Dear Mudder and Dad,
Well, here I am again. Wot a pest, huh? I’m now going to attempt to write a letter despite a rather noisy poker game being fought out right next to me. If you suddenly find a full house or two in this letter, you’ll know I got a little “confoozed”.
Life is just as boring as ever around here and to make things worse we’re restricted due to the periodical “E.T.O. Roundups”—picking up AWOL’s. so, “as fer usual” there’s not much to write about. Some fellows can think up the most interesting pack of lies to put in their letters but I just can’t do it. T’aint right.
I just went up for a shower and is that an ordeal? Definitely. The night air is cold enough, but in that shower-room which is full of holes and cracks for the wind to whistle through anyway—you can imagine. It’s like a nudist colony in Siberia--I wanna come home. I ain’t never gonna like this war. I wonder how many others share my feelings.
There’s a terrific air of expectancy all over around here now. Everyone feels it but no one knows what it is. The front has been pretty quiet for some time now and there seems to be a terrific turmoil going on inside Germany. I think something’ll pop soon now. Just a hunch—but.
That about does it. Not much news but I try to write a letter every night now. Tomorrow I’ll start answering all those back letters again.
Hope you are all well and say hello to the neighbors for me.