Dear Young Ladies of St. Andrews -
It was one night when we were down in the chalk cave that Argyle, in a letter from home, first received word that the St. Andrews Young Ladies were sending us each a box.
“By Jove Mac” I said, “Those will be real boxes, too”
And so they proved to be, when we received them - Argyle's today, and mine a couple of days ago. Just such boxes as one would expect to receive from Arden, (and quite in keeping with the reputation that St. Andrews Ladies have made for themselves in culinary art.) It was almost as good as being at a harvest home supper in the church, and as we unwrapped each of the little parcels, and found all the good things to eat you can imagine how we thanked you girls.
Perhaps it is not necessary to tell you that we didn't both drawing our mulligan issue on the days that the parcels came.
As most of you know probably, the food issue over here is one of our chief causes for complaint. Of course soldiers always have to “grouse” about something, and the daily round of rations gives us good scope to exercise our “grousing” abilities. The boxes that we get from home are the only variation that we get in our 'eats' and nothing is more welcome to us than good home cooking and good warm home-knit socks
We have not been in the trenches now for some time, but are in training behind the lines. The weather has been very very miserable, lately. Rain every day, and consequently a great deal of mud. Oh that awful French mud. We will never forget it. Of course it is not as bad out here as in the trenches, and there is a chance to get it cleaned off and our clothes and shoes dry at night.
The huts that we are in now are quite comfortable Each man has a good bunk, and Argyle and I of course sleep together. You cannot imagine how much it means to have a good chum over here, and wherever we go or whatever we do, Mac and I are together.
Last night long after “Lights Out” had sounded, we lay and talked about Arden - about school and church and Sunday School, and parties and concerts - about Hollow'een nights and skating and shooting and swimming and boating, until we forgot France and all the horrors of this awful country, and lost ourselves in these happy reminiscences of home. How we hope and pray that it will not be long until we are back again to dear old Canada.
Before I close I will ask you to thank Mrs Fosken for the 'Xmas cake that she so kindly sent in the parcel. I have not cut it yet, but do not have to taste it to know how good it will be. It is so well done up that I am going to save it until I get into the trenches again
And now, thanking you all again, I must close
With very kindest regards to you all from an old St. Andrew boy in France
Pte W. M. Pecover