The ordinary good-fellowship of the mess has been replaced by a finer
solidarity and a praiseworthy attempt at adaptation. One of the
advantages of our situation is that we can, as it were, play at being
soldiers with the certainty of not wasting our time. All these childish
and easy occupations, which are of immediate result and usefulness,
bring back calm to the mind and soothe the nerves. Then the great stay
which supports the men is a profound, vague feeling of brotherhood which
turns all hearts towards those who are fighting. Each one feels that the
slight discomfort which he endures is only a feeble tribute to the
frightful expense of all energy and all devotedness at the front.


_August 25._

This letter will barely precede our own departure. The terrible conflict
calls for our presence close to those who are already in the midst of
the struggle. I leave you, grandmother and you, with the hope of seeing
you again, and the certainty that you will approve of my doing all that
seems to me my duty.

Nothing is hopeless, and, above all, nothing has changed our idea of the
part we have to play.

Tell all those who love me a little that I think of them. I have no time
to write to any one. My health is of the best.

. . . After such an upheaval we may say that our former life is dead.
Dear mother, let us, you and I, with all our courage adapt ourselves to
an existence entirely different, however long it may last.