Sailly s/l Lys, France
Many thanks for the parcel of clothing and socks which arrived yesterday afternoon. This letter I am afraid will contain no information but several requests. I have just had a letter from the C.S.S.A. – Bedford St. saying that a cheque for £1 which I gave the hosiery department, the day before we left, was unsigned. Do you think Dad could possibly give them another, and I will pay him back afterwards; I don’t like entrusting cheques to the post office. Another thing that I should very much like if you could possibly send them to me, is a box of miniature playing cards, for patience. I don’t get very much time at present but sometimes there is an odd hour in the evening when one must not go to bed, and is rather at a loss to know what to do. We are simply crowded out in this place, and sleeping almost two or three deep. Personally I have got a fairly good layer of straw, which keeps my hips off the hard floor. The one great difficulty is that I don’t get enough brainwork, I hardly ever have to think at all, and the result is that I am getting most appallingly fat, inspite of getting plenty of exercise in a mild way.
There seems to be a pretty big battle going on all around us, to judge by the noise of guns and rifle-fire, which though distant is fairly continuous. The 4th Lincolns are much plagued by a sniper who takes “pots” at them, and is apparently in their billets, possibly a German in the Canadian ranks; two such have already been shot. The army airmen are doing a really great work. They are up all day in any weather, and fly beautifully, much more use than the navy people, who wait for a fine day, and then make a comparatively useless raid. Well the post is just going, so till the next epistle au revoir. Give my love to all.
A curious Sunday morning but better than the last in some ways.