ScrpBk1_06-verso_r

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View of loose item on ScrpBk1_06-verso: typescript of letter written by Georges Destrubé for his family, May 2-25, 1917. Page 18 of 19.

Transcript

[start page] ) 18 ) May 25th 1917 --- We have shifted about many times of late: we have been in and out of the trenches several times and now we are in reserve bivouacs, and will be "in" again tomorrow. It is a shell scarred area and the ground upon which we are cramped must have been bought dearly, it is seamed with old trenches and the shell-holes often touch, clay and white chalk, are uppermost and there's hardly a blade of grass or anything green to be seen: --- looks like a rough see. And from here my thhoughts go homing and I think of Guy and Paul. Here, in this roughly made shelter, I am alone and there is room for three, and I can't help thinking that but for the bitter fortunes of War I might even this moment be shifting over to make room for Guy and Paul, who, crouching through the entrace would take a place in either corner: and perhaps as of old we would talk of things that be close to the heart, or remain silent, --- anyway the feeling of absolute friendship would be there --- a real living thing, and affection we didn't discuss and rarely referred to, and always roughly worded at the best, an affection deep and satisfying. I ache for their splendid company and I picture them ever so plainly sitting here with me. I see Paul's face, his deep intelligent look, and I see Guy's, reflective and strong - a pleasing face that won him friends everywhere: and Guy is puffing at his long Canadian pipe and there is an entire [end page]

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