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Date: July 4th 1917
Harry Robertson


Dear Harry,

Your letter of June 1st reached me yesterday. Your letter to Molly arrived some time ago and she forwarded it to me to read, and I can never tell you, old man, how deeply I was affected by the warmth and heartfelt sympathy of that brotherly letter. I hoped that you would write to her but the love and tenderness which you expressed were more than I could possibly have expected and it has brought you and me closer together than anything else could ever do. Whether Molly has written to you yet in reply, I don’t know- I rather fancy that she has not for the two reasons that her daily letter to me always occupies first place in her very limited spare moments and then too she is particularly shy and reserved and expressing her feelings either in words or by letter is always an ordeal for her. I want you to take these as very real reasons, Bud, in case you have not heard from her yet, for I can assure you that she read and re-read your letter until she had it almost by heart and her appreciation of the spirit of it is just as deep of my own.

I do hope you are going to be successful in your latest efforts to get overseas with the Canadians. I wonder if anybody ever tried harder to get over here or was prepared to sacrifice more by doing so than you. Well I’ll be waiting for you, Old Scout, whether you come with the Canadians or with the Americans.

I am heart-broken now over the almost fatal accident to my own old observer, room-mate and pal, Duncan, which happened right before my eyes on the aerodrome a few days ago. I sent him up with a new pilot to show the new fellow some land-marks. As his machine left the ground the engine started spluttering. At 300 feet he made a feeble effort to turn back into the aerodrome, turning perfectly flat, lost flying speed, and fell in a nose dive from 200 feet. The pilot was killed outright and Duncan’s head is all cut and his skull fractured. He is now at a Canadian hospital near here and I am glad to say that they consider that he has a good chance of recovery- but we shall never be able to fly together again. I am more cheerful about his chances than anything else that I can think of. Still the accident is depressing, particularly as on the two preceding days two of my pilots were killed. Both of them did the same brave thing- both were fatally shot while over Hunland but by sheer will power flew their machines back to an English aerodrome and landed safely saving their observer and their machines, they themselves dying of their wounds a few hours later. The squadron is proud of those two fellows, I can tell you!

I hope you are feeling better now, and that your holiday of a month ago has left some good effects. If you can get into the military medical service I am sure it would do you good with its continual out-door life. It certainly has made me fatter and browner than I have ever been though now-a-days I must admit that I am feeling the nerve strain a bit more than I did at first.

Well, good-bye for this time, Brother. Take good care of yourself, and don’t forget that now we are just a little bit more brothers than we have ever been before.

Lovingly yours,

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