France, 7/11/1918

Dear Mother,

The weather is now rotten and today it is raining cats and dogs and is rather cold so I writing a few letters by way of filling in time. We have a coal fire made from coal my batman pinched from the dump. We are all past masters at the art of thieving but we don’t call it by that horrible name, we call it salvaging. We salvage everything we want at the expense of somebody else. For instance the room I am using in a French house wanted an electric light bulb so that we could have light at night instead of using so of course we salvaged one from an adjoining YMCA hut. The YMCA came to me about it of course I knew nothing about it. It is the same way with anything we and can’t get any other way. The Artillery are always salvaging limber and horses etc. The ASC salvage tarpaulins, GS wagons, ropes etc so that the game goes on right through the Army.

The bed I am sleeping in is a huge wooden affair made of solid walnut and must be worth �50. The mattress is a huge affair made of dozens of spiral springs. The tick is kapok. There are two somewhat clean sheets and on top there is one of my blankets and a counterpane or patchwork. On top of all this, there is a huge balloon affair of feather, so that you can see I sleep fairly comfortably. All this costs the army 1 franc per diem. In the trenches I sleep in my clothes, overcoat, and sheepskin, waterproof sheet, old bags, camouflage and any old thing which will help make the bumps a bit softer and keep the cold out a bit. We have a table (an extension one), a piano which gets the devil knocked out of it, a fireplace and several chairs. Food is plentiful though dear. We pay the equivalent of 3/9 for a dozen eggs, 7/- for a fowl, 3/9 a lb. for butter, 2/6 a tin for preserved fruit, 2/6 for 12lbs potatoes and so on, so that we have to pay a good deal for mess, but is a much better mess to do so and live well whilst out of the line, which in itself is a rather infrequent experience.

Mrs Hookham still mothers me and is nearly as anxious as you are if I don’t write frequently, she sends me ginger cakes and cigarettes and sox etc. every week. By the way your last 2 parcels mentioned in letters a few days ago have not turned up yet. But as I have had all the others you have told me about I am not worrying and I suppose they will soon be along. If you get sundry map sheets in envelopes, just keep them until you get the lot. I took them from a Hun officer at Beaurevoir and it is a good souvenir when put together. The war news must be very cheering to you people out there. We are all very glad over this side but there is no “trafficking” and it is all taken as part of the job. Most people say when they heard of any thing special “Just about time too”. The latest push on this front ought to finish the Hun, I think, but it will be at least 12 months before we begin to get back home.

Yours affectionately,

Walter