Original Letter

            France.

                        30th April, 1918

 

My Own Sweetheart:–

My holiday was a roaring success and I didn’t do anything. It was a cold, messy sort of morning and I went to the Horse Lines in the forenoon intending, if it turned fine to go for a ride in the afternoon. It never did clear up so I just loafed on Holmes bed all the time. I had two good meals and a mighty good rest and set out for home! — about eleven. It is quite a hike and I am just arrived. Turk is going to take to-morrow off. Neither of us feel up to much as the grippe we had in the line has left us with colds. Turk says that we need a good drunk and that he is going to get drunk to-morrow if he has to go all the way to Paris to get booze. If I’m waking I’ll call him early.

I think that that beaver fur of Netta’s is absolutely the only thing for your birthday. Beaver is and always has been my favourite fur so please don’t hesitate a moment. When I come on leave I will give you the francs. If you ever have another birthday without me – well, it will be at your own risk.

That old lady was quite right about Canada doing her bit. Figures have just been published showing that 25% of the Flying Force is Canadian and that Canada is supplying 300 machines a week. And in every department it is the same. I don’t know whether Canada is giving more than anybody else but certainly she is giving freely. She leads in Majors anyway. And here, we think that the Canadian Corps is a pretty good body. I’m getting prouder of it each day I am in it.

I am looking forward to reading ‘The Soul of a Bishop. I like to read theories on this business. Theorising didn’t keep it from starting nor will it stop it, at the same time its a diversion reading other peoples ideas about this silly business. The smallest wound ever caused in this war is too big a price to pay for the stake – no matter what it is.

Holmes and I discussed shoes and ships and sealing wax and cabbages and some rum and leave. He has a comfortable billet and is very hospitable, he looks after me when I am in the lines – sends up clean things and tobacco and the odd magazine. I always like to go and see him when I can.

Its getting to be some hours of the night and I should be going to bed – a lonesome job but necessary. I never can get to like sleeping alone. Its too uncomfortable and continent.

Sweetheart I’m just going to tell you that I adore you to-day and that I am lonesomer than I have ever been for you. Its long waiting, Dearest, but it must be soon over. I love you, Dear.

            Your own

                        Ross