Same old Bill, eh Mable! | Page 4

French say Bill
_Dere Mable:_
Id have rote you sooner only the sensor wont let me tell where I am an I couldnt think of nothin else to say. This is the third letter Ive rote since we landed. Im a little worried about the other two cause the Captin said we couldnt menshun the names of no places. So I just addressed them to Mable Gimp, nothin else.
In case you dont receive letters like that I wish youd let me know. Then I wont be expectin any answer. Ritin letters from here is like talkin to a fello over the fone that aint there.
Im having a little trouble with the languige. Its tricky. A lot of these French words is the same as ours only they dont mean the same thing. Like "Pan" an "We" an "Mercy" an "Toot sweet." As soon as I find what the words stand for Ill be all right.
Some of the fellos dont seem to get onto the idear of this thing at all. They think if they talk like they had an egg in there mouth an put in lots of zs its French. Take Joe Loomis for instance. He talks like a German thats lived with the French Canadians for a while. Hell go into a lunch room an say "Geeve me ze beef stak rar, mit ze on-yon." Then he gets sore when they put the wine list in front of him.
It aint the wine list that makes him sore of course. He cant get over the American custom tho of eatin with his meals.
The first three days we was here we didnt have no guns nor horses or nothin. I thought perhaps the Captin would give us a chance to get over that rest camp, but he seems to have an idear tho that just so many of us has got to be killed in the war an the quicker he gets it over with the better. So every day he walks us about ten killen meters with the sun hot enuff to boil eggs.
The guns came yesterday. There painted up like a ten cent sunset. They call them Soizant Cans, whatever kind that is. They look pretty much in the bean blower class to me. One of those guns we left back in the States would take care of the four of them. But of course after polishin those up last winter till I almost wore them out the Captin had to come off an forget them. I guess now were stuck with these.
No horses came with the guns. I suppose we got to pull them around ourselves for the rest of the war. I can just here the Captin tellin Gen. Perishing, "No, no, General. My men havnt got a thing to do. Outside of a couple of single mounts for the oficers I wont need a horse."
I wish your mother could see the wimmin wash close over here. She might get more enjoyment out of that lawndress of hers. There is a lot of summer houses down beside a creek behind the town. Every day they go down there an stand in a barrel right in the creek. First they take the close an drag them around the creek for a while. Then they lay them on a wooden block an beat the buttons off them with a big board. A button in a steam lawndry leads a life of quiet ease compared with these.
[Illustration: "BEAT THE BUTTONS OFF THEM WITH A BIG BOARD"]
After they get them hammered out flat they hang them on a barb wire fence. In the evening they take home anything the cows has left in an old wheelbarro. I guess by that time there dirty enuff to wash agen cause there always washin and you dont see no results.
We spend all our time now drillin with those little guns. Of course there different from those we had in the States so everything we learned over there has to be forgot. As far as I can make out we might as well have learned basket weavin for all the good it did us.
Well, Mable, have as good a time as you can at home. I know how tiresome those broken-winded fellos must be. Id go around with them tho once in a while in case they should ask you. Democratic. Thats me all over, Mable. Its the only thing your father an me has got in common. Besides it will make it seem all the better when I get home.
Yours in spite of these things Bill
_Dere Mable:_
I guess your last letter must have been sensored to death cause I never got it. I been over here three weeks now an the only letter I got was a bill for some flowers I sent you a