d on the way out. It was only the evening before
that we had dined together and he had told me what he was going to do
with his next leave.
God bless you all,
CON.
XIX
October 14th, 1916.
DEAREST MOTHER:
I'm still all right and well. To-day I had the funniest experience of my
life--got caught in a Hun curtain of fire and had to lie on my tummy
for two hours in a trench with the shells bursting five yards from
me--and never a scratch. You know how I used to wonder what I'd do under
such circumstances. Well, I laughed. All I could think of was the sleek
people walking down Fifth Avenue, and the equally sleek crowds taking
tea at the Waldorf. It struck me as ludicrous that I, who had been one
of them, should be lying there lunchless. For a little while I was
slightly deaf with the concussions.
That poem keeps on going through my head,
Oh, to come home once more, when the dusk is falling,
To see the nursery lighted and the children's table spread;
"Mother, mother, mother!" the eager voices calling,
"The baby was so sleepy that he had to go to bed!"
Wouldn't it be good, instead of sitting in a Hun dug-out?
Yours lovingly,
CON.
XX
October 15th, 1916.
Dear Ones:
We're still in action, but are in hopes that soon we may be moved to
winter quarters. We've had our taste of mud, and are anxious to move
into better quarters before we get our next. I think I told you that
our O.C. had got wounded in the feet, and our right section commander
got it in the shoulder a little earlier--so we're a bit short-handed and
find ourselves with plenty of work.
I have curiously lucid moments when recent happenings focus themselves
in what seems to be their true perspective. The other night I was
Forward Observation officer on one of our recent battlefields. I had to
watch the front all night for signals, etc. There was a full white moon
sailing serenely overhead, and when I looked at it I could almost fancy
myself back in the old melancholy pomp of autumn woodlands where the
leaves were red, not with the colour of men's blood. My mind went back
to so many by-gone days-especially to three years ago. I seemed so
vastly young then, upon reflection. For a little while I was full of
regrets for many things wasted, and then I looked at the battlefield
with its scattered kits and broken rifles.
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