October 31
Dear Mother—
I have just finished up with the “Flu.” Believe me, eight days with it is enough for me and I don’t want to see it again. Feel about as useful as a pair of pajamas in the army. The Flu hit me when I wasn’t looking and got me down before I knew what struck me. They took me over to the camp infirmary and put me to bed. When you are once in bed you have no desire to leave. If you do get up you find that your legs are no longer mates, and refuse to work together.
Just now I’m back in my old room wondering what it has all been about. I slept most of the time at the infirmary and had some fine dreams. Pushing logs about and driving over cliffs in camions were my favorites. Once in a while I would dream that I was at home again, but every time I was to see you they would make me crank up my camion and go somewhere else. I hope some day I’ll be able to dream without having a camion enter into it. I still don’t feel much like sitting down to any kind of a meal. The first shave I had since I was taken was yesterday. It nearly killed me, and I left my moustache on until my arm gets a little stronger. The camp is shy a barber or I would have let someone else do the job. If we don’t get a barber soon I’m going to start braiding my hair....
Over here nothing is ever stolen, swiped or pinched. It is always “Système D.” As I understand it there are three right ways of getting things in the French army. Either by Système A, B, or C. If you can’t get what you want through these three channels, you “Système D” it. All sorts of things from coal to pianos have been obtained through this “let not your left hand see what your right is doing” method. Some one said that by the end of the war we would all be first class crooks. There may be more truth than poetry in that. At any rate it’s a safe bet that we won’t starve to death while the war is going on. You would think that “Gott Mit Uns” was made in the United States instead of Germany, if you were to look at the belts. I thought, until I went on permission, that only the boys in the Reserve Mallet wore the Hun belt. As far as I’ve seen practically every “Yank” has and wears one of these belts. Fully as many pants in the United States Army in France are held up by “Gott Mit Uns” as are held up by the regulation belt.
November 9
Dear Mother—