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[Page 5]
"Somewhere in France"
June 25th 1917
C/o British Australasian
115 High Holborn
London, E.C.
Precious One
It's just glorious to hear that you've been to Toowoomba. Your last letter speaks of the Duffy's and joy rides. Ever since I landed in France life has been perfect. You couldn't imagine a more lovely spot than the one we are in now. This morning I've crept through a forest alongside our camp into a glorious farmyard where they cook the most delicious French (they can't help it) meals where the open mouthed ginger cat catches milk squirted form the cows tit. Absolutely the latest "farmyard Mandeville" stunt. Just the old mountain home all over again with a French old Mrs. Roberts, open fireplace, grandfather clock and the dear dog.
This is our country. If I've ever made up my mind about anything it's to get you over here "Apres la guerre". There's more life and fun on a Sunday in this big port. More violent contrasts, more delicious food, wine, exquisite country, music, more café life and true "bohemianism" on a Sunday or any week day than England ever dreamt of in a lifetime. Hypocrisy, mock modesty and snobs vanish. People here are natural. It's good night to the d__ "subbubbs". Too lovely for words! Hard to believe! etc. etc. The other day I came across Paragot