Love, War, and Medicine


Friday, January llth Off again on way to front llne trenches after sick parade (7:15 A.E. to 8:00 A.~.) and breakfast. Off we went for a march of about twenty miles (Rethonvillers - Bilancourt - Languesi~n - Nesle - Ham Vertgalant - 011ezy - St. Simon-Artemps - Seranceurt)-. We reached there about %:30 P.~. in the dark. I was dead tired as I marched all the way except for two miles on horseback. The march was through mud plus rain. The next day had two sick parades as our battalion was partly in Ser.~ncourt and partly in the nearby village of Artemps.

January 12, 1918 De ar Folk~, I try to write letters home as often as I can, but we move so much it’3 very difficult at times. The life in the army in wartimes seems to be best stated as the ’moving’ life - we seem to be on the go every few days.


Love, War, and Medicine


We’re now billeted in huts many miles behind the line. There are a few cltizeus here and all the land is carefully cultivated. There are many French soldiers he,.e with us, and the Tommies and Frenchmen get along firstrate. The French sky-blue uniform with pretty blue steel helmets looked very trim and neat. On the march yesterday, we were passed by two American ambulances, the first I’ve seen, and it certainly made me feel good to see the letters ’U.S.A.’ painted on the sides of these motor cars. It seems that a United States ambulance station is close by somewhere - I’m going to visit £t if I can. My leave comes about the end of the month, I’m told, and I’m going to sper~d it in Paris with A1 Barnett, if possible. Want to come along? Yesterday got that bu:_<.le of periodicals that lay so long in London: Also two Hartford, Connecticut papers. Who sent them? Joe, ! suppose. Thank you. Have had no mall from home for several days, but hope my luck will be better soon. Though this is January 12th (Sarah’s birthday), it is very warm and you don’t even have to wear an overcoat. The snow has all disappeared, but there’s plenty of mud instead. While at Paris, I will stop at the American University Club there - this is for former college students of United States only. They say it is very fine. Well, there’s no more news, so close with best love to you all. Affectionately, Lee P.S. Enclosed is one-half of a ribbon taken from a Boche during the late Battle of Cambral. It represents the Iron Cross (2rid Class). Letter #2 January 12, 1918 Dearest Nina, I’m waitlog, simply waiting. For what, you ask? Silly quest!on~ For letters from you, of course. The postman is due here any time and I’ve had no mall from you f-or six days, six long days. You don’t know how eagerly I long for your letters, though I do realize what a lot of time I demand from you and that you’re a busy lady. But please keep up the supply. We’ve moved again. Yesterday We marched twenty miles through mud and rain. We started at 8:~5 A.M. and finished at 5:30 P.M. Stopped at the side of the road for an hour for "lunch - another standing-up affair. As we marched along, the’ scenery gradually changed. The houses took on more and more of a warlike appearance -

Love, War, and Medicine


a chimney knocked off here, windows broken there; more trenches, more barbed wire; less and less civilians until we came to our destination where only a few llve, We’re still several miles back of the llne, but now you can hear an occasional shot and see the sausage-shaped observation balloons high in the air. And last night you could see the Yerry Lights which are sent up by both sides to illuminate ’No .~an’s Land.’ We’re in a very quiet sector, Nina, where there is very little fighting almost a truce exists here.. It’s much more civilized than the sector we lefO over a month ago. Am writing this in ou_~ mess but by the usual candlelight. We’ve got a stove going, but you hardly ~eed it as it’s so war~ out tod~y you don’t even have to wea~ an overcoat. I have a pretty d~c~nt bed and room for myself and a fair±y good i~spect!on room. Wheo we pulled in last night, we were certainly tired. Mud from head to foot. I crawled into bed at 9:30 P.}~. and hit the hay for twelve solid hours and I can tell you I feel much better today. Another Everyweek came. Again many thanks. How many time~ have I told you that? A good many, I know. No sign of the post, so will close with loads and loads of love. Lee Sunday, January 13 Was muddy, but warmer and some sun. After another two sick parades, walked 7 KM. to our support llne, back of the trenches. ~et a French ~.0. and had a nice chat in mixed French and English. Back to my dugout with my battalion at 8:00 P.~M. Altogether walked some 21 Kin. and was very tired and footsore. The next day (~riday, January !Sth) it poured all day. The roads and trenches ’::ere frightfully muddy. Was told that there was a heavy barrage on both sides about 6:30 A.M., but I slept through it. Finished reading a book entitled "The Duke’s Motto," by Justin ~cCarthy (very good).

Love, War, and Medicine


Sent one of our men, Private K!llen, to the hospital (suspect cerebrospinal meningitis). Also am now president of our officers’ mess meals. Letter #3 5~onday, January ~th My own glrl, Who said the !3th was unlucky? It is not, fo~ yesterday, when I was feeling pretty tired and footsore came three of the nicest letters a man ever received. Needless to say, they were from you - yours of December 20, 23 and 26 and I read them eagerly for I hadn’t heard from you for many days. Then I read them .twice, got into bed and read them again before blowing out the candle. Then I fell asleep thinking of you and when I got up this morning, I read them all once more before Jumping out of bed,a thing I never did before. So you can realize what a hold you have on me. It’s wonderful,- I never felt so to anyon~ before. Am glad you got all my letters up to ~cember 5th. I’ve written a good many since, some of which you probably have already received. As I wrote you so~ time ago, I’m going to number my letters (this i~ Number 3) and want you to do the same. Yes, I do ke~p all your letter~. I have all of them from October ~nd with me, those before that are at a brigade store where part of my kit Is. But I’ll bri~ t~m all back with me. The suggestion you make of reading them all to each other when we meet Is a good one. He~’e’s ~opin~ t~t will take place soon. There !s plenty of water to drink here. We get It from wells and put it in t b~ water cart and chlorinate it before drinking. Of course, we test the water before adding the bleaching powder. T~ French drink practically no water,-- all the troops have light wine rations. T~ British drink but little water also,- they get their water in their tea which they drink frequently.. I d~i~ water, but haven’t met anyone else as yet who does. In answer to yo~ questions,- I am signed up for five years and cannot resign in time of war. But if peace Is declared, I will be put back on the inactive llst and will be subject to call a~ain till my five years is up. Were I to Join the regular army, ~d ~ compelled to sign up for five years more and would not be allowed to resign till the next five years were up, even though peace was declared. ’Tis true that if I Joined the regulars, I~ get to go back to United States for a

Love, War, and Medicine


while, but even that I couldn’t be sure of. No, when this war is ocer, me for civilization again as soon as possible. And as I wrote you in a previous letter, I intend to take the quickest way home, i.e., the Atlantic and not the Faclf’~c. And after passing the Statue of Liberty, I hope to meet my own sweet darling once more. Would I object to havin~, you give ~ a real long kiss? I would not! I only wish I had you here and I would prove it. I’ll admit I have kissed other girls before, but never one I cared about the way I do you. You have woven yourself into my being and have become a vital part of my life. And I am sure we love each other dearly and I am wry happy in that knowledge. It is true that when 1 reached New York and even when I left two days later, i regarded you as the nicest cousin I have, bus I did not think at that time thai we would ever be more than that. But somehow, I don’t know Just how, we have gradually grown closer and closer together in spirit and in heart, though we have been widely separated. Today I think of no other glrl but you. I have no difficulty in writing to you as I have no secrets you are not to share. Wi~h others, letter writing is far more difficult, and indeed I have to force myself a~ times to answer letters to relatives and friends. So that it has gradually come to pass that the cousinly love has becom.e forever replaced by a real true love which is very strong, and will become stronger and stronger as time goes on. There have been tlmos in the last month or so when we were back in civilization that temptation has come my way, temptation In one form or anobher. Each time your sweet face and purity have come before me and I have resolutely gone along tl-,e straight path. For I want to bring you a clean mind and a clean body and not a human wreck. You ask me not to take unnecessary risks, for your sake. I won’t and I never have. A man who gets hit when in a place he should not be is not doing a service to his country, so that I stick to my own work as much as possible. Of course, ff your duty demands exposure to danger, as it occasionally does, that’s different,you face it without questioning. But a man who faces danger when it does his country no good is only foolishly risking his life. You are a dear glrl to offer to share your Xmas check with me, but 1 can’t let you do it. Just keep it and watch it grow and buy Libert’y Bonds with your money. That’s the stuff to give ’era’. And please don’t buy me any such gifts costing $10 as you suggest. Really, I need nothing bu.t peace and you. My kit is already too large and I’m reducing it as much as I can. So please send me all your love, - that’s the most

Love, War, and Medicine


precious gift you can give me. But I love you for your unse if ishne s s. You did the right thing in telling Gussle not to write to me, though I llke her very much. Still, I do write to her very often as all the general news in my letters to you are intended not only for you, but also for Nour ~’amil~ and S~ella. The personal news is, of course, for you only, and I know you keep that to yourself. So, please, say nothing of this to Gussie. I am a bit overburdened with correspondence, and I want to keep the llst I write to as small as possible so that I can write more often to you. You evidently had a lovely Xmas and some nice gifts. I wish I had been there to help you celebrate. But, as I wrote you, I had a nice time myself. You say you received a camera, so I insist you take some photos of yourself ’tout de suite’ and send some to me. Al\so, I would very much appreciate a large-sized photograph of you, one that I can look at when I get lonesome. More American doctors have Joined our division, but haven’t met any yet. I seldom see other doctors, though, as a battalion medical officer sees his own battalion and that’s about all. You ask me not to mention you in my letters home and I will obey you in this as in other things. But you say they don’t love you as I do. No, they don’t, but I do know that t~y think a great deal of you and speak of you frequently and always in the most complimentary manner. So don’t worry about my folks for they have a very warm spot in their hearts for you. When I last wrote you two days ago, I was in a halfway ruined village several miles back of the line in a new sector. It is close to the place you thought I was in at first. And now I’m once more in the llne, though. not as yet in the front line. And I’m writing this in a dugout once more. It seems like home to return to these cave-like dwellings after five weeks of rest way back in civilization. And it seems natural once mo~e to wear a steel helmet; to have your gas mask strapped around your chest in the alert position; to down deep stairways with watchful care for the overhead beams; " to depend on a candle for your daytime as well as nighttime illumination. Ti-~ life is no$ an unpleasant one, Nina, though it seems hard to believe, I know, from your point of view. But, really, it is clean and warm and dry down here. We h~ave tables and. chairs and shelves, telephones, cookhouse, waiters, good food and plenty of it, good beds, and practically nothing to do,- what more can one desire during war? I sleep in an upper berth, my batman in the lower. I have a curtain screen in front of my Pullman compartment which is the only difference between ~y bed and the eleven others in the

