May 19, 1919.
Last night (Sun) I wrote a letter addressed to Easton but not to Bess that time. I felt that Willimer might like to hear from me and I surely would love to hear from him. You know we fellows are anxious to hear from some of the boys who have returned from over here but they all forget to write us.
Well all is as fine as frog hair with me. We have lots of beautiful spring weather and little work. I do nothing but eat and sleep, mostly eat for I am the same old owl as Harwood used to call me.
Yesterday was one of the best Sundays I have spent in some time. I had a big chicken dinner and then went horseback riding. In the evening I went to the movies and saw Charlie Chaplain in “A Dog’s Life”. I once thought that fool had seen his best days but his shows of last year are very popular with the A.E.F. Well the shows that we see are those shows in the States a year ago. Of course they are just new to use as they were to you.
Yes, Miss Smith wrote me that you were going to celebrate the anniversary of our departure. I thought of you people on that day. You know that was when I was on my air trip. I thought, well in one years time I had reached Germany and earned a service stripe there and was back to visit France for the second time. With this I saw the greater part of the war. No doubts that in another year I will have visited old Pa. more than once. That is my intentions any way.
The men are surely going home fast. Perhaps our orders will come some day. I wonder if they really will or will we remain over here the rest of our days.
Bess, I am lonesome for you. There is never a day but what I think of you lots of times and never a night but what I remember you in my prayers. DOn’t bother about me for I am living fine and will see you within the next few months. This life wouldn’t be bad if I could only be with you more. It has been a long time since I said “good bye” but am sure that when we meet we will not feel like strangers. You must be having some great times at home now since so many of the fellows have returned. Show them that they are appreciated and overlook some of their faults, for they have been through hell. I am sorry to write such a poor letter but you know how I am. Sometimes my ink fails to flow so freely as it does at other times. My short letters mean just as much as my long ones.
With love to all,