Original Letter


                        May 6th 1918


My Own Dearest:-

The die is cast. A bunch of is are going to England and we leave on the 10th! It is awfully short notice but everything is being done with a jerk nowadays. The C.O. sent for me and put it up to me and I am going. It has come so quickly that I am flabbergasted. When I wrote you two or three days ago it was only rumour and although I quite expected it I had no assurance that it would be offered me. The thing is that I shall be in England by the time you have this letter and you are in France! Lets set about it. What is the first thing to do? It is quite possible that I will be in England for some months – anyway three or four. It is rather – is there such a word as cataclysmic? – if there is this is that. Last night in the small hours I see the C.O. and sign a form, this afternoon I interview the General on the 10th I set out for England. If you can arrange to get to England – it looks Heaven sent to me.

Tommy Morrison is going which of course is pretty nice.

Letters aren’t arriving at all they have just naturally stopped and I know mine aren’t getting away from here. To-morrow should see us shook down and connected up with our mail. In the meantime it is dègoutant.

Sweetheart, if you think that I am calm and undisturbed at the prospect of seeing you and being with you soon, you do not know me. For the benefit of my colleagues here I am assuming a careless attitude about this thing – as a matter of fact I am seething with joy and excitement. How can I be cool and unflurried when in less than a month we will probably be together again. How I shall curse the system carnet rouge’s permis sejours and all the red tape that must be unrolled before you can get to England. But I am sure that with Ruthies assistance you can put some pep into the officials.

I am walking on air over the prospect, Dear. The only real substantial thought in my head is that I shall soon be with my own wife of my bosom. Isn’t it glorious. I know that I never could have waited until July and anyway leave is so uncertain. Perhaps before this month is out we shall be together. Beloved, its intoxicating and I am drunk with the idea. I love you I adore you. Your own Ross



Ruthie: Ruth: