January 20, 1918.
My dear Win,
Thank you very so much for your parcel. The socks are splendid and fit perfectly.
I have been very lucky as I don't think there has ever been a letter or a parcel lost from Canada for me. Some of them have been an awfully long time on the road, but they have always turned up in the end.
You will have heard all about dear old Geoff long before you get this, so I won't try to tell you as I find it so hard to write. I am so thankful that I was able to see such a lot of him while he was out here, and also that I was able to get leave and be with him at the hospital. I am afraid it has been an anxious time for you all too - Ken being in Halifax. I have heard that he was injured, but have no particulars. I do hope it wasn't serious.
I wrote to you a long time ago, but had no answer, so I'm afraid the letter was lost. We are out resting at present, and I have a very good billet. A wonderful bed with sheets, and Madame spoils me absolutely - coffee every morning before I get up and a hot brick done up in a towel in the bed every night when I get in. We have had beautiful Canadian weather too most of the time. Cold and bright with quite a lot of snow. So much better than rain and mud.
Must say goodnight now as it is pretty late. Thank you again dear, ever so much for your thoughtfulness.
Please write as often as you again.
With love to yourself and your mother and father.
Geoffrey Hilliard was killed in France.