6th March, 1915.
Had my first letter from you this morning, dated the 3rd, for which many thanks. It's the first news of any sort from home since we have been out here. Weather still continues very bad and, personally, I shouldn't mind a little more of it still.
Did I tell you that my Gieve lifebelt had turned up? You can't imagine how firmly attached I am to it. I can't bear parting with it at night. The flask I have filled up to the stopper with rum—brandy and whisky are unprocurable.
We don't get much in the way of light literature, so any weekly papers, such as Sketches, Tatlers, Punch, are looked on as great luxuries. By the way, is the watch keeping good time? I had the chance of being inoculated the other day, but didn't think it worth while. I may be done later, possibly.
Love to all at home.
Ever your loving son,
Harold.
P.S.—There is a rumour that we get a week's leave after being out here three months.