M. Group. P. Wing. C. C. C.
June 11th ’19.
Hallo Agda Dearie
How’s the girl? I’m fine, but nearly all melted away. We are having a wonderful spell of really hot weather, and I find I have to slip my belt up one hole regularly every day, and I believe if I am kept here much longer they will have nothing of me to ship to Clan William, but a little piece of greece and an identity disc. I’ll leave you that in my will. Phew! it’s hot. I don’t know what it will be like, if one of these days I find myself with a pitch-fork in my hand and a couple of tons of hay to throw about. I’m getting real soft. I draw in a couple of fence posts the other day, and it raised blisters on my hands. Well Kiddie there is no news yet of sailing. I hoped to tell you that I would be leaving next Saturday, but I guess that will be another draft without me. Anyway I must surely be on my way some time this month. I guess I’ll have to raise [?] one of these days to let them know I am still here the S/M is getting to know me judging by the way he picks on me for [?] and [?] and things. but even that varies the monotony a little. I’ll write you again, girlie mine, and I do hope to be able to say something definite next time. I’m just going into the bush now and read an old Saturday Evening Post.
Be good to yourself Girlie Dear