Monday, 3rd Sept. 1917
There has been a two day hiatus in my share of the correspondence due to moving but now we are settled and comfortably settled too. This morning I got up after a good sleep on a good bunk, shaved, washed and had my breakfast in a place, which although it is Btn Hqrs. in the line, seems to me to be quite as safe and couchy as anything in Rouen and my dear, the difference in the work! This has been a holiday up to now and despite the fact that I picked an average sized one off my neck this morning, I am quite satisfied that I am not crummy yet. I have good stuff creosol and I think that I with it I shall be able to keep clean or nearly so.
Clark is in with me this time giving me the hang of things and we hit it off beautifully. I find that his ideas on a lots of things coincide with mine and yesterday when we were waiting to complete our journey in we had a rare jape. We were in a section of the country that has been fought over and it is a dreadful sight. Now, of course, it does not look so bad grass and weeds have grown over it and covered a lot of it but grass and weeds cannot cover the battered skeletons of trees – twisted, warped and shattered which from the distance look like absurd scarecrows. And there are lots of other things. It is quite different from what I expected. And agreeably so yet.
I am anxiously waiting letters from you. The confidence I have in things when I am with you leaves me when I am alone and I have conjured up all sorts of things that have befallen you. I know it is silly, you know, but it is my nature. I have seen Major Graham but only for a moment. He asked to be remembered to you and to Geordie.
This is dreadful ink and I can scarcely read it myself but probably you will be reading it in a better light than I am writing in.
All things considered, it is a better life here than in Rouen – previous to July and everyone here seems mighty cheerful and I have been struck by the improvement in the chaps.
Do you know Sweetheart that I love you enormously, always. It is very vrai and fills my thoughts always. I have the same old feeling that I told you of – everything interesting that I see and there are very many interesting things here – I want you to see them too. And I pretend that you are with me and I try to imagine the remark you would make about things. And it will always be so and I shall always love you like this – only want to be with you. Please love me a lot, Dear, and be sure to tell me a lot of love in your letters. I know it all the time you know but I need to be told.
I must do some work now, Dear, so shall say “au revoir”.
With oceans of love Beloved,
Your own,
Ross

Bitter weather slowed down the body lice that afflicted most soldiers — and warmer conditions revived them again. Within days of coming to France, most men, even officers, began what Gordon Beatty recalled as “a never-ending battle with cooties.” ... “You know how much I hate mosquito bites,” Lieutenant Claude Williams reminded his mother, “well these are about twice as bad and hardly a square inch of you is left untouched.” Body-lice or pediculis corpori, burrowed into the seams of shirts and underwear, in the folds of kilts, or under the knee of the tightly laced breeches worn by cavalry and gunners; nits or phthirius pubis, crowded under the patch of linen at the crotch of army trousers. Head-lice became so annoying to some men that they shaved themselves bald. Wherever they were, lice caused a continuous and almost indescribable misery. ... Desperate men stripped naked even in bitter weather to attack their torturers. ... Veterans recommended scores of solutions — Keating’s Powder, creosote, cheesecloth underwear, or, as Colonel Lionel Page recommended, no underwear at all.
Will Bird favoured Zambuk, a liniment more commonly used on stiff joints. Soldiers spent their spare time half-naked, “chatting” or “crumbing” — burning lice by running a lighted candle along a shirt seam and listening for the gratifying “pop.” Many woke to find blood seeping from the gashes left by unconscious scratching overnight. In the filthy conditions, infection soon followed. (Morton, 139–40)


Very quiet throughout the day. A little artillery activity on both sides but nothing of unusual interest occurred. No casualties.
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battered skeletons of trees:
squelettes d’arbres ravagés:
comfortably settled too:
Rouen:
Rouen:
Rouen:
Rouen:
Rouen: