July 19th, 1915.
Belgium

I just read your last letter to make sure I had'nt missed anything. You see I often get them and just have time to read them and "beat it". So I always keep them for about a week and re-read them when I get a chance to write.

You asked about the socks. They could'nt be better and I'm getting them just at the right intervals. I always have few pair, and not too many, and never run out.

I have been on horseback nearly all day, riding here and there, had tea with the Brigade Major this afternoon and am back "home" again after supper at the guns. We are all fine, but things are so quiet it is almost monotonous.

The men send home tons of little French post cards worked in silks and I've just finished censoring a pile. The horses are in good shape and always hungry. I gave my two a bit of maple sugar I was eating tonight, and they both hollered for more. They must be Canadians alright.

All is quiet and still tonight, not even the put put of a machine gun. Occasionally a waggon rumbles by and one can hear the voices of the drivers talking or singing to themselves. I sang all the way home tonight and whistled my whole "repotoire". Well there is'nt a thing to write about these days. We have'nt a garden at our F.O.O. station like we had at our first one, so I cant talk about that.