Shorncliffe Camp
May 7th 1916
Dear Father
I am very sorry that I didn't write to you sooner, but we are kept quite busy here though we are doing practically nothing. We are duty Batt'n next week, so I suppose we won't have any time to spare at all.
I had a large box of home made candy from home, also some Bull Durham Tobacco, and a Saturday Evening post. I haven't thanked them yet, so I must try to-day.
I had a very fine time at Ocle, though we didn't go rabbit shooting. We went around the farm on horseback Wednesday and to therefore Thursday evening. Jack wants us to both go up there for a month anyway before we go over to Canada after the war. I don't know if we can make it, but I very much hope so. I like Joan and Edward too. They certainly give Fred a lively time of it don't they? I guess I had better not say anything much about "Johnnie" though we certainly got on well together.
Saw lots of rabbits out in the open fields. I sure would like to shoot at them with a repeating 22. You could get in several shots before they got out of sight. Jack thinks they couldn't be hit with a rifle, but I would very much like to try. I think different.
I also liked his cider, it is certainly nice and cool, and I don't think it is nearly as strong as they think it is at Ivy House.
I don't think I am going up to London to work, but I may yet. I think I can get in the M-C dispatch anyway. I sure don't' want to stay in this. We have been here four weeks now, and we have done absolutely nothing except fatigues, guards, picquets, and a couple of days trench digging. We don't know near as much as when we left Vancouver, I don't think they want men very badly. I applied for a M-C license yesterday or I should say wrote for blank application forms. I shan't fill them out ‘till I see about the dispatch corps, as I wouldn't have to stand the expense then.
I had it running the other day. I started first time after lying idle for over two months. Well father, I will try and write again in a few days and let you know about any further happenings.
Your Loving Son
George