France,
April 14, 1918.

My dear Win,

You are a brick. Thanks a million times for the fine long letter, which I got a few days ago. Awfully sorry to hear that poor old Ken has had such a bad time. Rotten luck. Very busy at present as you can imagine, so this will have to be short.

I saw B. Marling for a few minutes this afternoon, and hope to see some more of him as he is not far away. He is looking very well and fit. Also, Otter Stewart is out now, and I think quite close to here, so I must try and find time to look him up.

I wish you could see my little shack - awfully comfortable. A fine, open fireplace which is blazing away at present, as it is cold and windy - feels like snow. Two days ago you would have thought it was July, it was so hot and bright. Fine climate!

I see by today's paper that Jimmy Atwood has been wounded, and Victor Nordheimer has been killed - do you remember him?

I was in England on a four week course and two weeks leave, but was recalled after the first week of the course. So here I am back for the big scrap. But you will notice that he [the Germans] doesn't try much against the Canadians. He will get all that's coming to him if he does. We feel awfully proud of ourselves these days.

Must say good night now, dear. Do please write as often as you can. Give my kindest regards to your mother, father, and Ken.

Yours,
George Hilliard.