Love, War, and Medicine


dugout which is also used for my regimental aid post (R.A.P.). This is a very quiet sector of the llne and firSng is very slight. The battalion we relieved had practically no casualties, though they held this line for a good long time. So we anticipate no trouble at all, though we’re well prepared should anything crop up. We came in here without .any trouble whatsoever. ~y aid post is next to the battalion headquarters, so I don’t have to go very far for my four meals a day. In the llne I have very little to do under these normal conditions. I see a few sick daily, chiefly boils and aches and ’colds.’ Perhaps one man goes to the hospital a day - that would be sn average - these are chiefly trench fevers (Just like la grippe) and scabies (Itch). When sick parade is over, I walk around the companie~ and Ins~ect .aan~l~ary details, and then I’m through f~r the day uul~ :~omu ~nusua.]. c.t~.cum~tances should arise. So you see what an easy time I have in the li~e, much less to do than when you’re back. My leave is due very soon and I’ve definitely deolded to spend it in Paris, if possible, with A1 Barnett. While there I’ll put up at the University Club which is restricted for the use of United States college students only. A1 wrote it’s very nice there. Will let you know more about it. I~ expect to be on leave before the end of this month. You may expect some picture postals of Paris soon. The weather continues fairly warm, though there is a little snow on the ground. Still, in the daytime you don’t even have to wear an overcoat. I’ii bet in New York everyone’s going around with his fur (or other) collar up as high as he can get it. Got a nice letter from Stella yesterday; she’s very funny; for fear she didn’t tell you, I’ii quote a paragraph from her letter: ’No, I shouldn’t assume what you describe as Liberty’s pose over any man - prostrate or otherwise unless l’d first put his lamps completely out of commission, l’m a lady and modest, even doubt It.’ I had a good laugh at that. Nina, dear, don’t you think l’ve written enough for today? I do: But before I finish I want once more to impress on you the fact that you are the nicest and sweetest girl I ever met, and that I am very proud to be able to return the affection yo~u bear to me. And, oh, girl of mine, I love you very, very much.
Your own


Love, War, and ~ediclne

January l~, 1918 Dear Grandmother, First of all my heartiest congratulations for you~ birthday. And here’s hoping that all youl~ wishes for the coming year shall come true. It is true that I don’t write very often to you personally, but you know that all my letters home are intended for you Just as much as for mother and father and the others. So that you can see I think of you ver~. fre que nt ly. Father always writes about you, so I’m glad you’re in good health and happy. Keep it up: Received a long letter from Will yesterday and one from Joe. Will answer them as soon as possible. Also received a parcel from Marie - strawberry Jam, walnuts, salmon and soap. Please thank her for me. The glass Jar came smashed, but we rescued the Jam all right and it c~ertainly did touch the right spot. From what I hear, "you are having some pretty cold weather and I can see "you sitting close to the steampipe and hugging it for dear life. While I go without an overcoat - it’s warm and sunny out here, though there’s a little snow on the ground. So you see it’s pretty soft to be out in France, after all. Tea is on the table - tea, sweet crackers, gooseberry Jam, bread and butter. You are cordially invited to Join me in this English luxury. Don’t know what I’ll do when I’m transferred to the American forces and go back to three meals a day. My vacation is drawing closer. Before the end of this month, I expect to be in Paris doing sight-seeing once more. When I get back to Chicago, I’ll be an expert at that art. Just finished tea and it proved very good, as usual. Have some work to do now, so you’ll have to excuse me for the present. Please give my love to the folks and take care of yourself. Wish I could be with you to help celebrate your birthday. Your loving grandson, Lee" P.S. All quiet and peaceful here. I spend about ten hoursa day sleeping: Pretty nice, isn’t it? P.S.S. How’s Gerald’s musiCal career progressing? Is he a Paderewski yet? January 15, 1918 Dear Joe, Received your letter.of December 2~th two days ago and Paul’s of December ~th yesterday. Some difference, isn’t it?

Love, War, and ~ediclne


As usual was very glad to hear from both of you. You say Ed came home Xmas for four days. I suppose he had one good time. I hear from him very rarely,- I’ve had about four letters from him since he went to Camp Grant. From what you write of society, you are a busy man with all these parties, theatres, engagement receptions and weddings. The war seems to have stimulated ~aster Cupid a bit. Who knows before long the three of us may be pierced by arrows from his bow? (Here’s hoping:) So you sent Dr. Barnett a box of cigars. I Just got a letter from him yesterday. He didn’t mention the gift, so guess it hadn’t come yet. Did I ever tell you I received a nice parcel of cakes and candy from Mrs. Barnett for Xmas? It was very nice of her. Paul wants to know if I, like members in some ambulance corps, need serve only six months. Tell him I’m not in the ambulance corps; I’m signed up for five years. and can’t resign in times of war. But when war is over, I go back to the inactive list until th’e five years are up. E].ght months are up already. Only four and onethird years more. Nothing to do till tomorrow. There’s not much news. Having a peaceful time. It’s warm outside and pouring cats and dogs. The roads are a sea of mud and the trenches are awful. But my dugout is very good and is clean and dry and warm. There’s very little fighting going on,- practically none, though once in a while a shell comes over. We’re in a new sector, not very far from the one we were in before. Don’t mentloh at home that I’m back in the line. There is another "American doctor nearby, a nice fellow from Virginia. He’s been in England about four months and has only lately come out to France. I visited him this morning. My batman has just brought in some water and I’m going to do my acrobatic stunt in a 3-foot wide rubber bathtub. With lots of love, Affect ionat e ly,

Letter #~ Wednesday, Januar~j 16 my dearest girl, Tis 5:15 P.M. The mail is due any minute and this letter is to be collected at the same time as mail comes. So this letter will probably be short. Haven’t anything exciting to write about except the weather - that isn’t exciting either - it’s beastly. It started to rain night before last and it’s still pouring.

Love, War, and Medicine


The roads are a nice liquid mud up over your ankles while the trenches are full of the s$1cky variety, tQ you~ knees in most places. You get stuck on the slightest provocation. If you walk 100 yards through the trenches, you’re all out of breath just as though yo.u’d run a m~.le in ordinary cond~.t~ons. You cou].d net a ~Ine assortment of mud pies out here. Fortunately, it’s warm. All signs of snow have disappeared. Am writing this in my dugout deep i~ the earth. Tea is Just over and the mess orderlies are clearing off the table. It is very peaceful all around here and only occasionally do you even hear a shot. I Just finished a book that I enjoyed very much. It’s ’The Duke’s Motto’ by Justin ~cCarthy, author of ’If I Were King’ and iz just about as good as the latter. It’s about France and.castles and wayside inns and I probably appreciate it more since I’ve come over here. Have very little to do at present. No wounded, and only a few sic~ a day and inspections of sanitation. Have a good deal of spare time, but have nothing to do during that time except write letters and read and eat that’s my long suit. I’~ there like a duck at all meals. I wish I had my mandolin here to while away some time; it and my excess kit are at a village many miles away, but I expect them any day now. The advanced dressing station (run by the field ambulance) is just across the road from my aid post. There are two doctors there, a Scotchman with a broad accent he rolls his ’r’s’ most delightfully; and a fine-looking American by the name of Tipton. He’s from Virginia and has the typical southern accent. He’s been in the regular army three years, resigned, and now has been recalled to active service. Has been in England six months doing special work and this is his first experience at the front. I llke him as he’s clean in every way - a typical American. It’s very nice to run across Americans out here as you see so few in our sector. A little interruption,--Just sent a man to the hospital - diagnosis is F.U.0. (Pyrexia Fever Unknown 0rlgln)--equivalent to Trench Fever and about the same as LaGrlppe. He was fairly sick. The hospital as I said above is Just across the road. From there he goes by motor "ambulance to the main field ambulance station and from there back to the casualty clearing station. AfteP that, he may come back to us or go still further back. Had a most pleasant dream last .night - I seldom dream, so it’s a rarity to have one,- I dreamed that the war was over and that we were entering New York harbor on our return voyage. There were hundreds of our transports, all loaded to capacity. We neared the docks. I stood at the forward end of the boat and looked among the many thousands

Love, War, and ~edicine


gathered to greet us for the one girl in the world. At last you recognized me and waved youm handkerchief found you. There was a fearful crush geSting off the boat, but at last I had you in my arms. It was heavenly,the culmination of the happiness of a lifetime. The dream - for alas! - it was but a dream, came to an abrupt end when my batman sald--~ his customary way: ’Sir, it’s time to get up.’ I could have killed him, but what’s the use? It was a most realistic affair to me and my only hope is that it should soon~ come true. What say Are you, too, sorry ’twas but a dream? I know you are, for I know you are true to me and that you love me Just as I adore and worship you. Wher~ I come to th]~k about It, it’s most wonderful the way fate has thrown us together’, and even more marvelous that you and I, fro~ being ~re cousins, should now be on a new and much more precious footing. I had previously met many girls and been good friends with some. Some were beautiful, some intelligent, some very kind and thoughtful, some eve~ comb~ed two or more of these traits. But never, till I met you, have I ever known any glrl who possessed all of these to the highest possible degree. And you are good and kind and ~hou~.htful and intelligent, as I know. I’m very glad you’re nob the chorus-girl type of a beauty - your beauty is not only of the physical, but also of the soul. And, believe me, Nina dearest, do not flatter you. I only want you to know why I love you so strongly an~ why I am yours to command, to fashion as you will. Only let me know what I can do for you and it shall be done if it’s in my power. For I love you dearly with all my heart. Love is a strange thing, isn’t it, dearest? You go along your calm life meeting people of both sexes. You think love exists only in novels and plays and in the movies. You’ve never had even a tingle of real love when suddenly or gradually you succumb even as though you were a character in a novel or play or movie. And then you first begin to appreciate that life is worth living; that life is more than eating and drinking and sleeping and working and playing. And now I w.ant you, and want you badly, to complete my happiness and to make ’ life tell its full meaning. Nlna, you can’t realize how I long for you. Out here it’s men, men, men - all day long. Even the five weeks we spent in civilization was but little better as far as I’m concerned, for the few women I. met I hardly more than spoke to, to be sociable. And now we’re back in the line and it will be more men and more men. I’m tired of this bachelor life, of this constant association with persons of my own sex. I want a girl for my companion, one who will think of me and whom I’ll think of, one who will be my chum, and in whom I can confide and who will confide

Love, War, and Medic

in me, and one who will love me with all her heart and whom I will love in return. And you are the answer to all this, for I miss you sadly. Nay God speed the end of this war and the time when you and I will be together onoe more. And I know you, too, pray with me that all this may come true. Nina, there’S no sign of any mail. Perhaps there won’t be any today. At any rate, I’ll close with my utmost devotion to you and my" very best regards to yo~1~ family and Stella. Yours always, Lee P.S. Mail Just came - a nice letter from you. of December 24th (will answer later), one from my brother Paul, a draft for 126 francs from British Government (my monthly field allowance) and Every Week and Sunday Times Pictorial from you (thank you once more). A good mailL ’Au revoir! ’ January 17, 1918 My dearest little Boy~Do you mind my writing you again today? I won’t mail it until tomorrow anyway, but at present I am particularly blue. Can you guess the reason? Last evening after leaving the office I rushed into the house like a madwoman, and asked for a letter from you, but none was forthcoming. All I got was an acknowledgment of a condolence letter I had written several days ago. I wonder if it affects you the same way when you don’t get mail? I get grouchy with myself, and don’t want to talk. It is something entirely new with me, and I am trying real hard to overcome it, but as yet it gets me, though I hope before long to GET IT. All of which means, that I shall try to master such disappointments over which neither of us has control. Have you read in the newspapers that we are to have an industrial and business holiday every Monday for nine consecutive Mondays, in order to conserve, coal? That is, all business houses, offices, schools, stores (excerpting grocery and drug stores), theatres, etc., are to be closed from Saturday until Tuesday. All factoric.s excepting those essential (munition and other military supplies) and all offices excepting Administratlve offices, will be closed. It is a very serious problem, and officials hope to solve the coal situation in this way. There is also a bill which has passed Senate to push the clock one hour .ahead. This bill is now before the House Committee and will probably be acted upon before very long.

Love, War, and ~ledlclne


Anot2~r bill w~Ich i~ now bel’o~.e the House, and which will probably interest you, is that all boys must register as soon as they reach the age of twenty-one. This, it seems to me, is quite just, as it will give us a larger army, and is a fair and impartial arrangement. Last evening Stalls and ! took a long walk, and as you can well im~,gine, you were the main topic of conversation. ~°,~hy do I talk of you so often? Because I love you and can’t think of anything or anybody else. Therefore, you ace the most agreeable subject, to discuss. Do you mind? You can rest e~ssured, dear, it is always in your favor, and lira sure you would be much pleased if you could hear what we say. Of course, it would no$ be wise to repeat our con~’rsat!ons to you, as you might think we flatter, oz. wh~t is .~ar worse, you might burst with conceit. Therefore, though your modesty is one of your main assets, and you are entirely lacking in concelt, I shall say no ~ore about last evening. ~ust stop now, and get back to work. With all my love and many kisses, Yours always, Nina Thursday, January 17 Another rainy day, but Corporal ~cVelgh and I w~Iked up to the stone quarry - our caw a~_d post. All the dugouts are located deep in huge blocks ef stone and chalk. Have an upper berth in a warm room. The Boche shelled us all day. I have two more officers in our mess, a French liaison offleer and 2rid Lieutenant Reese from artillery, both very Jolly. The next morn.~_ng I was a~akened by a severe barrage the Boche were trying in vain to raid a French post on our right; we gave them ~l~~ty .~ :-.~,turr~. Three o~" our men were wounded and one was killed; planes kept buzzing over us. Did manage to play some bridge later with our Commanding Officer (C.O.), Captain Renwlck and Lieutenant Reese. The next day the Boche shelled us again with much ~h~apnel, trench mortars and minnies plus another unsuccessful

Love, War, and Medicine


raid on the French post on our right. Another bridge game later with Renwick, Taylor and Branfo~d. Letter #8 Sunday, January 20 My own girl, A glorious day: 12:30 P.~. and the sun is overhead and shining brightly. It is. almost warm enough fo~ going around in yo~uc shirt sleeves. The ground is drying up rapidly. And it is almost as peaceful as a quiet Sunday morning at home. As we’re still in the front line, no church parade today, though really it’s so beautiful out you sort of wish there was one even though not of our faith. Haven’t been to church for so long I guess I’ll be a regular heathen when I get back. Will you help me get back to normal when I see you again? All kinds of wild rumors are floating about concerning an early peace. Some assert positively there’ll be peace inside of a few months; others are Just as certain the war has hardly started. Still, we always like to believe these peace rumors, though most of them have no basis whatever. Am writing this in my dugout. My laundry is hanging all around me drying out as my batman has put in a busy day doing my washing. I pay him five francs a week and my groom fifteen francs a month for taking care of my horse. Of course, this is extra, as they also get their army pay. Was much disappointed in the mall last night. I received a medical Journal and a couple of newspapers, but ’ no letters. Though it’s only four days since I heard from you, it seems much longer. Nothing delights me , more than a letter from the dearest glrl in the wo~ld. And please don’t forget to send me your photo. Just came back from a half mile stroll across country and down trenches. I went to inspect a well there and brought back two quarts of water to test to see if fit for d~inklng purposes. I enjoyed the walk immensely, even though I had to wear a steel helmet and have my gas mask in the alert position. Those two articles are Indispensable when in the trenches. Just now comes the signal that a Boche plane is overhead. On that signal we all get under cover so that the German should not dlscovor our looat~on, for if h~ did b~ might take it into his head to become nasty and make it hot fo~ us by co~nunicat!on with his artillery. But he is pretty low, so our Lewis gunners are giving him some iron rations and the° pop-pop-pop is steady. However, a machine gunner rarely is able to bring down an aeroplane.

Love, War, and Medicine

’ 217

And now comes the ’All Clear’ signal and the men emerge from undercover and once more resume their ocoupation,- of doing nothing or but little, that is in daytime. You can’t do much work in the llne in daytime as you’re too easily seen, but at night the men are hauled out to do whatever work is necessary, such as repairing the barbed wire which lines the front of the trenches and offers the chle2 obstacle to raiders. The main obJect of raiders, of course, is to capture prisoners and so identify the battalion which opposes them. The Boche do it and we do it. Raiding is an adventurous proposition, but it is fascinating work as it demands the highest degree of skill and bravery and it is real war, as war was supposed to’be fought before the pr--~nt struggle. As it is now, this war is so scientific the human element is much less important than in previous wars. The artillery, the aeroplanes, the telegraph and telephone, the camera, the bombs, t~Ge gas and other modern inventions have so revolutionized the war that it’s no longer human,- it ’ s inhuman. Later: 3:30 P.~. Had lunch and then went out to the front llne to look around sanitation a bit. Made a peaceful and uneventful tour and am now back once more in my dugout. Have written you almost every day this past week and know you won’t mind. i only hope you az’e doing the same 3,000 miles away. It’ only we could oommunlca~e faste~ it wouldn’t be so bad to be separated, but as it is I’m always as anxious about you as you no doubt are about me. Still, we,ll appreciate being together once more, the more since we’ve been so long separated. Just think, tomorrow will be se~en months since I came to New York,the time has certainly flown quickly. Yesterday was the end of my fifth consecutive month at the front. I don’t know ~ust how it happens, but every night when I crawl into my sleeping bag, I close my eyes and think and think about you. I wonder what you are doing and how you are, and, at times, I can hardly resist holding out my arms in a vain effort to draw you down to me and kiss me. Night time is the time I miss you the most, I suppose because I’m kept fairly bus~y in the daytime. And I surely do miss you and pray for an early peace-and my speedy return to you. Speed that day and may God keep you safe. And at the end of these periods of deep thought when sleep lurks near me, your sweet face shines before me and my love for you is supreme. ¯ You seem to look down at me and bid me sleep in peace. And sleep comes. Nina darling, I’m desperately in love with you and I den’t want to be cured. Your s f ore ve r, Lee

Love, War, and Medicine


Letter #9 Monday, January 21 Dearest Darling, Good news: This morning the adjutant of the battalion handed me my leave warrant. I’m granted fourteen days in Paris, from January 23rd to February 6th. I’ll leave for Paris tomorrow and will get there the same night, I expect. I’ve already telegraphed A1 Barnett to meet me at the University Club, the old Palais Royale Hotel, Paris. Will write you more about the trip as we go along. My only regret is that during my absence your letters will be lying unopened at the battalion; but even that won’t be so bad as I’ll put in some delightful time reading them when I rejoin my unit. Th~ nice weather of the last few days has been replaced by a steady drizzle and a dismal day. But it ts still so warm an overcoat is useless. Just got done testing some water I drew yesterday out of a well nearby. It’s a simple test using starch, iodine and bleaching powder. The water was good and required only one-half measure o17 chloride of lime to the water cart (llO gallons),- thab’s a small amount. Chemistry has always appealed to me, especially that dealing with dyes, etc. I suppose you saw in the papers about a week ago how the British got hold of 257 secret German dye recipes. That discovery means about $1,000,000,000 a year to Great Britain, I’m told. I can’t leave until my relief has come. He’s due any time today. As soon as he comes, I go. The scene has shifted, gy relief came about 4:00 N. and at 5:00 P.M. I was on my way back from the front line to the quartermaster’s stores where I am now. It took me five hours of good hard walking through mud and slush to get here, but I got a lift on an artillery wagon part of the way, so it wasn’t so bad. I’m many miles behi:Id the line now. Tomorrow a wagon is going to call for me at 4:45 A.M. to take me to a neighboring large town where I can get a train for Amiens and from there to Paris. M6re later. Must get some sleep. With much love and pleasant dreams. Your own Lee January~ 21st, 1918. My dearest Soldier Boy:My, but I do love yo~. Oh~ boy, if we could only spend a couple of hours together~ No, I wouldn’t yell

