Very many thanks indeed for you exceedingly numerous letters, two of which found me in the Trenches, & gave me a new lease of life. I am afraid the last jaunt up there was rather spoilt for me by two things. First the weather was simply vile: secondly I was not at all well. I shivered all over & my head burned like a fire-engine in three fits. Quinine put me right in the end but left me with a somewhat painful head, which has but lately left me. Today I am quite fit again & have been for a very long ride in all pomp & ceremony with the C.O. There have been changes here which grieve me very much. Major Martin has got Command of the 4th Batt. – he was a real friend. A sort of school master, guardian, father–confessor, all round into one for me, & I like him very much. He thoroughly deserves the job & the 4th are jolly lucky to get such a good man – much better than they deserve. He himself is a bit sad to go – the last thing he said to me, before he went off today, was that I was to make a point of seeing him when the war was over & guide him on a “walk” in Wales or some other jaunt of that sort. By the way, a wounded man from my platoon by name S. Smith is in the V.A.D. Hosp. at Charing, Kent. If it is within reach I should be rather glad if Dad could get over & see him, perhaps he would borrow a car from some kind friend. The fellow was hit in the arm while shooting over the parapet rather a nasty wound but I expect it will heal up all round in the end.
I often wonder whether the spelling of my letters is excessively painful – they are often written at great speed & it is consequently quite possible. Mould, a Subaltern, sent in an official report yesterday which contained the word parapet three times, spelt as follows – (1) parrapit, (2) paraappet. (3) parapett –in that order.