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Date: November 27th 1917



November 27, 1917

Budsie Darling:

I was so very glad to receive a letter from you yesterday. Girlie, I know what a terrible miserable and lonely life you are leading, and I am so sorry I cannot in anyway help you Dear, and I know the only thing that cheers you is lots of letters. But I write just as often as I get the chance Dearie, and as you know we are pretty well tied down as to what to write about.

You certainly are a little brick Budsie, and I do admire your principles. It made me feel so proud of you when you mentioned about always getting three meals a day, and setting the table nicely, although it is only on wee Bob's account. When you think of such necessary minor details as that, I can rest assured that the way you are bringing him up will make him a little man to be proud of. God Bless you Hon. - it's little things like that, that most women would overlook, that makes me admire as well as love you so much. It makes a lot of work but I guess it keeps your mind occupied. You are pretty clever at dressmaking anyway, so I imagine you like to do it too. I don't remember Dear just what was paid on the machine, but I think about $13. We should have the receipt somewhere.

Say, it makes me smile when you tell me about all the babies coming in Meota. I guess little girl you are a little jealous. Shh! But I'll bet too that some of the Meota women when they get that way get jealous of you too! Especially June and Mrs. Mooney. Oh, about Russ Wright - you know Harry's people are terribly mad about it on account of her being a Catholic I suppose. They are a staid old Methodist family. But it doesn't worry old Harry a bit; we had a good laugh over it too.
Girlie, I feel so damn mean and selfish and I almost hate to write and tell you because I know how you will envy me and wish you with me too. And I also feel that I am leaving you short of money and spending too much on my own pleasures - however, Harry and I are going to England for fourteen days leave the day after tomorrow. We are looking forward to it so much because it's twenty months since we left England and Mother has been writing every week asking "Cecil, why can't you get home? - so and so came home yesterday, and has only been in France six or seven months". But I have had to keep telling her "they were lucky!". But at last we are going and Budsie, I'm afraid I"m going to lose a good old Pal. I'm afraid harry will not come back. His cousin (Capt. ?) wants him to report sick while in England and he will be kept there and may possibly be sent back to Canada. I'll be terribly sorry to lose him, but really, France is no place for him. He should have been sent back last April, right after the Vimy affair.

I have had a nasty cough for over eight months, and several of the boys are trying to advise me to also report sick in England, but personally I would rather be in France than doing some basic job, fatigues, Hospital duty, and work like that. I've never been right since I had trench fever last February, but England can be just as wet and miserable as France, so, what's the diff.?

What do you think of our Christmas card this year? I don't like it at all myself. I went down to see Jack Wilkinson this afternoon. He's still jake and has a good bomb-proof job now. Tell Tommy his address is: Sgt. Wilkinson, 3rd Division Training School, France. - she asked me to send her his address. Buds Dear, will you thank her for me for her letter, and explain that it is not that I don't wish to write them that I don't answer her letters regularly, but because we don't get many chances to write letters, and when I do, I usually find after I've written you and Mother, I decide to put it off until another time, and that way it never gets written. I'm almost ashamed of myself because I haven't written to the Frasers for months. I had a parcel from Mrs. Gregory, poor old lady, she doesn't forget me. I wonder if Grey has been called up yet?

Well, my Honey Bunch I guess I must quit. I wil write and tell you of all our doings in England. Buds tell me really - you don't think me very selfish do you? Hoenstly, I feel so darn mean when I think of you, so lonely and trying hard to make ends meet, and me away for a fortnight's holiday and spending money that really should be sent to you. Once I get home and see the old folks again, I'll be quite satisfied and won't want any more leave. You see, when we first came to England all I got was 48 hours leave so that I didn't see very much of them.

Goodbye Girlie. Have as good a Christmas as you possibly can and don't be downhearted because your boy is not with you. Make the best you can Girlie Dear of a bad job and try to be happy for my sake. All my love to you and Bob. God Bless you little girl and keep safe 'til I return.

Yours ever,