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if you should squeeze a little too hard. I might be induced to scold you, Just so that you could kiss me again. But, alas, dearest~, that will have to be postponed initely. However, there is consolation in knowing that there is so much joy awaiting both of us, and that when the sto~’m clouds have pas~ed, t~ sun will again shine brighter than ever, because, we will have each other. It is hard for me to strike the keys this morning, as there is no heat in the building, and I am trying to work with my coat on, under-which I have a heavy dress and sweater. MY feet are llke ~ce, and my hands are Just as bad. Do hope the steam will come up sometime this morning, as it is difficult to think when one is so cold. As long as the.stock exchange is open we will have to work, so that there is no possible chance of leaving here until after ~ o’clock. If this is the sort of thing we will have to put up with for the next nine or ten ~ondays, it will be awful. To me it is ridiculous that the exchange should be open and the buildings left without heat, as we must work when they do. We are all willing to make sacrifices, but this borders on cruelty. Your wonderful letters of December 20th, 25th and 26th as well as postals of the ~2nd and 30th have Just been received. I love every word of them, dear. And, r~ow, my dear, I want to thank you for your Christmas gift. It is beautiful, and in splendid taste. Should you have asked me what I liked, I should have made Just that selection. I wore it last evening, and tb~ set was very ~.uch admired by all. Your thoughtfulness of me is the ~]urest sign of your love. Your Christmas Dinner sounds good, and I should have liked to hear the speeches. Also, kind sir, would you mind telling me ’where’ you showed the old lady how to massage her knees with the liniment? All at home send their kindest regards, With many kisses and hugs, I shall always be, dearest, Yours lovingly, Nina.

Love, War, and Medicine

CHAPTER XI ON I~AVE TO PARIS On Monday, January 21st, I received my notice permitting me to go on leave. I was relieved of my medical duties by Captain Underhill of the 109th Field Artillery; and I wasted no time but ieft next morning, the 22nd. Was up at ~:30 A.M., and by horse and the moss cart reached the town of Ham, then by train to Amiens and cashed a check for ~00 francs. At 12:30 P.M. I left by train and at 4:1~ P.~. was in Paris - know~ as the most beautiful and most w~ed (.?)city in the world. When I came out of the Gate du Nord (the station), I came across an American YM~CA worker and he put me right as to where to go. I walked to the entrance to the Metropolitan Subway, went down so~e steps, coughed up about five sous (a nickel) for a ticket to the station Palais Royale and got on t~e train. The train was crowded - standing room only - Just like at home. The subway system in Paris, as in London, is simply wonderful. I changed trains at Chatelet Station, then reached Palais Royale qdickly.


Love, War, and Medicine


I came out on the streets and crossed a square and reached my hotel,- "The American University Union (fo~me~,ly the Royal Palace Hotel)". It ~wSs very ni~e~ hhe~-e and exclusive in that only American college men we2e allowed. I ha~ a pretty decent room for’only five francs a day (about Plenty of hot and cold water, baths, and good food. Eats cost about twelve to fifteen francs a day ($2-$3), and were excellent. Woke up at I0:00 A.~. (sheer luxury) and after breakfast walked down the" Rue de Rivoll to the Place de la Concorde and back. Supper at Dural that night, then a show at the "Opera Comlque." A wonderful day. The next day again up at ~_0:30, followed by a delightful walk along the Champs ElysSes to the L’Arc de Trlomphe. Office January 23, 1918 My own dear Boy Wish I could kiss you ’Good }~orning’ because then I wouldn’t mind working today. This is one of the days when m~T mind isn’t on my duties as a ’paid employee,’ but rather with you, my dear. Yesterday morning I received your most welcome letter of December 31, 1917. Isn’t it strange, dear, that we should both have preferred each other’s company on that last night of the old year, and that though our surroundings were so entirely dlffe~ent (with 3,000 miles between us) we spent the evening togeSher, in spirit. Thank you, Lee, for letting me read part of your 1917 diary. It is most interesting. I sincerely hope that our 1918 diaries will be read together. However, I have an advantage over you. Min~ is written in shorthand, so tha~ unless you agree to sit close by my side, and hold my hands (at least one of them) Ishall refuse to enllghteon you. Of course, you may put your head close to mine. I won’t mind. In fact llke it that way best.

Love, War, and Medicine


Oh, dear, ! love you so much that it is hard to think of anything but you. Dearest, this is all for today. My next will probably be longer. I love you more than I can tell you, and will always be Your own Nina.

January 12
Dear Folks, Am so busy seeing Paris on my fourteen days’ leave of absence hardly find time to write. Am having a. grand time, I can tell you. My first night in Paris I went to th~ Casino Theatre to see Oaby Deslys and Harry Pilcer in a French revue. It was great,- about fifty different scenes,much llke the old Ziegfeld Folliers. About threefourths of the show was in French, but I got along pretty well. And, Oh Boy! When the Jazz band (violin, two guitars and saxophone) opened up in the lobby between acts, and once more, after an interval of eight months, I heard ’Poor Butterfly,’ ’Nights of Gladness,’ ’Honkey-Tonky’ and 6thor old favorltes, my feel positively refused to behave and I simply bubbled over with enthusiasm. I could hardly keep from starting to dance, I was that joyous. The Casino is the most beautiful theatre ! ever saw--simply gorgeous. And the audience was brilliant; the women were tastily dressed, *~hough not in evening costame; and the men were practically all in u~Iform. And such a variety there were Americans, English, Scotch, Irish, Welsh, Canadians, Australians, New Zealanders, French, Belgians, Itallans~ Morocc~ns, Serbians and Roumanlans - perhaps others. And the uniforms were bewildering as some wore dress uniforms, some field ones; some army, some navy. And Red Cross and Y.?~..C.A. workers and ambulance drivers helped to make up a most varied appearance. And I believe there were more Americans there than any other nationality, except, of course, the. l~rench. Night before last I went, along with a Lieutenant Thels (United States Signal Corps), to see a fine opera called Mireille at the beautiful Opera Comlque. The music was good, and though I didn’t understand what they sang, still I enjoyed it.

Love, War, and Medicine


Last night Professor Vibbard of the University of Michigan, who is one of th~ directors of this hotel, took a few of us out to a private musicale in a nice French home. Piano, violin and singing. Enjoyed it, especially as I met one of the daughters, a trim little lady who could warble a little English so we could understand each oSher a bit. We have spent the daytime promenading, chiefly. Yesterday we walked dow, n the most lovely of all streets, the Aveoue des Champs Elys~es which extends from the remarkable Arc de Triomphe, erected by Napoleon, to the wide Place de la Concorde, a distance of about a mile. It is a very wide street and is to Paris what Grand Boulevard is to the Chicago South Side,- the promenading region. And, truly, the girls of Paris are positively charming. They all are ~o neatly attired, too, even though there’s a war on. My companion, Lieutenant Theis, of Michigan, several times remarked when we passed the~e lovely examples of the better sex, ’Why, oh, why: d,~d I get married before I had seen Paris?’ That shows how beautiful Parisian girls are. However, I’m bulletproof against them, so don’t worry. You" know the old phrase: ’Wine,~ women and song’ - I omit the wine and women and am strong for the song. As I write this (I’m in the writing room of the hotel) one of the American soldiers is playing violin and playing most excellently. He has finished ’Humoresque’ and some others as well known and is now playing ’~editation of Thals.’ The audience of Americans,- they are all A~ericans here,- is most apprec iat ive. I Was supposed to meet AI Baroett, but he hasn’t shown up yet. Telegraphed him this morning, and, if he can’t come, Lieutenant Thei~ and I will leave in the morning for Lyons, then make short stays at Marseilles, Toulon, Nice, ~onte Carlo, Bordeaux and Orleans and back to Paris. And then back to duty. I have twelve days more of pleasure and idleness. If I write infrequently on this vacation, please don~t blame me,- there’s so much to see and so little time. I’ll drop cards, at any rate. My love to all at home. Affect ionat ely,

Friday, January 25 Was another nice day - with visits to the Tomb of Napoleon, Eiffel Tower and ~he Trocadero. In the evening

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Foll~win~ Pa~e 223

PARIS - Famous Scenes on my first visit to Paris in January, 1918, during World War

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Following Page 223

PARIS - Famous Scenes on my first visit to Paris in Janaary, 1918, during World War

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a visit to a private home in Paris along with a professor and some American officers. Still waiting for Dr. Barnett, my old buddy from Cook County Hospital. He was supposed to be wlth me.

Paris, January 25th Letter #I0 My dearest Nina, Please forgive me for not writing you for four days, but I’ve been busy slght-seeing. I last wrote you, on the 21st, from the Quakermaster’s dwelling back of the line which I had reached after !’d walked there from the trenches. Last night a professor of University of Michigan took a few of us to a private musicale in a I~rench home. It was very hlgh-brow stuff and I enjoyed it only falrl~’~ well, as I’m not keen for that kind of entertainment. There was a lady there looking ’era over through a lorgnette and when she eyed me in her general critical survey, I could hardly resist getting up and giving her a shaking. Promise me you’ll never use a lorgnette - I hate it - it’s positively offensive. Gee, N!na, I wish you were here with me. You and I could have a great t!me~ let me tell you. I certainly miss you very much. It is true there ar~e plenty of girls here and most of them are remarkably pretty and attractive. It is twelve noon and I’m going out for a stroll along the Rue de Rivol~ where the dainty shops with b~ic-a-b.rac, etc. are loo~ted. So will close with very ~’ondest of love to the only girl in the world for me. With loads of love

and hugs and kisses, Yours only

P.S. Womon smoki~g l.n [~ubllc - so ] said to mysel£ they must be ’naughty women.’ I should add that when the Jazz band played in the lobby, I saw several French women smoking cigarettes,- first time I ever saw that.

