Somewhere in France

April 1918

My Dear Mother

Dear ones at Home

This is my second letter in the last two weeks. I suppose you have received one by this time.

I have not heard a word from U.S since I left America.

I hope you are well and enjoying good health. I never felt any better in all my life, of course I would rather be at home. This is a swell day- what there is left of it. It seems to rain about every ten minutes, then brighten up again.

I am writing in the garden in the rear of our quarters (a hotel) there are similar places on the north-side in Syracuse.

There is plenty of beer and wine to be had here, I have sampled the much talk-of French