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were thundering away unceasingly, the sky being ablaze with flashes • of light.
While my opinion isn’t worth a. snap of the fingers, just the same I’m firmly convinced that this year will see the end of the war.. Everything seems to point that way. Eritz will never he as strong again as Then he opened this gigantic offensive, and failing as he did to separate the English .Army from the French by driving in a wedge- which was undoubtedly his intention- why to my way of thinking he is done for. Of course, he’ll try and try again, but each effort will be weaker than the former, and are foredoomed to failure. Then the Allies will strike, and there will be no stopping ’em... Naturally this won't * all happen in a month or two, but as I said before this year is the year.
You ask me about socks in a letter received a. few days ago. Well I have three pairs on hand now, but send 'em along anyway. If I can't use them, I know that some other fellow can. They won't be wasted that's sure and certain.
You’ve doubtless found out by this time that I was thinking of you folks on the third of March. Quite a coincidence that wjp should both write in the same strain isn’t it? As if I’d ever forget that night we left good old Victoria. But wait till the night I hit there again. That’ll be some night, take it from me,
Jimmy Park had a letter from Lundy a few days ago, to the effect that he had been transferred to another hospital in the same town - Westgate-on-Sea. _ Seems to be picking up a bit, but I don't think he’ll lsre over here again. He says hegets lonesome for the old gang at times, but believes that lonesomeness in Blighty is far preferable to dodging "shot and shell" over here. I can quite understand his viewpoint. ’
Seems to me that you folks have been doing a heap more worrying over the kid’s welfare than was warranted.. Why sure, he has written /V you- more than once too. I’ll bit. Just unfortunate that his letters ^ should have gone astray. Such things do happen you know. Well in a month or so you’ll have him back there with you, and then you’ll only have one letter to write each Sunday. Some people have 8.11 the luck.
Do you know how many I wrote last night? Seven/ Yes sir, seven.’ And every one of ’em a gem. I'm no tight wad,- I believe in doing things in style when I'm at it. Just think of it? Seven fair, beauteous damsels scanning with anxious eyes the morning’s mail for my classical handwriting. Talk aboutgiving the natives a treat. I’m the fair haired boy for the job..
Have a heart, Mother. Wait till I get back before you start talking about getting me hitched up. Me a bachelor "apres la guerre"? Hot a chance in the wor3d. You don’t happen to know of any "female woman" as Stan Young has it-- who is looking for a sober industrious husband, at present earning the magnificent sum of $1.10 per do you? She'll have to be a fair to middlin' cook, specializing on pies. Say, how’s chances for getting a hunk of pie? Got any lying around loose? Any old kind will do,, just as long as it is your brand. Gosh.’ wouldn’t I like to
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