Dearest Mother, Dad and All:
It has been some time since my last letter, and many things have happened. I am sure you all have been worried and I wish I could have written sooner. Am now somewhere in France, and am happy to say, well and O.K. It has all seemed like a long nightmare since I left New York -- being in Ireland, and getting acquainted there, then to Scotland, through England and to the southern port of Wales and very close to Grand-daddy Pryse's home, then on to France.
To tell you about everything would take many pages. Each day I am more thankful than the day before, that you all do not know the true meaning of war. One can look across fields and orchards and beautiful country, in bright sunshine and hear birds singing, and see cows grazing peacefully, and wonder in the silence at times, how there can be so much death and destruction among it all.
I had three letters from you the past few days, also one from Toots, Kenneth, Agnes, Henry and Mrs. Jaspar. Was wonderful to have them, especially at this time. I can not write to everyone now, so until later, tell them all how I am, etc. Will write to Kenneth, now, too.
I am sure you read the papers and listen to the radio, and have a good idea of what's what, and know at least more than I can tell you. Your prayers and love have kept me safe, and will in the future, if it be God's will, keep me, and bring us all home again soon.
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