Here we are at the Y.M.C.A. Time 8:10 P.M. I’ve just enjoyed one of the best evenings I’ve put in in this camp. After supper I felt blue and tired out, and as is usual this time of month, the financial embarrassments made it rather inadvisable to go up town. So I finally decided to come over here and write to Jo & you folks. I blew a nickel for a peanut bar on the way over, then wrote to Jo, and was just about half asleep and finishing her letter when Mr. O’Brian (ex-Vaudeville singer) came on the Y.M. platform and started his part of the program with “A Long, Long Trail[1].” I presume you have heard it. It is a very pretty piece and just touches a responsive chord in a fellow’s makeup when he is away from all those back home. Well, he brought down the house with his rendition of that, and followed with some appropriate pieces. Then Mr. Foley (humorist and reader) came on and gave us just a dandy program of readings with just the right touch of human pathos linked with his sketches. He is certainly good. So I’m awake now, feel rested and farewell to the blues.
The weather we’ve been having makes one a little bit indigo. Grey skies, wind, rain, mist, raw cold or muggy warm. And today was Washington’s birthday and a holiday, but of course Major Roth drew field officer of the day again last nite, so I spent the day in the saddle, with a couple of panses to feed, clean horse & equipment, etc with a rush so as to be ready for next trip.
We both heaved a sigh of relief when he was relieved at 5 P.M. and we rode back from Div. Headquarters. Riding on a nice day, when you can go where you please and stop when you want can’t be beat for sport, but in large doses, with hurry and worry sandwiched in between whiles it loses its charm to a large extent. However, everything went fairly well, I flatter myself.
I suppose in another week and a half you will see Dora and Margaret at least. You can’t know how I’d like to be with you all, but as yet I can’t see my way clear to come. As long as I don’t get bounced off this job it is a step in advance of washing dishes anyway, and it might lead to a chance at some other line later if I am relieved of this, tho there is no assurance of that. We are quite sure to be here till the middle of April, but while we will be here long after that I fear, there is dope afloat that the 108th may move any time after that -- in advance of the rest of the 33rd Division. Please
Well, now
I’ll ring off and hike back to bed, I guess.
Love
and love and love again to my home folks,
Your
loving son & brother, George
[1] There's A Long, Long
Trail is
a popular song of World War I. The lyrics were by Stoddard King (1889-1933) and
the music by Alonzo "Zo" Elliot, both seniors at Yale.[ It
was published in London in 1914, but a December, 1913 copyright for the music
is claimed by Zo Elliott. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/There's_A_Long_Long_Trail_A-Winding
. Recording at: http://www.firstworldwar.com/audio/John%20McCormack%20-%20There's%20A%20Long,%20Long%20Trail%20A-Winding.mp3
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