Original Letter


                        26th April 1918


My Own Dearest:–

Here it is twenty eight years to a day since the joybells rang out in the old village to announce that a girl child had been born into the world. Its inconceivable that it is so long. And dearest of Maidies I hope that it is the last birthday you ever have away from me. I am all fed up being toujours away from you, Mary, Dear, and I voudrais pull up stakes right now and trudge off to you. The bulk of the men I know yearn for the end principally on account of the discomfort but the discomfort doesn’t bother me or if it does its completely camouflaged by my desire for you. And when we sit around and wish I never wish for any particular place or anything – just wish to be with you – anywhere. I need you every minute, Sweetheart, and every thought I have breathes love of you.

Turk and I and practically everyone are suffering from a touch of grippe. And its most disagreeable – shivers and fever and an all over ache – but its not serious and everyone seems to get over it in about two or three days. My time is therefore half up. We go out tomorrow and I shall be very glad to get out of a dugout for a while – 24 days is long to be in a hole.

Dear, I wish you would take me in your arms and baby me for I am not feeling pretty skookum and I want some attention. You always did spoil me, Dear, but most so when I was off colour. Course I’m not sick now, you know, but just seedy, like when I was inoculated. Dearest of the world I adore you and I want you always.

            Your own           



dugout: dugout: dugout: dugout: dugout: dugout: dugout: dugout: dugout: dugout: