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[Page 128]

Friday 13 [12] April 1917 [1918]
A letter today from Miss Hunt. Kind & reports all going well & Wilga overfull. How homesick do I feel hearing of my little garden & all the details of life there when am laid aside in a lonely land with not one human being to whom I can speak.
O.C. visits me & am gazed upon as so much wood or machinery that has to be repaired & sent on duty again. Wonder where these "men"? came from & how can there be such a gap between our live dear Australians & these creatures in men's clothes with no feeling or mind inside them.

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