was when God said, "Let there be Light;" a man just something with a
mind purged of the past and ready to observe afresh. I question whether
a return to old environments will ever restore to us the whole of our
old tastes and affections. War is, I think, utterly destructive. It
doesn't even create courage--it only finds it in the soul of a man. And
yet there is one quality which will survive the war and help us to face
the temptations of peace--that same courage which most of us have
unconsciously discovered out here.

Well, my dear, I have little news--at least, none that I can tell. I'm
just about recovered from an attack of "flu." I want to get thoroughly
rid of it before I go back to my battery. I hope you all keep well. God
bless you all.

Yours ever,
Con.




XLIX

February 6th, 1917.

My Very Dear M.:

I read in to-day's paper that U.S.A. threatens to come over and help us.
I wish she would. The very thought of the possibility fills me with joy.
I've been light-headed all day. It would be so ripping to live among
people, when the war is ended, of whom you need not be ashamed.