October 13, 1944 Friday

Dearest Marjorie,

Friday the thirteenth today. It looks bright enough, tho. One of the prettiest days we’ve had. Pretty is a good word for England. It’s small and neat and just, pretty. The leaves are turning now, so the landscape reminds me even more of New England. The everchanging weather makes me feel at home, too. Instead of maple and elm trees, there are many, many beech trees. But they look generally like maples from a distance.

Since noon yesterday I have been Officer of the Day (O.D.) for the battalion. Had a guard mount, live in the guardhouse with the Sergeant of the Guard, check the battalion area for anything that needs checking, and several other little things. It’s a good job, on the whole, unless something unexpected comes up.

For your satisfaction, Aunt Flossie was wrong in every particular concerning my departure from the States. Leave it to her to be “in the know” on such things. Was interested in the news of Wiggins, tho. Please find out what you can.

So you did get started on your book! Not everybody gets to starting a book, even! I await my copy, Hon.

Your latest letter (I got 2 more yesterday) was dated Sept. 26. I believe they’ll come faster when the routes get smoothed out.

Glad you have been able to adjust yourself fairly easily to Keene life again. I mist you very much, Hon, but as you say, it’s not the desperate kind I have known. I think with you that new environments help that a lot. I love you forever.

All yours always,
Wallace