Original Letter

            France.

                        24th April, 1918.

 

My Dearest:–

Today has been the longest day in the year. I don’t care what arguments anyone brings up in favour of June 21st parce que I didn’t get a letter although I pulled my hardest for one. But I certainly have no kick coming about letters for even if one doesn’t reach me every day I have the satisfaction of knowing that somewhere there is a lady who is writing me a perfectly good letter every night that happens. Well – its great, thats all.

I haven’t any news today not even anything to grouse about for apart from the calamity of not getting a letter it has been a comfortable sort of day with lots to do and nothing to worry about. Tonight since Turk took over I have been reading over your letters for the past seven days and have destroyed them – and feel like vandal. I never do destroy a letter of yours without that feeling – its really a crime to do it but c’est la guerre. Thats what war consists of ripping up and tearing to pieces everything that is good doing an enormous amount of evil that a tiny little bit of good may come. However we’re well away with it and there is not much use in distressing one’s brain trying to understand or explain it. And disgusted as I am with it all I still can’t see what other course is possible. At present I consider that the man who invented creosol is a far greater man than the one who invented the louse. Also before I sleep tonight I am going to apply a lot of it to my clothes – creosol, I mean. If the artist who painted magnificent pictures of war – long lines of gaily dressed men standing firmly against all shocks – that sort of thing  had painted a few of little groups of soldats with their shirts off, hunting – or even had painted as it really is – well. I think that there wouldn’t be so much desire for war. The imagination can be fired in more ways than one. But me personally I am not crummy – at the moment.

What I want to know is – do you love me today? Tell me, quick! Gee. I hope you do, Dear. You know, I love you so much today that I can’t think of anything else. I want to pick you up now and carry you off somewhere where we will be all alone just we two together for ever to live and love. Sweetheart, I want you, hard, hard and I want you to take me in your arms and tell

 

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