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the last few line? of this off, the better off I *11 be.' Almost reached the end of my tether. Another line and this page'll be finished, Fidn't I tell you?
Not doing very much these days. Our section came off fatigue on Friday, and since then the usual routine has been an hours P.T. in the morning followed by a route march, with the afternoons free. No parade ground available for drilling purposes for which we're truly thankful. A little bit of that stuff goes a* long way.
Will he dropping a few lines to the kid one of these days AH local news of course. Take good care of him, Mother,
Not every brilliant letter this, but the best I Three letters home in eight days is quite on achievement these dog days.
As ever.
Your loving son,
FBED
France,
May 18, 1918,
Fear Mother and Fad,-
In view of the fact that I'm playing soccer tomorrow afternoon, with the prosoects of a ball game in the evening, guess I'd better get this letter off my chest while I have the chance.
It seems a. shame to be writing on such a glorious evening,/- strange to say- far rather spend it in a canoe up the Gorge. Some pecole are never satisfied ere they?
According torny reckoning-- barring unforeeen events--your young son ought to be well on his way across that glorious country Canada by this time, and no doubt will have been quite a freauent visitor at 1206 Yates St. by this time this reaches you, Notice quite a change in him don't you? Has he grown as much as I have lead you to believe? Expect you don't have to worry your head over what manner of grub to dish up to him. Being away from home for any length of times works wonders in that respect.
I always was a soft guy. Here up to this point I'd been writing comfortably on the table in our billet, when four of the gang took it into their heads to have a game of crib,and of course nothing would do but that they should use the table. No, Oswald,
I didn'6 go of my own acoord, but the fact remains that I went-- rether precipitately too, if the truth must be told. Past experience has taught me the utter futility of attempting to make a
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