bath of blood. That made me
sick. You see, the little dog wasn't in the picture. I hadn't
bargained for him.

Yet the things Morrie saw in South Africa--do you remember how he
_would_ tell us about them?--weren't in it with the things that happened
here. Pounding apart, the things that corpses can do, apparently on
their own, are simply unbelievable--what the war correspondents call
"fantastic postures." But I haven't got to the point when I can slap my
thighs, and roar with laughter--if they happen to be Germans.

In between, the boredom is so awful that I've heard some of our men say
they'd rather have things happening. And, of course, we're all hoping
that when those shells come along there won't be quite so much
"between."

Love to Ronny and Mother and all of them.--Your very affectionate,

NICHOLAS.

June 1st, 1915.
B.E.F., FRANCE.

My Darling Ronny,--Yes, I think all your letters must have come, because
you've answered everything. You always tell me just what I want to know.
When I see the fat envelopes coming I know they're going to be
chock-full of the things I've happened to be thinking about. Don't let's
ever forget to put the dates, because I make out that I've always
dreamed about you, too, the nights you've written.

And so the Aunties are working in the War Hospital Supply Depot? It's
frightfully funny what Dorothy says about their enjoying the War and
feeling so important. Don't let her grudge it them, though; it's all the
enjoyment, or importance, they're ever had in their lives, poor dears.
But I shall know, if a swab bursts in my inside, that it's Auntie
Edie's. As for Auntie Emmeline's, I can't even imagine what they'd be
like--monstrosities--or little babies injured at birth. Aunt Louie's
would be well-shaped and firm, but erring a little on the hard side,
don't you think?

That reminds me, I suppose I may tell you now since it's been in the
papers, that we've actually got Moving Fortresses out here. I haven't
seen them yet, but a fellow who has thinks they must be uncommonly like
Drayton's and my thing. I suspect, from what he says, they're a bit
better, though. We hadn't got the rocking-horse idea.

It's odd--this time last year I should have gone off my head with agony
at the mere thought of anybody getting in before us; and now I don't
care a bit. I do mind rather for Drayton's sake, though I don't suppose
he cares, either. The great thing is that it's been done,