Love, War, and Medicine


Saturday, January 26 A fine day. In the afternoon a poor show at the "F.~i~e~s.-Berg~re~’ plus long walks. That evening visited a French major at his home and arrived back at the hotel and there was Lieutenant A1 Barnett’ A nice reunion and we talked till ~00 A.M. The next day more walking plus a musical show at th~ Trianon-Lyrique Theatre. Tuesday, January 29th That night we thoroughly enjoyed "Guillaume Tell" at the Paris Grand Opera House. It was a great play and the Opera House was the most beautiful one I ever saw; the foyer was especially magnificent. The next day Al and I visited Versailles and its palace and grounds,- very lovely. While at Versailles an incident happened to us which seemed at the time to be amusing~ but which could have been serious. It involved the practice of salutiug. Barnett and_ I were in our American uniforms, both lieutenants; we were supposed to salute other lieutenants of whatever allied country, and, of course, all superior officers from captain up. We kept on saluting, but with some difficulties. Once saluted a Britisher who had four rows of ribbons; he did not return my salute, as he turned out to be only a sergeant major (noncommissioned officer). At Versailles alor~g came a man in a beautiful blue uniform adorned by gold. braids on his shoulders plus

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~old braid on his cap, along with a monocle over one eye. Both Barnett and I assumed that he was some sort of a doorman at a Paris hotel. He looked rIMht at us, but we did no__~t salute him. He passed by and entered a small dwelling on the grounds; the French guard saluted him. I was c.urlous so I asked this ~renchman, in my best French, who he was. It turned out that he was an Admiral, head of the whole British Navy. Of course, A1 and I were quite chag~$ned, but, fortunately, no harm came to us. Letter #ll Sunday, January 27 My dearest Nina, Another glorious day. And how much nicer if I could ~-mve had you and Stella here, but A1 Barnett is here at last. Yea, verily, even though you and I could have had one H--- of a good time in this town. Yes, A1 pulled in last night and it was ~:00 A.M. before we fell asleep, as we had much to tell one another after an absence of eight months. Each of us had his experiences to tell the other, and it was a grand reunion, I even drank, a glass of port wine to help celebrate the reunion. I’m a devil: The sun was shining brightly as A1 and I promenaded dgwn t, he Rue de Rivo!i and along the Avenue des Champs Elysees. And all Paris seemed to be out. It was a grand walk and we thoroughly enjoyed it, though how much nicer it would have been were you with us. Yesterday afternoon we attended a revue at the Folles-Berg~re, - it was the worst and most uninteresting show I ever saw and that’s saying a good deal. There were a couple of Amex.zcan dancers,- thei~ act was the only good one on the bill. Last night Professor Vibbard of the University of Michigan took a few of us to attend a reception at a French Commandant’s (Major’s) home. There was a big crowd there and we were quickly made to feel at home. We played games Just as in olden d~ys and even played ’wink,’ without the good part. The French girls in these high-class families are very much restricted in their amusements. Thc~9 seldom see a movie, rarely a musical comedy like the ’Folies; they do see operas;

Love, War, and ~edlcSne


they attend these as a substitute for what American girls demand (and get). Of course, some lower class French girls go everywhere,- in fact, many seem to have no modesty at all. Have a wonderful room here. AI is sleeping on one of the two beds. The room is large and has a private bath attached, and, believe me, I make use of it. It is truly luxurious and all for sixteen francs for the two of us per day - about $1.60 a day apiece,- dirt cheap, I can tell you. A young man I invited to dinner is due and I must close. All my love to you, dearest girl, and kindest regards to your family and Stella. Yours only, Lee P.S. My Darling girl, before I close I must tell you I have been experimenting on myself. I have been trying to examine myself carefully to see if I love you as much now while I’m in busy and glrl-populated Paris as I did while I was in the lonesome war area. And I~m truly glad to say I love you more than ever. The more pretty girls I see here, the better I llke the only girl in the world for me. Every girl I meet I mentally contrast with you, and so far I have not met a single one who compared to you, though I’ve met some from the finest families in France. So I am sure that my love for you is true, as true as true can be. And I hope some day to get from you permission to let me prove that. Do you think you will grant that? And now, in turn, I mu.~t question you. You say you love me very dearly, and that makes me happy. But have you tested your love toward me? Do you love me because I wear Uncle Sam’s uniform and am here in France? Are you sure you haven’t acquired a bit of the girlish effervescence over soldiers? Or do you really love me and not my uniform? Think, Nina, will you love me Just as much when the war is over and I’m back writing prescriptions (if I get any to write) as you do now when I’m in the service? I anxiously await your r~ply. ~eanwhile, here’s a real long kiss and a strenuous hug and a b~art full of love. Lee Letter #1’2 January 31st My Dearest, Although it is about ll:00 P.~., it is never too late to write to you, eyen though I~m still on vacation. I’m in my bedroom sitting on my bed composing this. A1 is down in the reception room of the hotel conversing

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with some of the other boys. But, personally, I prefer to Wswap talk’ with my lovely ’cousin.’ As you are probably at this moment reading about last night’s air raid on Paris, I’ll at once put your mind at rest by saying that A1 and I are O.K. The air raid occurred about midnight. A1 and I had Just finished undressing and getting into bed when we heard the prolonged ~hist!ing of the siren and knew we were in for some more excitement. We didn’t know whether to dress again or not. Finally we decided to stick in our room (fourth floor of a four-story building). In about fifteen minutes bombs began to drop around, though none closer than one-half a mile. Still, ’twas close enough. We heard about thirty or forty bombs, then fell asleep and did not hear the All Cloar signal. This morning we got up at about ten, or, rather, we had breakfast in bed (some class to us~) After lunch we strolled out and found two places in Paris where bombs had fallen. On the whole, we didn’t see much damage. We’re still painting Paris ’red.’ We don’t seem to have a minute to spare. The night before last, A1 and I went to the Grand Opera House and saw a great opera: - ’Guillaume Tell’ the music was most excellent. And, Nina, I’ve seen some beautiful theatres, but the Paris Opera House has them all skinned a mile. It’s ma~nlficent, especially the large foyer which has waxed floors, carved ceiling, oll paintings, large crystal electric light fixtures, fine porch, etc. The women at operas here are not permitted to wear evening costumes since the war began; personally, I don’t think there’s much economy in that rule as their evening costumes are so low cut,- surely a saving. Yesterday A1 and I ~ook a trip out to Versailles. This, as you know, is a famous sub~rb of Paris. We went through a part of the royal palace and saw some wonderful paintings, furniture, etc. We saw the bed Napoleon slept in. The battle hall is magnificent,a large wide room whose walls are covered by paintings of the most famous battles in French history, especially those llke Austerlitz and Jena. One of the finest of these, the one I naturally liked the best, was a picture of Washington and Rochambeau receiving the surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown. We also saw the palace of Marie Antoinette,- a smaller and daintier palace. The grounds there are excellent and, even though it is winter, I was duly impressed. It must be wonderful in summer. A1 has just come up and has gotten into bed. I believe he is writing a letter to Stella. This evening I was !~vlted out to dinner to the home of a M. Ledoux, a wealthy mining engineer. I met the

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family a few days ago at a party, and hence the invitation. They llve on the fifth floor of a beautiful apartment house. There is an elevator. The rooms they occupy are luxurious and oh: boy: they certainly handed out some spread. Thick cream soup, a dainty mixture ef French pastry and some sort of fish, roast beef, candied sweet potatoes, pears with whipped cream, cheese, fruits, candies and coffee. After dinner was over, we sat down in the parlor and had a nice conversation. The talk drifted around to universities and the Frenchmen there all agreed they liked the A~!erican system where a boy has a chance to work his way through school,- better than they do in their own ~here this cannot occur. Our wide campaign hats are being abolished and A1 and I bought the new caps for overseas forces. They are something like the French chapeaux and like our airmen’s headgear,- soft hats that you can fold up and put in your pocket. We have maroon bands on ours to denote the medical service. A! only gets seven days leave so we had to abandon our projected trip ’~o Nice. Too bad, but we can’t complain as we’re havlz~g such a grand time in Paris. But oh: Nina girl, I wish you were here. There’s so much you’d like that I’m afraid wouldn’t be strong enough to drag you away when it came time to pack up. There’s a fine shop whicl~ exhibits most dainty articles I’m absolutely positive you’d insist on seeing. Had my picture taken the other day and when they’re finished will mail you one. And, please, dear, if you haven’t done so already, ~lail ~le a large one of yours. Did I te~?~ you that in the trenches ! was in a group picture taken there - a French lieutenant, a British 2nd lieutenant and I - the ’Entente Cordiale.’ Am enclosing a sa~ple of transportation tickets. The subway here is very simple and I have no difficulty in getting around. ~i~ French is poor, but I always find my way about. ~ell, dearest girl, it’s midnight now and time for some sleep. So good night and pleasant dreams. Hope you dream of me. With a heart full of fondest love and many tokens thereof, I am Your own Lee P.S. Am going to stay in Paris till the fifth, then go up to Boulogne aod visit A1 and then back to my battalion.

