It is very nearly a week since I wrote but I have been worked off my feet ever since I got back to my Btn. Which I did last Saturday night. I found everybody in great form and full of good spirits especially Wollaston, the Major, & old John Burnett. As I more or less expected I have been reinstated as Adjutant, and Woolly has gone to “B” coy. I think he is a little sad about it but that cannot be helped. The C.O. is still on leave getting married, and Colonel Jones is once more coming to France, but to whom or for what purpose, no one knows. He will not be sent to us. Petch has a Military Cross, an event which we are celebrating this evening with a dinner. We start in two hours time and so far they have not succeeded in getting any port. I hope all will be well. Here am I jabbering away to you about all this nonsense and you are practically driven from home. I am exceedingly sorry to hear that you have had to leave London & hope that it will not be for long: at the same time you will certainly be more comfortable away from the noise. I am not sorry for poor Dad left there to face it all alone on Sundays.
The knee is standing the strain excellently. I am in the saddle for several hours a day – cantering about – running on my feet, and on the horses – in fact doing everything: beyond a small jar or two I never feel anything amiss. It was really rather like coming home after the end of term to get back here – not that I mean to imply that my leave was like term time, but it was very nice finding oneself once more amongst all one’s old friends. There are many gone; but those left all seemed awfully glad to see me. They are all delightful. The Battalion does not seem complete without Shields who was an institution but I daresay we shall get used to his absence in time – as we have the others. There is no time for regrets & the old C.O. would never allow any.