Souilly – January 29th

Dear Milton,

I want to thank you for your thoughtful effort to give me such a clear picture of your Christmas festivities. It seems from the large number of engagements you filled that you have become quite a “man about town.” C’est bien, old boy, keep it up. I see the Old Amun Ra dances are still running true to form. Four hundred dollars is quite a little sum to be raised from a dance. They still must be flush with money in the States. Wish you had mentioned Ellen Lathrop in your letter. Don’t you ever see her? I am glad you called on Marind. Any little thing you can do in that direction will be greatly appreciated by me. It displeases me to have you think that I would disapprove of your good times. We over here are not so narrow minded as to begrudge you your pleasures. We all realize that if we were home, we would be doing the same thing.

We have been enjoying a stretch of fine weather for the last two weeks. It is warm with plenty of sunshine during the daytime, and night driving is made a pleasure by a large, full moon and plenty of stars. That is, it would be a pleasure if it was not for the possibility of running into some Boche planes. On such bright nights they can see traffic along the roads and by flying low they are able to sweep the roads with machine gun fire. I ran across a couple the other night as I was returning from a trip to Bar-le-Duc. I could tell that they were near by the noise of the anti-aircraft guns. I stopped my car alongside of the road and listened. What a break! I had hardly stopped before I heard the roar of a plane overhead and the “whiz, whiz, whiz” of bullets all around me. I never moved so fast in all my life as I dove under the car and got below the engine. In a minute the danger was all over. I crawled out and inspected the car. Eight holes in the body and two in the back of the seat where I had been sitting.

Tomorrow we move again for the fourth time this month. It is repos again this time, at the Bois de Ravigny, on the road to Ancemont from Souilly. We will probably be up again very soon as this fine weather promises an early beginning of the spring activities. From all appearances, this is going to be the last big drive, the result of which will decide the war. I expect to be leaving for my permission around the first of March, and I am looking forward to this rest with a great deal of pleasure. I tell you what you can do to please me. Hit that Latin a little harder—not only for me, but for the folks. Anything that would please them is a favor to me. Give Spencer a dime for a soda on me and I will see that you get it back. Write again soon and love to all.