[To: Mrs. E.K. Ramsey,
2703 Yakima Ave. N.]

Oct. 29^th 1915.

My Dear Mother,

I have just turned in to sleep in a barn, there are eight of us batmen in here and we have made hamucks of thick branches and wire, and I slung them to the roof. It feels pretty good and I think we will all sleep well. I will I know. I think we are here for the winter. It rains day after day and the roads are so bad that we are not much use. And we are not kicking, we have a nice dry and warm place, we are making a stove and getting well fixed for the winter. We are going to get high rubber boots and goat skin coats, so we will be all right. I got into bed with the full intention of writing a long letter, but now that I have started I find that I have nothing to say. You see as I have told you before we have to say very little and as there is very little to say I cannot say much can I. I suppose you know how things are going, Russia is doing fine just now and the French are advancing pretty good. My pen is on the bum, the nib is crossed or something it sticks in the paper every now and then.

On Tuesday, we saw a very exciting air duel between a Britisher and a German. The first thing we saw was the German over our heads. They began to fire at him with anti-aircraft guns, then one of our planes came along and the two of them were dodging about until our man got above the other and fired at him with a machine gun and hit him. The German made one long slanting dive down and landed in no mans land, that is between our first line and the German’s first line and of course that was the end of him. We have done well in that line this last week, we got quite a few Germans. We don’t get any trouble from Zepps over here. We have got a mascot now. We got it this morning, a three months old Belgium pup, and we washed him in disinfectant and made it too strong, and the poor thing got a mouth full which nearly poisoned it it lay on its side squeaking and grunting and it swelled up and we thought it would die, but it has pulled through and is running round and eating as if nothing had been wrong with it. I got a fine cake and a box of cigarettes from Queenie to-day and she is knitting a pair of gloves for me. It is very kind of her. I think I must have left a good impression there, I don’t mind, she has turned out an awfully nice girl you know. She asked me to send her love to you all. I also got a letter from Bert, George Douglas’s father has just died very suddenly. Bert has joined the Royal Submarine Miners, he is at home waiting to be called out. Well that is about all I have to say to-night, so you must excuse me now and let me lie down and go to sleep. So give my best love to Eve & Father, and Aunty & Uncle, and also to yourself.

Ever Your Effectionate Son
XXXXXXXXX
XXXXXXXXX