Love, War, and ~edicine


January 25, 19-18 My dearest Boy It is Just striking I A.M. Friday morning and I have reached home after spending an evening at Stella’s of which I will tell you later. First may I sit in your lap and write? No please don’t hold me so tight - I can’t write. Yes l’ll kiss you later but not now. Very well, Just one little one. Satisfied? Sorry, dear, but I’m too busy to give you any more kisses until. ! have finished. Boy, but I love y.ou’. Oh, if I had you here now I don’t think I’d ever go to bed. All day I have wanted you, longed for you and was lonesome. At night ! dream of you and I love you always. Isn’t it peculiar how I .have changed? A few months ago I would have been wild about ~.oing to a dinner. Sinoe i low~ you ~o much, ~.~nd know that you love me, I prefer to sit down arid w2i~e you. Good night, doctor soldier boy; I am going to bed happy in the thought that I am in love with the finest man in the world. I shall kiss his picture and then utter a short prayer for him. And, dearest, I must now get off your lap. Thanks, that’s the kind of kiss I like best because it means love for
YOLL~ own

Nina 7:00 A.M. Good morning~ dear:Last evening (this morni.qg to be exact) I went to sleep with the pad under my pillow so that I could say ’Good morning’ to you first. Now I am sitting in bed in blue pa~amas, knees almost touching my chin writing you. If ,V,a should catch me ~he’ll think I~ve gone mad and might have me committed to an institution. It would be hard to convince her that I am sane. In fact, I k~ow I’m not, for am I not ~ in love? Please, doctor, what sh~,.ll I do so as to cure myself? Do I want to be cured you ask? Not unless the doctor so orders and I am a good subordinate - therefore follow instr.uctions. I’m late now, so must hustle. So long, dearest, I with all my heart and caution you to take particularly good care of yourself for do you not belong to Your Nina? January 29, 1918 My dearest little Boy, How can I helo writing you again? This morning I received two splendid letters - January 6 and (Letter No. 2) January 12, also card of January 10. It is so

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nice of you to write me so frequently - bu~ if you didn’t I should feel very badly. Oh, boy, you are dear to me and are becoming more and more necessary to me. But really I am happy in my loneliness - because I am lonely for you. However, much as I love you (and that is more than I have ever loved before) I again repeat that when you find a girl with whom you wish to share your life, I shall step aside and wish y~ou luck. This is not because I love you less - but rather because I love your happine s s more. You surely must have had some march - twenty m~les is Just a little more than I should care to hike at one time. But, dear, at the end of such a march I hope you take every precaution to avoid gettir~ sick. Now that you are in the ’noise’ again - please, dear, don’t go loo~ing for trouble. Of course, I don’t mean to shirk your. duties, but I don’t want anything to happen to you. For my sake, won’t you be careful? Am writing during lunch hour, but must now stop. Shall write you agai2 in the morning and then mail this with it. Before closing must quote the following which amused me and i~m sure will be appreciated by you: ’~y Tuesdays are meatl~ss, ~y Wednesdays are wheatless, I~.m gettZng mo~e eatless each day. M~ home it is heatless, ~y bed it is sheetless, They’re sent to the Y.m.C.A. The barrooms are treatle ss, The coffee is ~weetless, Each day I grow poorer and wiser. l~y stockings a~e footless, ~y trousers are seatless, ~y God, but I do hate the Kaiser:’ ThSre is much truth in the above as you would know if you could see the coal line. The poor in the city are paying a cent a pound for coal, and most of them being dependent upon their wages, miss the Monday’s pay each week. The poor are making their share of sacrifice. Time is up. Please kiss me good-bye. Thanks, I feel better. Yes, I love you - more than that. Hate to break away but must. Another sure Good-bye dear
You~ own


Love, War, and ~edicine


Friday, February I Our usual breakfasts in bed. In the afternoon AI

and I went to the Olympia Theater (pretty poor vaudeville). That night we went to the Gaumont Theater where we watched great movies including one about Charlie Chaplin. The next day we were invited to a tea in our honor. A Mrs. Hyde was the hostess and a Princess Zika was also a guest. On Sunday, February 3rd, Al’s leave of absenoe was over, so ! took him to the. Gate du Nord Railroad Station and we said good-by. Letter #13 Monday, Februar.y .4 My own de are st It’s awfully nice to take a breathing spell in my busy llfe llke to write to you. I can’t say writing to others is much Joy. ~y candle is flickering out for tomorrow I leave Paris. i’ll probably never spend another leave here as I understand that after February l%th no more America~ soldiers will be permitted to come to Paris. I~ve h~d a d~ndy.time here in this beautiful city and am truly glad I ~ame here instead of going to London as I expected to do before A1 Barnett persuaded me that Paris ,~Ja~ much the better place to visit. And it really is. Pari~ put~ London in the shade. Am alone again, as AI left yesterday. His seven days were up so he had to go back. Tomorrow I’m going to visit him at his hospital for a day and thegn I too must go back to my unit. A~ it will take me several days. to rejoin my battalion and as mall from Paris reaches United ~tates much more quickly than from the llne, don~t be alarmed at the delay of seven-fourteen da~ which will p2obably take place before you get my next letter. I’ll write again so~on as I rejoin. I~m very glad I’ll be back soon as I’m truly hungeming to get the letters from you which I know are awaiting You remember the ’Eerry Widow,’ don’t you, dear? And you’ll recall the wonderful scene in it pictured

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Following Page 232

Marshal Joffre, French Army Affectionately called "Papa Joffre" I saw him once in Chicago before United States entered this Great War. Saw him again at the Gaumont Theater in Paris, 1918. (He was idolized by the ~French people.)

Love, Wal., and Medicine


in Maxim’s Restaurant where all the girls gather in fancy costumes and some dance on the tables. Well, AI and I couldn,t leave Paris without visiting Maxim’I. So, a night before last~ we walked over there for dinnet. It isn’t a large ~lace and not nearly so imposing a building as many of the newer cafes. But we had to see Maxim’s. We entered and found ourselves in front of the bar where men and women were drinking away for fare-thee-well. We didn’t stop but went back and took seats at a long table in the center of a fine room finished in gold and decorated with many pictures and mirrors. We ordered some soup, steak, French fried potatoes, peaches, cherries and a half bottle of white wine. For this modest ~epast we coughed up nineteen francs apiece, (about ~I~3.%0) but, then, it was Maxim’s. About three-four waiter~ attended to our simple wants. The food was most excellent~ but we derived more enJoyment watching the ladies than we did from eating. For Maxim~s is the place to meet the fair ones. We were not sitting there five minutes before two charming black-eyed mademoiselles seated themselves, witho~ut invltation# next to us and proceeded to open a conversat~-~n. But they could speak about as much English as we could F~.ench~ ~o the remarks were not very enlightening. But they ~anaged to make us understand we looked good to them and wouldn’t we come with them. BuS we objected to t~c. They also ordered a meal. We ~talled around there for a long time watching the girls go by - every girl there seemed to know every other one. Finally, we called for our bill (l’additlon), as they say in French. The two girls promptly called for theirs and when they got it, they shoved it over to us. But we were stricken blind immediately and failed to see their bill. We rose, paid our own bills, and said good night (’Ben soir~) and then we beat it. ~The two cha~.~ng da~’~ol~ ~’c~ro ~o angry they wouldn’t even return a ’ben soi~:’ Saturday afternoon A1 and I were guests, among other university boys~ at a tea given by Mrs. James Hazen Hyde. Perhaps you’ll recall her husband~ who, some twenty years ago~ I believe, was President of the Equitable Life Insurance Company. He got mixed up in a financial scandal and sinco then I understand that Mrs. H~de has lived in Paris. At any rate, we had a nice time. There we~e several other fashionable American women besides the hostess, in~cludlng a nice looking princess~ When introduced, I didn’t catch her name, but it sounded something llke Princess Zika. She’s from Chicago and married an Aust~ian prince, I believe. All the ladies smoked cigarettes and with great relish. Over here t~y s~Aoke in every place except church,-

Love, War, and Medicine


men and women alike, though, of course, the women probably" do not smoke in public as much as do the men. Before I forget, I sent a brief note to you by a Lieutenant Pollock who leaves today for the United States. He’s a chap I met here at this hotel and he’s about as nice a fellow as I ever ran across. He’s been out here since September 19?J~ as a member o~ the Lafayette Escadrille and has cerualnly seen much of the war. He hasn’t any friends in ~.~ew York and, though I don’t believe he is Jewish, !’d like very much if you or Stella would pilot him about a b~J. He’ll be in the United States about two mouths, I think, then he’ll come back here. Well, Nina dearest, I must close with bushels of love.

Yours ever,


Tuesday, February 5th Up at 7:00 A.N. and took a taxi to the Gate du Nord. Left Paris 9:10 AoM.; our train went to Amiens and Abbeville and on to Etople2 again. ~et A1 Barnett again and he took me to his General ~ospital #18; he was stationed there for his entire stay in France. He did not wander around like I. His hospital was ver~y nice and looked efficient. Met a lot of American doctors. Slept there; but the next night had to be on my way to my unit. Rumors were afloat that the whole British Army was being shaken up~ our battalion may be broken up,- that’s too bad as it is an excellent unit. Came back to find a whole box full of parcels, papers and letters.

Love, War, and Medicine


Letter #i Tue sday, February %, 1918

9: 5 P.M.
My own Soldier Boy So many things rush into my mind as I sit down to write you, that I don’t know what to say first. Yes I do, too. I love you and am loving you more and more. At one time I learned to write ’Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their party’ as a pra~ctice copy for the typewriter. At present I want to write ’i love you’ i~ every form. It seems to sing through my head into my work. To be frank with you, I find it most difficult to concentrate on anything else. It is wonderful. By far the most wonderful thing t~t has eve~. happened to me. Lazt night I received your letter #~ and this morning I received letter #3. They are perfectly wonderful. Dearest, as a man you are in every way my ideal. The one person I can look up to and frown whom ! can learn. God grant that ! may be worthy of you. About a week ago I came into the office and told ~iss ~cKeon about a dream I had had and which was very vivid and realistic. Was not sure whether I was awake or asleep when I dreamed, but w~n I read your letter, I smiled at the similarity. Here it is. You came downtown and walked into my office. I could feel the surprise at seeing you and as AF had left for the day, I opened the door and let you in. Then I felt your arm to make sure. After that I melted in your embrace. We locked the door and took possession of A.F’s. office. Oh, boy, how your kisses burned and we were so content. You explained that you were here on Government business, therefore could not !et me know that you were leaving France. I was so happy that when I awoke I was not sure that I had been asleep. When this war is over, dear, nothing can keep us apart. From the time you ~et foot on the pier I am yours. In the meantime, you can rest assured I am as true to you as any woman ever was to t~ man she loves, and if you know me at all, you know how much you mean to me, and ~Jhat such a s~zaterJ~nt is worth. You, dearest, have paid me the greatest compliment a man can pay a wo~r~n. To be able to resist temptation because of me, is proof conclusive of your will power, and exertion of mind over body. I .am deserving of no credit there, but I am prouder of you than I have ever been. If my influence has had so much weight with you, then I am well repaid for the clean, unstained, llfe I have led, though at times i have asked myself whether it really pays to be good. ~hen these thoughts have

