Somewhere in Flanders
Nov 20/15

Dear Family at Elm Ave

 I find it practically impossible to keep up with my correspondence unless I address you collectively. Something held up our Canadian mail for a few days and I received no less than six letters last night. We are only allowed one letter a day and I’ve missed todays mail, so will be a week acknowledging the letters I received in one night However for Heavens sake dont let that stop you all from writing me. Letters are appreciated here, believe me.

I received Abs note saying she was sending Xmas Parcels to Jack & myself from the church. That makes three parcels on the way for me. One from Mother, one from Ab & one from the church. Its funny to see the boys receive things from home. They nearly always crawl into a corner and gloat over the things, but if there is anything to eat every man in the dugout gets a share.

I have been busy for the last couple of days (we are in reserve now) working on barbed wire entanglements.

I bet if Father had some of the contraptions I made this morning across our lane that [?] Fosters cows would’nt bother him. If they once got caught they would [?] their milk getting out. The artillery brought down a German aeroplane close to us yesterday. Frank Thomson got a piece of wood from it as a souvenir.  Being at work I could’nt get over for anything. Last night I was working with a party in the fields behind our firing line when the Huns discovered us and started some shrapnel our way. Gosh!!!

We were happy boys when we found ourselves back in the corner of the old battered barn that we are now residing in. If it makes you apprehensive when I write about little incidents like that, just let me know and I’ll stop, but there is’nt much else to write about, except our daily doings. Dont worry about us, everything is lovely. Its no worse than dodging street cars, and motors on Yonge.

When you write to Guysboro tell them how much I appreciate poor Fathers faithful letters every week. I know how tired he must be some-times, but I get a letter from him every week, and it makes me feel kind of badly sometimes, that he should write when he is so tired.

Old Ted will have had his birthday long before this letter crosses the Atlantic. I hope he got my letter for the occasion. I guess there will be a big change in the lads when I get back.

Jack is out at present with hip boots and a shovel working at a cave in in the trenches. The weather has been fine for two whole days. We expect a cloudburst, after the long drought. (Irony)

Remember me to all the friends in Toronto. We are all well and happy. We dont see much of McFayden now as he is with the bombers. He was looking frisky a few days ago.

Much love to you all and many thanks for your letters

Your loving brother or uncle as the case may be

Douglas. G. Buckley