Somewhere in Flanders
Dec 2/15

My Dear Abbie

We came out of the firing line last night for a few days rest as usual. The weather was better this time, only about two days rain, but the mud was fairly bad. I was attached to the bombers this time, and wore a steel helmet. We all wear hip boots in the trenches and hand them over to the troops who relieve us. I own a pair, and am lucky for I've worn them steadily for three weeks, and they were really needed

I understand now why this country has Cobblestone roads, for every field, path etc is a sea of mud knee deep. I had a bit of fun coming out last night. We were of course carrying our full kit besides blankets, and it was fairly tiring floundering around in the dark up to the knees in muck. My feet got stuck and I went over backwards in the mess. I could'nt shove my hands down far enough to reach bottom and was absolutely helpless. one of the boys floundered up and took my hand, which was covered with slippery mud and started to pull me out. Of course his hand slipped off mine and he went over, and there we lay, half out of sight and just laughed. Four other chaps at last got us out, I used to think that the time the car got stuck behind the garage that night in the mud, that that was mud, but believe me, that place was a dry pavement to what this country is. This is just a statement, not a complaint. Your parcel of oct 29 was here when we got in at midnight last night. Thanks awfully old top. It certainly is heartening after floundering around for hours in mud and showers, to find a parcel waiting, showing that the folks at home still think of you. That sweater coat that you sent me, has been a great blessing, I've worn it constantly. I have often watched the peasants around here making lace, and had intended sending some to Canada for Xmas, but a lot of fellows who sent some when we first came over had it lost in the mails, so I wrote John to please attend to my Xmas shopping for me. Please let this letter be my Xmas letter to all at 17 Elm. I've figured [?] if we keep going in and out of the trenches for the same periods as before, and things go on the same, that we will be in the firing line Xmas Eve, and rest camp Xmas Day.

This is not official of course.

I do hope you people in Toronto have a great time this Xmas. Eat a big dinner for me, and have John smoke at Panatela for my share in the library. By the way, John must be lost in not having anyone to fill the library with smoke, so that he can raise the windows and freeze us out.

I'll never forget the kindness of you people in making me so much at home, and being so good to me.

Have you a gramophone now. Or do you keep the piano going, you are pretty keen on Scotch music Ab.

Have you ever heard or played that piece "The flowers of the forest" or "the Scotsmans Lament." Unfortunately I've heard the pipers play it too often over here, whenever one of our lads is lowered down sewed up in his blanket.

I had to laugh at one of the boys who came over the other day in a draft from England. I asked him what his impressions were as he came up to where we were stationed. He said, "Gosh I did'nt know what to think. On the road up several shells made us take refuge in a ditch, then we passed a very flourishing graveyard, then we met two stretcher parties carrying bodies for burial. I was put on a fatigue party as soon as I arrived with your bunch, and the chap next me got shot through the arm." Of course it seemed pretty bad to him, being under fire for the first time, but its wonderful how soon you just see things casually, which at first gave you quite a jolt.

Jack, John & I are happy, healthy, fat and in fine shape generally. We all send Xmas greetings to all who are interested Don't worry about us over here. There is a foot inspection now for trench foot so I must close. With love and best wishes to each and all for a very Merry Xmas and Happy New Year I remain

Your loving
Douglas G Buckley