Isn’t the news wonderful! One of the boys drifted in with a French newspaper and translated the armistice terms laid down to Austria. The Allies certainly left out the silver platter when they handed them over. Wouldn’t I like to be there when the Hun comes running out with the white flag to call on General Foch. We are all saying, “When we move let’s take a trip to Austria.” It may be a case like the fellow who said, “Why learn French when we will be talking German in Berlin soon.” Only it will be Vienna if we should roll to Austria. Just think of their being eighty minutes from Berlin by air. Soon the aviation report will be, “So many tons of bombs dropped on ‘Unter den Linden.’” Won’t the Huns yell!
One of the boys that has come in since I started this letter has just gone out to get a bottle of wine so that we can celebrate the glorious reports. If we start in celebrating all such news, it will be—“Vin tous les jours.” Italy showed that she had a punch in each hand. Sad news from the front—“No wine.” Some one else must have decided to celebrate....
All the talk these days is, “When I get home.” I’ve heard what every man is going to eat, wear, and do, when he gets to the other side. Each one has his own taste in regard to food. In the clothing line, anything but a uniform is popular. As for doing—I am afraid the wheels of progress are not going to move very fast. All the boys are going to just sit or sleep.
There is now a barber in town—A French one. Although I need a hair cut pretty badly, I think I’ll stay away. From the work he has done on a few of the boys, I have come to the conclusion that I can do as good a job myself. Over here a bald headed man has the advantage. Nothing doing with the clippers, however, once was enough for me with a convict head....
The latest in regard to what becomes of us after peace is declared, is that we will be with the Army of Occupation. That doesn’t sound at all good. It is a good thing that hearing is not believing in most cases or I would be on pins and needles all the time.
November 10
Dear Mother—