longing for the unattainable. But underneath it all must be a
colossal movement of evolution, of spiritual growth--or of
retrogression. Who knows? When I ask myself what I am going to fight
for, I answer--for my country, as a patriot--for my hate, as an
individual. My time is almost up. I go on duty. The rain is roaring
on the thin roof. How it rains in this East! Whole days and nights
it pours. I cannot help but think of my desert hills, always so
barren and yellow, with the dust-clouds whirling. One day of this
rain, useless and wasted here, would have saved the Bend crop of
wheat. Nature is almost as inscrutable as God.

Lenore, good-by for this time. Think of me, but not as lonely or
unhappy or uncomfortable out there in the cold, raw, black, wet
night. I will be neither. Some one--a spirit--will keep beside me as
I step the beat. I have put unhappiness behind me. And no rain or
mud or chill will ever feaze me.

Yours with love,

Kurt Dorn.

Camp--, _October_--.

Dear Sister Lenore,--After that little letter of yours I could do
nothing more than look up another pin like the one I sent Kathleen.
I inclose it. Hope you will wear it.

I'm very curious to see what your package contains. It hasn't
arrived yet. All the mail comes late. That makes the boys sore.

The weather hasn't been so wet lately as when I last wrote, but it's
colder. Believe me these tents are not steam-heated! But we grin and
try to look happy. It's not the most cheerful thing to hear the old
call in the morning and tumble out in the cold gray dawn. Say! I've
got two blankets now. _Two!_ Just time for mess, then we hike down
the road. I'm in for artillery now, I guess. The air service really
fascinated me, but you can't have what you want in this business.

_Saturday_.--This letter will be in sections. No use sending you a
little dab of news now and then. I'll write when I can, and mail
when the letter assumes real proportions. Your package arrived and I
was delighted. I think I slept better last night on your little
pillow than any night since we were called out. My pillow before was
your sleeveless jersey.

It's after three A.M. and I'm on guard--that is, battery guard, and
I have to be up from midnight to reveille, not on a post, but in my
tent, so that if any of my men (I'm a cor