Original Letter


                        5th December . 1917


My Dearest Maidie:–

This afternoon I went up into the town with Charley Holmes to do his Christmas shopping. He has three people in England to whom he sends presents and he had fifty francs to spend on them. So we proceeded to investigate all the stores first. Then our search narrowed down to a little jewelers place and there we got our cadeaux. For two aunts he bought jewel cases – pretty ones on legs. if there is a kind of furniture called Sheraton or something like that that is what they were like. One had three legs, triangular shape and the other had four. They were nicely lined one with red silk and the other with old rose. For his cousin he bought a little powder tin with a mirror in the cover. Nothing much. I got one like it which I am sending you to-day. I don’t know whether you will like it or not and I remember since that you use powder in cakes which they will probably not go into this foolish little tin box. But maybe they will. Anyway, after our shopping we went and had some tea and cakes and came home well satisfied with our commercial trip through the main artery.

About my watch – well it quit cold on me not long ago and refuses to go – coax it as I may. But in the meantime I have one – picked up on the battlefield and left with us until called for  that more than serves my needs. It is a beautiful gold watch a little smaller than my big one but just as good a watch as ever did get lost. Of course it may be snatched away from me any day but I don’t anticipate an owner turning up. So you see I don’t need a watch, in fact I am pretty well hooked up for every thing. I did lose my slippers in my pack – it makes me dizzy to think of all the things that were in that, but of course I have salvaged a world of stuff since. For instance I have two pairs of drawers two under shirts two shirts four pairs of socks, lots of handkerchiefs. On the other hand I lost my slippers – but honestly I have never had a chance to wear them – lost my book Hurrish lost my French book – and other articles too numerous to mention. But I don’t need a single thing in the world but you, Dear, and I don’t want anything else either. There is no use of me trying to be content or satisfied away from you. You are far too much of me for me to get anything out of life without you. I am always dreaming, pretending that you are with me, talking to me, loving me. And it isn’t always easy to keep on pretending, lots of times I want to let everything slide and paddle off to you somehow anyhow. Combien de fois in Louviers! Wasn’t that funny? And here I can’t tell it to anyone, have to keep it to myself. Alor Dearest, I’m going now. I love you as hard as I can to-day.            Your own Ross