All our time spent together is marred by the spectre of leaving being always before us. Here’s hoping that the day when we shall be together for toujours will soon come. I wish it were yesterday.

I do very well remember your room on Avenue Road, every little detail of it and everywhere else that I ever saw you. The Amie, for instance when we watched the New Year in. How could I be expected to see any change in the sky when I could not look anywhere but in your glorious eyes and I didn’t see any change there, they have always been the same true honest, laughing, loving eyes mirroring the soul of their Owner, my own Dearest. I love you, my angel.

            Your own

                        Ross