It is again a really disgracefully long time since I have written and once more I must make work the excuse for my delay. The officials of the various spheres above our little one have been most exceptionally generous with bits of paper, most of them more of less superfluous, which they shower down upon us ceaselessly. During our last so-called rest I never had any at all. Fortunately some of the labours of the day were out of doors and had to be performed on a horse, so I managed to get some exercise, and the weather was by no mean bad. We played another “league” football match and beat a sapper company by 4-0 on a wet field – on the whole not a bad game to watch. The following day we had a “rugger” match against the Field Ambulance and after a terrific game succeeded in winning by 14-3 pts. They wanted me to play but I thought it wiser to limit my activities to running up and down the touch line with a flag.
The Padre has gone away to do a “course” – presumably to learn how to preach; he will I am afraid, be most horribly bored. Burnett is back from his school and Allen (C.S.) comes back today from his. We are also going to have an American Officer to stay with us for a bit; he ought to be very interesting. You must not get downhearted about the Italian business. I do not think that, bad as it is, it is as bad as it looks on paper. It may prolong things a little because a victory will encourage the faint-hearted sausage-mongers of Berlin, but it does not alter the ultimate result of the war. London does not seem yet quite immune from air-raids – but I don’t suppose they are really very formidable, if one keeps calm.