Love, War, and ,Medicine


come to me, however, I always realized how much I loathe vice, vulgarity and glamour, and how I love things pure, wholesome and untarnished. It is only another proof tb~t you are a man to whom I can give myself freely, because I believe in you implicitly. The last paragraph is such as I would hesitate to w~Ite any other man on earth. But, you are the man I love - the only one in the wo~ld for me - therefore I know you understand. In fact ~ I have never written any man such letters as I write~ you, because I have never loved so unselfishly. Perhaps I should have said selfishly - as ~ want you, all of you and you alone. Nothing else counts - just you. N.y dear, my heart yearns for you. Unlike you, I ~m constantly thrown in society of the opposite sex, b~t they have absolutely no effect on me. 1 talk with them, dance with them, go to theatre with them, eat with them, but if anyone dared to kiss me i would probably slap his face. ~y friends, sister, etc. have made numerous unsuccessful attempts to interest me in some eligible male but have always given me up as a bad job. Someti~:es we would have a squabble, but !t had no in£’luen~e eve9 me. Then you came to New York and th~ day you left something within me seemed empty. I wrote you and believe I told you how blue I felt. Since then each day you have meant more and more to me until now you are part of me. Boy, if only you knew how necessary you are to me. With you I share my innermost though-~s and ~ have no secrets from you. You ~peak beautiful~_y about your duties and I’m glad to learn that while you perform your work efficiently (as I kno~v you do) you do not take risks except when duty calls you. Dearest~ let me ~a.y right here before we go any further t~:~.t at no ti~e ~hall I ’command’ you. We will have but one wish and tb~t will be both of ours entwined in one. Neither will command as that would show superiority and we have agreed to be equal. I love you and shall grant your slightest wish, but I can never ~ c ontv~nd ~ you. If only I can meet your opinion of me! But, dearest,. you have placed ~ so h!gh that I shall have to strive hard to be your co.:~pan±on, confidante and chum. ¾y heart beats for you on!y, but I am far from clever and as yet am not sure I will fulfill your visions of your ideal. Yesterday was almost as cold as today. Though it was a heatless ,~onday we went downtown but could not stand the cold so left at noon. May l~cKeon and I had lunch together and then’stopped to see the Yaphank Boys parade. We watched it from the Cathedral steps

Love, V~ar, and ~ediclne


and they were a credit to any nation. Six months ago not one knew anything about soldiering and yesterday they marched down Fifth Avenue like one man - not a whisper, eyes in front, Jaws firmly set, row afte~ row swinging down the avenue. All wore the winter caps and they looked llke a Scotch regiment. They made a splendid showing. Good night, dearest. Have waited many years for the one man whom I could love and now that I b~ve found him, I shall always be Yours only Nina

Love, War, and medicine

CHAPTER XII RETURNED TO ~DICAL DUTY Friday, £ebrua~y~ 8th Back to my sick parade~ at Grand Serancourt with thlrty-flve sick. But very little activity. Letter #1~ Saturday, February 9, 1918 My own dearest girl, . You cer~ainly are. the nicest girl in the world and can’t begin to tell you how ~:uch I love you. And I won’t try Just now, but p.lca~o believe me when I say I1m yours,- do with me as you wish. I surrender to you entirely and beg for the privilege of lovi~4~ you more and more as the time goes cJ~.. And if ever a fellow really ado~ed a girl, I~m t]~at fellow and you’re that girl. By now you’ll have guessed that I’ve received some letters. Yes, and they were some letters- thirteen of them from you greeted me when I rejoined my unit. I’ll never believe after this tha+~ thirteen is anything but lucky for it surely brought great happiness to me. I guess I’m a lucky fellow to ~-~ave a girl llke you think of me so often. And besid~ these most precious letters, I received a nice parcel of chocolate and mints and a lot of magazines from you. And no~~ to these thirteen letters - I know ’tisn’t fair to you to answer all in one letter, but I’ll try ~o make i~ a long one. Fi~o~t of all, I~m aw_~ully glad indeed to hear that all at ho~e are well. From what you and Stella wrote (had t~rree letters from her also - altogether forty-six letters, one postcard, eight p~rcels and about fifty pounds of literature greeted me on my rejoining),- the weather must have been frig~tfully cold in New York, and if only I could have been’there to hold your hands and kiss you again and again as I’m longing to do, I’m sure we wouldn’t have minded the temperature at all. And to think that all the time that United States of

Love, War, and )[edlcine


America has been freezing, I’ve been waz~u,- haven1~ had much use for an overcoat in over a month. It looks llke the winter.Is over in these pasts. In your letters you tell how a~xlously you’ve been awaiting my letter~ - you hadn’~ heard from me in over two weeks.. It can’t be helped, dearest, I write at least twice a week and lately more often than that. suppose the frigid weather in the States has delayed the mail. But I’m sure by now you’re buried undem a very avalanche of mall from me, for this is the teenth letter in about ~ month, besides several postcards. You’ll need a room soon if youlre going to preserve all ~j letters. And, no~, Nina dearest, I’m going to s oold you a bit. Hereafter, I don~t want you to break any engagements for my sake. I don’t want you to sit at home when the inevitable delays fail to bring mall from me. I want you to look your nicest and prettiest and freshest when I come back and thorefor~ I hereby command you to have all the good times you can; go out with any gentlemen you wish and as often as you wish, and please don’t feel that by so doing you’re not true to me. By thoroughly enjoying yourself, you will keep in the best of health and spirits, .~nd al! this will make me love you all the more. So, please, child, have a good time while I’m away,- I know I can trust you as I can assu~e you you can trust me. So, above all, go out frequently and don’t worry about me. I, on my part, promise to get as much decent diversion as I can. That’s a bargain. It,ll be time enough for you to give up othe~ gentlemen when we meet agaln. The food and coal situation in the United States must be pretty bad, according to reports. And today I heard the news about the sinking of the Tuscanla. I only hope my brother Ed w~ not on that boat. must have been a’~ful. Your correspondence card of December 27th in answe~ to mine of December 7th s~uses me. Did you know tha~ I wrote tbmt card during the battle between dressing wounded soldiers? That I wrote it up in the f~ront llne in a Boche dugout, the one I wrot~e you about, the one that received a~ least twenty direc~ hits on top of it? And do you know that was all the stationery I had to write on at that rims? And yet you say you don’t l~ke correspondence cards~ ~ell, neither do I; and then you say you don’t like gilt-edged ones~ especially and ask who-it was sent them. Well, then, I’ll confess ’twas pa~t of a~box of stationery sent me by my aunt, Bert Unger of Chicago. So that’s that. I really believe you were Jealous a bit when you w~ote that caredand I’m glad you were, it shows you love me.

Love, War, and Medicine


Thanks very much for telling me the lights will convenlently go out when I get back,- I long for that Not that I~m fed up with the war, nor tired of Erance; no, I want pea~e euickly, and I want you all for my own as soon thereaft.~ ~ possible. I’m Just aching to see you again, Nina, sweetheart - won’t you come here and let me hug you and kiss you again and again? Won’t you, dearest? If it could only be: No, I don’t mind you writing twice a day if you can spare tho time. But you are forbidden to do so if it means cutting time off your sleep. I won’t have you tired out. I wane you all roses when I return. Yes, dear, as I wrote you I did receive the three packages you sent me .and since then the foumth one. You do not mention receiving the parcel I sent you (also sent one to Stella) on December 20th. So Marie suggested you write to Will Stern of Joliet, Illinois. The nerve of he2~. You ask me what I suggest. I suggest you confine yourself to me in the ’catch’ line~ that is, if you want to. I hope you do. You do, don’t you, Nina dearest? You say you wished something New Year’s Eve and hoped I wish the s~me. You don’t say what you wished, but I do hope it ~as similar to what I did. I remember distinctly i wanted peace.and you,- that was all. Please tell me your dream or wish. By the way, don’t you ever dream or si~ and doze away and sort of half-dream? If you do, won’t you telL. me ~.~’hat you dream about? I’ll be interested. No, I don’t think I~d send Ed a picture if I were you. He~d be apt to fall in love with you as I have, and I~m selfish enough to want you all to myself. Same applies to writing him too frequently. You say my description of my ideal girl does not apply to you, that you’.re not fit to sit on the pedestal of my thoughts. But as they’re my tho~ghts I’ll have to be ~he Judge of tha~. So I tell you, you’re it, you’re my ideal,- no one else. So you’re hereby nominated and elected unanimously,- by me. I~m the whole electoral colleEo. And I mean every word I sa~. You are good-looklnz; you are !intelligent; you are kind and patient and helpful to others; and I know you’re good and ~espec~aole. Of course, ~hen I said ~flirts would not agree with me’ ! did not mean the ordinary social customs of American girls; I merely meant that serious flirtations would be displeasing to me. And Just because you’re not out doing social service work is not implying that you’re .not helpful to others. We can’t all be out doing that kind of work and, as you know, many who do charity serwlces do them for self-exploltation only. So please don’t depreciate yourself - you are the only girl for me.

