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Date: January 1st 1918

January 1st, 1918

Dear Mother:

New Years day, twelve thirty in the morning. It is an unworthy hour to be writing letters but I am on duty in the exchange and as I have quite a lot of writing to do I am taking advantage of the opportunity. Wrote to you on Christmas day. Since then there has been no Canadian mail but we are expecting one again today. Mails have been irregular lately anyway, I suppose on account of so much Christmas stuff coming. I have been very fortunate in Christmas mail. Have received already nine - seven pound parcels and know of three more on the way. One of the fellows in our dugout received somewhere around a dozen and the lowest man has four to his credit. So you will see we are living like lords. Harry sent me a nice compass which I appreciate very highly.

New Years Day! And still in France. New Years 1916 we spent in Blighty, New Years 1917 in France and New Years 1918 we had hoped to spend in Canada. Yet here we are still in France and likely to be here for some time. However I hope that by the opening of 1919 victory will have been won, peace restored to the earth and we adventurers back home again. I think we are standing on the threshold of a year full of promise. The world has paid and is paying a tremendous price for liberty, a price which cannot go unrewarded. Germany at the present time is at the height of her power, for with Russia almost a nonentity Germany can use a great many more troops on the western front and if
now at her strongest moment we can force her to retreat, as we have done in Belgium, I think that, with Americans fresh and eager for the fray, the coming year looks a very bright indeed.

Don't think I have any news. It is still cold and fine. One could not wish for better weather. I hope it continues until about March for the hard frozen ground is quite a relief after the mud. Now I think I must close. Will write again in a few days. Everybody well and happy. I am fine as usual.

Love to all and a very large share for yourself from your loving son, Harold