Bramshott Camp
Sep 25th 1918
Dear Mother;-
It seems too bad to use this dirty sheet to write to you on but otherwise I suppose it would be wasted. A lot of paper is wasted in this way just because it is given free in spite of the fact that paper is so scarce. Soldiers seem to me like cattle in that respect. Let cattle into a straw stack and they want to get on top of it. I see no need for soiling the paper like this sheet has been and then grabbing a new sheet to write on.
I received your letter of Aug. 25th today so it was just a month reaching me. Also I got one you wrote Nora a little before. Am sending both on to the boys in France. Had two letters from Bert today but none from Will.
How we all wish that the defeat of the Turkish army could be so complete as to throw down that empire of violence and bloodshed, rapine and massacre forever. The Bulgarians seem just now to have suffered a reverse but there is no telling how things will look in that quarter by the time this reaches you. How I hope these victories with slight cost continue until the whole German nation howls “Kamerad”.
This reserve was getting pretty well drained out but a new lot have come in. Today we started on their musketry instruction. I was certainly pleased with the classes I had today. I am sure if I had them straight through I could have them shooting well when the time came to go to the ranges but of course I get a different lot each day as the instructors are switched around from one class to another. In fact they are not divided into the same squads for instructions any two days.
Josie wrote me a very nice and interesting letter from Normal at Camrose. She has grown into a charming girl of sweet seventeen. I hope she does well at Normal and at teaching afterwards.
I was ordered out of the hut in which I am acquainted to take charge of one with only new men in it. This morning one of them was saying that the United States were a nation of cowards who waited to see which way the war was going to go before coming in. I told him I wanted to hear no more of that sort of talk.
A musical programme is starting here so must close.
Your Loving Son,
Earl