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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 13 of 19.

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  • [start page] - 13 - discern first the tent which was on the margin of the lake, and then perhaps Guy himself, working close by. I suppose I remember it because it was one of those beautiful sunshiny evenings of Winter, and I was feeling lonely, --- anyway, I remember ever so well trudging across the lake through the snow, scanning the distant shore for a pin point indication of the camp, and then came the discovery of it which gladdened me so, and then another hour, and I thought I could make out Guy's figure moving about, and a bit later I could see it was him sure enough, and what I remember so is the surge of feeling that came over me - a realisation of the enormous affection one has for a brother - a brother such as Guy. And upon such occasions it comes home to one more strongly perhaps, than any other time. It was also on that trip on the journey home that we struck a very bitter spell of cold weather, and Guy with his greater capacity for fighting the cold was just able to strike a match to light the last camp fire we made on that memorable trip, all use had been frozen out of my hands, I couldn't hold a match to strike it. Guy found it enormously difficult, but finally suceeded and so saved our lives, for ewe couldn't have lived through that night without a fire. May 18th 1917 I have not mentioned Paul much, but though he was not out in the early days he is just as much in my mind and my memories are of Rife (sic) are inseperable from him. He and I worked together daily and constantly. He helped me get the logs out for the new house, many, many days we put in down in the woods, cutting, sawing up and loading logs for the most part, the largest trees we had ever yet handled out there. Needless to say, [end page]
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