Still in a French Camp

I am glad the Army has issued Herb some good boots - he no longer needs to wear the rubbers his mother made him buy.
And helpful to hear about the censor - makes the lack of news more understandable.


February 20, 1918
Dear Mother,

Everything is about as usual. I’m still in the first French camp we came to, though I’m in hopes that we may move to one of the larger camps before very long. I’ve been in the best of health so far and I’ve enough work to do to keep me out of mischief. There has been one mail delivery for us so far. I was a bit disappointed not to have drawn anything but it wasn’t a large mail so we couldn’t all be lucky. It was all stuff that had been forwarded from Allentown, any way – no A.E.I. stuff.

Gosh, I’d give a lot to see an up-to-date New York Times or Sun. The papers around here are a joke. Most of them are one sheet affairs with a column or so of current news pretty well camouflaged and the rest such junk as one finds on the woman’s page or in a ‘hick’ weekly – jokes, etc.

I’m tramping around now in a pair of the heaviest hob-nailed shoes one ever saw – unless it be on a German soldier. They’re fine, though, I find – easy on the feet and the heavy oiled leather keeps out the damp.

I don’t know just how they figured the seasons around here but home we’d call it Spring, I guess.The days are fine sunny and fairly warm – the nights cool and rather damp. Since the first two or three days of our stay here it has rained only a couple of times. I’m afraid this letter can’t be stretched any further. The censorship rules are certainly strict – and lengthy. They could be made shorter by mentioning the things one can write of instead of the things one can’t.

My best love to you all and regards to anyone who may ask for me.
Your affectionate son,
Herb.