F.q. Ward,
West Section,
May 11., '17.
Dear Lulu
I am hoping today to get a letter from you. It is just about four weeks since I first asked you to write me in care of my father, so if the boats are anyways regular I ought to get a letter. What makes me more hopeful is that I received my first word from Canada two days ago; from Rev A.O. Rose in Winnipeg, one of my best college friends. He had seen my name in the list of casualties; at first he thought under 'killed in action', but later 'wounded'. It was fine to hear from him. Will you let me introduce him to you? We were ordained the same year - 1914 - and two days afterwards I acted as 'best man' at his wedding. He lost no time, did he? He married one of the late Dr Woodsworth's daughters.
I wonder what you are doing now! Do you go out into the bright spring sun much? Are the trees green yet? What does our old camp site look like now? Are roads good enough for us to take a car to Annapolis? If they are will you come? I suppose District Meeting is just being held, & your father is getting ready to go to Conference. Wont he need me to supply for him? Tell him I should be delighted to do it.
Well, Lulu, my wounds are nearly healed now; they are dressed only every third day. My arm is still in a frame, stretched straight out, & resting on a locker by the side of the bed; an amusement to some, a nuisance to others, and an abomination to myself. I expect they will soon bend it at the elbow and put it into an arm sling. Then I shall be able to get up and walk around. After that I shall be sent to a convalescent camp, & time will show how long it will take to get back the use of my arm.
Of course if it means a year of convalescence I shall dislike staying around here horribly. It seems such a sinful waste of time. Already I am tired of this forced inactivity. But the slow moving military machine holds me tight. I have written Rev. Endicot asking him to try to get me back to Canada so that I can go back to my ordinary work, even if I return to France when I am fit for military service, I told him what I told you of the doctor's opinion at Wimereux. I wish I knew how this could be affected for I am doing no good here; merely helping to eat up England's scarce food supply & becoming less & less efficient every day. At home a disabled right arm need not greatly hinder my doing ordinary work of the ministry.
As far as I can see from these windows the country is very beautiful just now. A soft light green clothes all the trees, while the grass is long & luxuriant. This morning a man was cutting it near my window with a sythe. The currant bushes, or which there seems to be a large number here, are laden with red & white blossom, & the birds are singing nearly all the time. Soon I hope to go out in time to see the hawthorne blossom & may flowers on the roadsides. Wont you come a walk with me, Lulu, along these beautiful English lanes?
I hear very frequently from my people here now, & from old friends in Manchester. I find that I am still well remembered at the M'r Mission, Rev. S.F. Collier announced my arrival in England as a wounded soldier at the large service - so one of my old friends writes. After all, it seems good to be remembered after so long an absence.
Well my dear Lulu you will certainly get tired of getting so many long, left-handed epistles, but it is like having a chat with you
Yours affectionately
Tom.