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[Page 369]

and Exchange, St Pauls, along the Strand from Waterloo Station over London Bridge.
It was terrific.

And France! An eighteen mile march for a start with a 120 lb. pack. If it hadn't been for the bones and tin whistle, joking with orange girls along glorious roads through sunny villages, the joy of finding French far easier than English to speak I'd have never reached the base. The people are grand. And fun. Mon Dieu! They're alive! The queer part is they will not believe that I'm not French.

Cafes wine and grub are immensely better than I found in the part of England we left –

one day's leave in a large French port. A princely time at a leading Parisian seaside resort. Casinos and real life once again.

Portrait bizz booming 1/- = 1 f. 35c. meet dozens of Canadians I know from Vancouver and Nanaimo. Plenty of men from Melbourne and Sydney. Good officers.

Have posted you a Jeanne d'Arc brooch two envelopes

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