The Anglo-American Hospital.
Wimereux, France.
April 23., ’17.

Dear Lulu

This is my 13th day in hospital. I wonder whether you have got my letters and my telegram! I hope you have or you will be anxious. I have written you about three times every two weeks, sometimes twice a week if I was able. Many must have been lost – perhaps as well, or you must have been flooded with literature.

Of course I have had no letters from you since I came here, and am afraid I shall have to resign myself to being without for some time. Woe’s me! I suppose that is part of the price I must pay for luxuries such as I am now enjoying. However, if you write to me in care of my father, Mr S. Johnson, 86 St Ives Rd, Rusholme, Manchester, England, I hope to get some in about a month anyway.

The doctor came to me just I finished the last sentence, and it so happened that we were left alone for a few minutes. I said to him, “How long will it be before my arm is well? About a month?” He answed me, “Comparatively; but the elbow will be stiffish for a long time”

I have written the actual words so that you would know all about me and not be anxious. What that word “stiffish” may mean I dont kow of course, but I take the ordinary meaning, for he is a fine straightforward man whom I can trust.

They seem to be expecting a great rush of cases soon, so the next four days may see me over in England. For some reasons I shall be glad to go. I may be sent near enough to my people to see them frequently; I shall see England again in all her beauty of spring – her sweetest garment; I shall be nearer Canada and you, tho the difference may seem small to you. But I shall be sorry to leave this hospital where everyone has been so kind to me from the moment I set foot in it. I seem to have received even special kindness.

Now, dear Lulu, I must stop. Let us pray that the war will soon be over and that I may – with Ainley – soon be back at Digby. Wont that be fine? It may be much earlier than we think. Give my kindest regards to your mama and papa, and to Carmen if he is at home.

Yours lovingly – but horribly lefthandedly
Tom

[transcription updated 2023-04-21]