anything else. We have suffered and still suffer a good deal of
fear and anxiety, with real reason, too. But the military men are
reassuring. Yet I don't know just how far to trust their judgment
or to share their hopes. Certainly this is the most dangerous
situation that modern civilization was ever put in. If we can keep
them from winning any _great_ objective, like Paris or a channel
port, we ought to end the war this year. If not, either they win or
at the least prolong the war indefinitely. It's a hazardous and
trying time.

There were never such casualties on either side as now. Such a
bloody business cannot keep up all summer. But before everybody is
killed or a decisive conclusion is reached, the armies will, no
doubt, dig themselves in and take a period of comparative rest.
People here see and feel the great danger. But the extra effort now
_may_ come too late. Still we keep up good hope. The British are
hard to whip. They never give up. And as for the French army, I
always remember Verdun and keep my courage up.

The wounded are coming over by the thousand. We are incomparably
busy and in great anxiety about the result (though still pretty
firm in the belief that the Germans will lose), and luckily we keep
very well.

Affectionately,
W.H.P.

_To Ralph W. Page_

London, April 7, 1918.

DEAR RALPH:

There used to be a country parson down in Wake County who, when
other subjects were talked out, always took up the pleasing topic
of saving your soul. That's the way your mother and I do--with the
subject of going home. We talk over the battle, we talk over the
boys, we talk over military and naval problems, we discuss the
weather and all the babies, and then take up politics, and talk
over the gossip of the wiseacres; but we seldom finish a
conversation without discussing going home. And we reach just about
as clear a conclusion on our topic as the country parson reached on
his. I've had the doctors going over me (or rather your mother has)
as an expert accountant goes over your books; and I tried to bribe
them to say that I oughtn't to continue my arduous duties here
longer. They wouldn't say any such thing. Thus that device
failed--dead. It looks as if I were destined for a green old age
and no _martyr_ b