Original Letter

            France May 5th 1918.


My Own Sweetheart:–

I am writing in a real room in a real house in a village untouched by war and I am absolutely alone. I am not a deserter or anything like that but I am about ten hours ahead of the unit. And My Dear, its a wonderful sensation being away from the war and the warriors. Turk and the rest will not arrive until late and I have the whole evening to myself. I have been here two hours and have had a good wash. finished the “ ound: lime; mso-highlight: lime;\">Soul of a Bishop” and tried to look modest when ‘La Patronne’ here sang praises of the Canadians. I have no work to do and from now until dark I am going to play with you. I’m in that comfortable state of mind and body that an Irishman is in when he takes off his boots and puts his feet out of the window.

The ‘Soul of a Bishop’ is very interesting and the Bishop has all my sympathy. Wouldn’t it drive anyone to drugs to be asked “why was the Spermaticos Logos identified with the Second and not the Third Person of the Trinity”? The Bishop and Lady Sunderbund – the both of them might have fallen of[f] a Ford car and I certainly expected that the squirrels would take in the last chapter. Lady Ella and Eleanor were real people but the rest — ! But I liked the book ever so much and would like to read it again some place where I could check up references. I am sending it on to Bill Leicester to-morrow.

There is a big mirror in the room and I have had a careful examination of my head and find that there are not any new hairs and indeed I can’t make myself believe that all the old ones are still there. I have my tonic which I use sparingly and I wash my head frequently.

Jimmie Graham left this morning and I never did know that anyone could be so glad to get away from any place. He was delirious in his joy. His course starts on the 10th so he will probably be given three or four days leave just to cheer him up. It seems funny getting leave in England – looking at it from the point of view here. From here it looks as if being in England no matter where were leave. But I suppose the point of view changes when one gets there.

Je t’adore today mon ange. I just worship you. Every bit of me just quivers with love of you and I want to sweep you into my arms and hold you so tightly you couldn’t move and kiss you forever – long dizzy kisses that intoxicate. I love you Sweetheart of mine with all my heart.

            Your own




Bill Leicester: Bill Leicester: