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Date: September 1st 1917
Little Wife
W J. Wood

From 644539- Pte. W. J. Wood Virginia Water Camp C.F.C.

Letter no 57

Surrey, England

To Mrs. W. J. Wood. Box 639, Midland, Ont. Canada. Sept, 1st, 1917.

My Dear Little Wife:- your 24 & the next one = Apr 13th & 17th to hand last night. I think, now, all the back numbers have arrived. It would only muddle things to reply to them in the usual way as I do not know what verses in letters I’ve sent were alluded to. But I am sure you suffered the same cursed cold that I had later. I hope we may never have the like of it again. I realized at once that it would have to take it’s course and that remedies would be useless. So I gave strict attention to diet, exercise and rest. Otherwise the system might have failed to resist it and consumption set in. Only it depressed the mind whereas consumption seems to stimulate it.

Everything is going on as usual here. The seasons change, but the war goes on as though it had become chronic. Grain is in stock awaiting fine weather to dry it out. Rain and gales have been the thing of late. Fruit is shook down by the ton, unripe, and wasted. I see the black Elderberries ripening. They are plentiful and I should love to see you let loose here for a time. Pies we would have in plenty. I know and fruit in plenty.

Well, Dearie, I was interrupted. I had to go down to the “Wheatsheaf” and help the driver to load a trunk of Col. White’s into the car we went down in then I finished up my work for the morning and was just saying to Joe Calachan my fellow batman, as he was washing up ready to wait on table in the officer’s mess. “Well, we’ll take a little lull now until noon”, it was 11:30 A.M. then, when the adjutant for whom Joe is batman called “Joe” “Joe”. Joe traveling himself did not hear the first, but I saw Mr. Simsom calling with a smile on his face, he apparently was aware that he was always wanting Joe. The adjutant is a mere boy, but a very lovable chap full of curiosity and fun, so that, while he puts his room into a state of chaos almost every time he goes into it. Joe forgives him and patiently puts things to right again. He is also a very great favorite with the girls, judging by the no. of photos of them he has adorning his room. One was addressed to or with love for “my little Canadian.” Likely some one he has met in Piccadilly or elsewhere. I will enclose verses on “Piccadilly.” Well I’ve been interrupted again – I’ve had my dinner = plenty of potatoes, some meat, turnips, bread and tea. That is all: That is enough!

With wood to cut, three or four officers to look after and the days getting short, I find myself pretty busy. I have not been to London lately, but have a lot of work on Lt. Morse’s pictures. mounting and [?] the matte. I will be a couple of weeks at them yet with so little time to spare on them. I am doing nothing by artificial light yet as I value my eyes no wish to abuse them. Getting up at daylight now. I can cut wood or something until nine at night or take a walk to town: its generally cut wood; very like life at home in that way.

I’ve written to Rev. Elliott and Mr. Thorburn, and Sara lately also to H.B. Myers in Barrie. Ething is out of it entirely at present. The same may be said about the fine weather. It is cold, wet and windy today, nothing summer like about it.

Col. MacLaren goes to London again tomorrow to study, barter and buy pictures. Its his hobby.

When I read your letters I am made to feel glad that I have written you some, little, soft, lovey things sometimes. Anyway it is surely pardonable even for a forty year old to be silly over one little woman, who has been everything to him for many years, I am going to let you know as well as words without the music can convey to you, the way I feel, and as you, in your own sweet way, have told me sincerely, I believe, you feel “Every Little While”

I miss you my, honey, when you are away.

I find myself dreaming of you, night and day.

I’m losing my appetite, losing my mind!

I try to forget, for a while,_ then I find_

(Chorous) Every little while I feel so lonely:

Ever little while I feel so blue.

I’m always dreaming, I’m always scheming:

Because I want you; and only you_

Every little while my heart is aching,

Every little while I miss your smile.

And all the time I seem to miss you.

I want to! Want to! _ Kiss you_

Every, every, every, little while___

There is none but you has a place in my heart

I’m needing you always, we never should part

I can’t live without you! now, come back to me

I can’t settle down! I’m as blue as can be


You should hear this solo as it is rendered on the gramophone in the “dry canteen.”

It would never do for you to be more to me, than you are, my pet. So do not lament your trilby voice. My own Dear Love, you are! W. J. Wood.

Not lamb!

Original Scans

Original Scans