France: “the day we get our letter from home is a (Red Letter) day in the history of the soldier out here”

23rd Sept 1917

My Dear Mother

Just a few lines in answer to your ever welcome letter, which I received alright. And I am glad to know that yourself and all at home are still enjoying your usual good health as this leaves myself in the same at time of writing. I am glad if getting a letter from me does you any little good. It is all I can do for you while I am out here. But I believe you think so long as you get a letter from me that everything is alright. But what about me out here? I think it is just a bad if I do not hear from home. For the day we get our letter from home is a (Red Letter) day in the history of the soldier out here. It is the only way we can hear what is going on. The slender thread between us and the homeland. I do not think the people at home understands what it means to be out here. They think if they hear from those out here that is all is required. But never for a moment do they look at it from the soldier’s point of view. They never seem to think that he is just as anxious about those at home as they are about him. But anyhow I always look forward to getting a letter from home.

Well I hope Jimmy and Annie are not working too hard this weather. I suppose the people are in the midst of the harvest. I am 3 years left home this week and I may tell you I have seen some sights since that. But as long as you keep well yourself and all at home I am quite content.

Well the weather is still keeping fine and I hope it may continue as it is most pleasant. Does Jack ever be home? I had no word from him this long time. But I think it is my fault as I do not think I answered [h]is last letter, but I must write to him as soon as I get time. But if you see him remember me to him. I had a letter from Jennie the other day and she is well. They are at Bangor now.

Well I think I will have to close for this time. Hoping to hear from you soon again. Remember me to all at home. No more at present.

Goodnight
I remain
Your loving son
Johnnie