Dear Ones All at Home:
I thot I
would hardly have time to drop you a line from here, but the fates have given
me a few spare moments, so I will at least let you know I am still well and
safe. In fact, feel better than I have for the past month. Maybe it is because
the shells are not as thick here. Ha, Ha.
Picture a French chateau, in fair
repair, a real open fireplace with mirror over the mantle, fire blazing merrily
on the hearth, a French deal table before it, a candle’s flickering light
casting fantastic shadows of a chunky American soldier bent low over a letter
HOME. Add to the picture another soldier
and a dog stretched lazily on a couple of army blankets before the crackling
blaze and you have a very fair picture of the scene the moon looks down on
“Somewhere in France” tonite. For a
romantic effect, take notice of the two prim old French chairs with their
grotesque antique carving also. Ah, me,
if it could only last, or happen again.
Love
to you all including Auntie,
George
[This was written on a
fold-over, seal on three sides, and address letter form (somewhat like an
aerogram). Small writing in pencil.]
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