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[Page 238]

France
26 . 10 . 16

Dear Mother,
It is such a long time since I wrote, but owing to conditions it is absolutely impossible for me to do so, for we are at war this time not like the place where I wrote from last.  The guns roar all day and night planes fight, the mud flies, and observation battalions go up and down, we go over and capture another line or so, such is the war down here.  We are up to our knees in mud; sometimes we get bogged and have to be dragged out which nearly drags our feet out of their sockets.  Our clothes are all covered in mud, but mud is nothing for we eat mud on our food, of course we cannot help it, but
  

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