Love, War, and Medicine


It is true that I receive and answer many letters from other girls, but oh! the difference! These are all old friends from Chicago, chiefly nurses I met while an interne at Cook County Hospital. They are all very nice to me and I would indeed be ungrateful were I to neglect their letters now. When I write to them, I write merely as a friend. When I write you, it’s different. I could never be satisfied to have you merely as a friend or even a cousin. No, you’re reserved for the queenship of my heart. Sorry to hear about the conceited doctor at the dance you went to. There are always fools wherever you go and a conceited person is invariably a fool. Please don’t t~Ink that all college men are like him, for you know they’re not. !~y college friends were among the finest ch~ps I ever met. Just look at the proportion of college men in the service,- why, there’s no other bunch near them, and I’m indeed proud to know that the medical professloz stands first, as ever, in offering its service to Uncle Sam. So Miss ~cKeon receives letters from Major Hardie. You kno’~ _he ’~ no longer with our division, but is back somewhere. Haven’t seen him for over three months. I hope l$~iss .~cl(eon is not taking him too seriously for I’ve since learned from others that he’s engaged to be married. A2 long as it’s only innocent pleasure they derive from their le°tters, I wouldn’t tell her this. But if you think she~ going too far, you’d better. Personally~ from what little I k~ow of h~m, he’s a splendid chap nnd a man any woman oug~ht to feel proud You tell me to discount ninety percent o~ the things Stella ~rote about you,- I won’t. I know she’s a true friend of youths and of mine. And I know she~s tellin~ me the t~:~th. ~o I believe her and could go on a~dZ~g m~ own adjectives to her~. Yes~ I keep w~.rz and as regards socks and sweaters lasting only a week in the trenche~, that’s not true. Besides, I~;m not in the tre:~ches nor do I have to face all the hardships of the To:~ies. At times they do have a pretty rough time, ~hile I’ve had very "little to complain abou~ compa~’ed to what they’re up against. I’ve. more than sufflcient socks, etc. In fact, my kit is too heavy and I’m continually giving stuff away and lightening it So please ~st keep on writing me Th~t~ s all I want while ou~ here. Afterwards - well, that’s a horse of another color. "I warn you I shall demand a great deal of you in the future. You remember the knee ws.~ers you sent me? Haven’t worn them yet and cau’t find a man who’ll take them. They all agree their knees keep warm: Perhaps I’ll find some jock who,ll have cold knees and won’t be

Love, War, and ~edicine


insulted if i give them to him. Who can tell? And even as ! write i hear the bagpipes and Highlanders marching by. You must forgive me my very brief note I wrote you when visiting A1 Barnett ~hree days ago. But only had a minute to spare and merely wanted you to know I was O.K. My last real letter to you was on the fourth. At that time I was still in Paris, though A1 had left the day before. The J~xt ~orning I too left Paris. I passed through Amiens and by 2:30 arrived at A1 Barnett’s hospital. A1 met me at the station. I had a fine time there. I knew al~ost all the doctors and some of the~ nurses a~d they all made me feel right at home. I slept there overnight~ then went to Boulogne (not far away). ! did a little shoppiog and incidentally send ho~.~e a draft of 2,300 francs ($400) to my account. I’m getting richl Then ! went back to Al’s and stayed there till evenlr~. At 10:00 P.~. I got aboard a train and reached Amiens ~t 2:00 A.~. As my next train left at 6:00 A.M., I merely went to the offlcer~’ club in Amiens and t~led to sleep In a ~;~ir for a couple of hours, then had breakfa~t at ~00 A.~. Soo~ I was on the train crawling along toward my ~t~tion. I reached the town, learned where ~y battalion wa~, and started to walk t~ fo~teen kilometers or so ~ I coulCn’t get a llft. (A kilomete~ is ~oou~ ~~,-~-eig~Ls of ~. ~nile I hadn’t walked far w~n along came ~ general~2 Limousine. I didn’t see anyone In~ide, so ~topped the chauffeur and told him to drive me to the medical d~.~~oto~. He consented, though I could see he wondered ~ho the devil I was $o stop a general’s car l_~ ~~. go he drove me in state over [~Ji~eters. I~ll along Tommies and officers of various ranks saluted ~.e~ or r%ther the car, as they nat~ally thought a gsneral was inside. Had they but known ’t~as only a l!eutenant~ I chuckled as we drove along. I reported to the med~.c&l director, then hoofed it tke rest. of the It fine ge~tinE back to ~ battalion f.or they’re all good friend,s of mine ~nd as nice a bunch as you evem saw. You’ve got to hand !t to the Irish for geniality and ~ospit £1it ~. Have been busy ever since fixing up my aid post, holdif~ sick par~.£es and tending to my mail, etc. I’m simply b~ied out of sight by all .the parcels and magazines and letters. I l~ven~t had ti~ yet to even thi~ of replying to anTone but you. You and my folks come first all the time. Tl~ others I’ll answer as soon as possible. It’ll be a long time before I’m caught up. My battalion is in the same sector as when I left. It Is very quiet and !~ve hardly bmard a shot. It’s

Love, War, and Nedlc!ne

nice out today, warm and sunny. Tea is on the table, so excuse me. 5:30 P.~. Tea is ove~ and once more I resume writing to you. It’s Just getting dark now. Candles once more furnish my illumination. Alas and alack! The luxuries of Paris are past. The pleasant walks down the Parisian boulevard~ the theatres, even the breakfasts in bed, all are as but a dream. I surely did enjoy those two ~’eeks, though, for Paris is easily the most beautiful city I ever visited. Yes,. it’s prettier than either New Y~rk or Chicago and has London backed off the map. Even Washington can’t compare with Paris. You see I’m still raving about Paris. I hear you crying ’have a heart, Lee.’ I will, for I’ve lots to do. But before I close, dearest, I want once more to thank you foe your attention to me. I never Oefore realized vJhat it means to have fallen in love. !t~s my first love affair and I’ve fallen hard. The thing I congratulate myself on is that I chose you as my victim and that you enjoy the experience as much as I do, even though our romance to date has been out of the ordinary. Perhaps that’s merely a factor which adds force to our devotion to each other. With many hugs and io~ kisses and all my earnest love to th~ most ~mrling, ~m dearest, and sweetest, and flnes~, and lovelles6, and most wonderful .glrl in all ~he ~emi~eres of this g!obe ii say God bless you and keep you safe and sound till I return. Then I~ll do ~U~t I can to J~elp him keep up the good work. Yours forever, Lee Kindest regards to your mother, Harry, Clarence and ~ Celia, ~or ~ ~e and Oussie and Adele and Stanley, and Mr.-and Mrs. Kraus and Stella, and Miss ~cKeon. Sunday, February i0 An early sick parade~ then off at 9:00 A.N. and marched about ten miles ~,Ith our companies to Martinville. Was off~red a choice of being transferred to tb~ Field Artillery or to a base hospital. I chose the hospital. Found much lack of sanitation and I p~t my men to work taking care of this.

Love, War, and Medicine

Monday, ,February II, 1918 Dear Folks, I’ve been so busy sorting out letters and parcels, periodicals and papel~s have hardly~’had time to look after my battalion. Am Just beginning to get settled down now, ~chouEh as yet haven’t had time to thank those who sent me parcels.. Isn’t it H---to be so popular? Thank you again .for another fine parcel. This warn in a wooden box and contained Gillette blades, batteries, lamps, toothbrush, shaving, cream ~d ~ndolin strings. Now I’m stocked ~o for ma~y months to come. So please send no more till- I tell you. In addltion~ I reueived a swell parcel from Nat and Sarah. i~ contained cakes, playi~ cards, candles, candy, figs, soap, a battery, handkerchiefs, malted milk, raisins, gum and toilet water. Ye Gods Ing to have to have a wa~on for my kit If these presents keep on coming in. Tha~k~ f’o~. the photos oF Pa and Ma and Paul and ~eral.d. ’~’h~,y’~’e ~]. very good, though Paul’s i~ no~hi~g to br’~g ~bo~t. lJu~ h~, ~st l~w~ grown - he look~ li~ a g.i~ on ~I~ ~ctu~.e. l~ve not yet received pho~os I ~d taken in ~’a~s, but will send them when I do. Only had six taken as t~y were ve~ ex~nslve, From wD~t you ~J.nd Ed write, he had a g~and time on his four days vacation Xmas. Only wish I could ~ve been there to help the celebration, e~pecially as Sarah and Evelyn were also t~re. Am glad you’re getting mY letters righ~ along now. I write them as o~ten as I c~~ at least every three days o~. so, ~ometimes more often. From vd’~at Joe writes~ he’s certainly doing the high society stuff - wedding~, ~:~~ies, dances, etc. So~ class to him~ And P~ul~s ~uing to be a regular swimmer. How did he come out in that meet in South Chicago? I notice you za~ Aunt ~-~elen ha~ sent me a sweater. That will ~ake ~u~bcr thre~ - one already from M~s. Horovitz and mo~her and one from Berenice Ladewick. Guess I’ll open up a store. For the love of Mike, don’t send any more knitted goods - the winter’s over out this way, I ~hink. An~how, haven’t had much use f6r an overcoat. ~unny days and we go about as though in spri~. -No, please don~t send any more to eat till I let you know. I.~ve pLent~ and then ~ome. From what ~arie wrote, it’s all off between Ed Clara. Too bad. I ai~:ay~ liked Clara. Guess I’ll have to get married if Ed ~’on~t, and JSe won’t. Whom shall I marry? Am not keen on the French damsels, though they’re beautiful, most of them. Think 1,11 wait till I reach United States of America. Then, believe yo~ Uncle ~e, I’m going to’get me a damsel ’toute de suite’ (French for ’at once’). I’m having all I want of

Love, War, and Medicine


bachelor l~fe out here. So don’t be surprised if I introduce you to ~rs. L. Unge~r soon. I’ve got my eye on one now. Tell you what. l,ll see if you’re good guessers. I’ll give anyone of you three guesses as to who she i~. E~.~en if you ~?..~ess right, ! won’t guarantee to tell you. Have a lot more letter~ to write, so must close. Loads of love to all, including Pa, Me, Joe, Ed, Paul, Gerald, the two g_~and~.~as, Ruth, ~arie, Joe and Eugene. Affe ct ionate ly, Lee

February i0, 1918 My dearest Boy, How I wish you were here now so that I might kiss you. Lookin~ at your~pic ~re used to satisfy me, but what a poo~ sub~tltute an Inanimate thing is. It is cold with a far off look and ~ry as I will to look into the depth ~here i~ no ~at!~factlou, and I cannot reach it. What ! am looking fo~~ ! don’t know, except perhaps to pierce ~ough the unlfo~ and try to read w~t is in the heart. !t i~ aLmo~ l!ke trying to put into words w~at I feel. How poorly 1 express my sentiments. It i~ ~o zuch easier to ~y zone things than write them. At one t!~o I ~ondered ~h~t people wrote about when~ they ~ent letto~n ~ver¥ d~ ~ere I am sendin~ five letto~ in seveu d~ys - ~ ~eco~d breaker. Outside of rel~tlves, I believe, I have never written any man (except one man ~hen I ~s~s Little more than a child) more than five letters altogether. So you see, dear, what a tight g~,Ip you h~,e ~n me. How I enjoy these libtle confessions with you shared Just bet’~,~een us. !t is so nice to have secrets from tbo resZ of t?~e ~orld- so~:ethlng shared by two people only, v~’he~e the he~<~.~s alone talk. !~ the ~,st few <~seks I hays said things to you which I never thought m~elf ::~[oable of saying to any man. !t cc~.~s natural~ too. Just a~ though we were made for each other. Someone with whom I can talk from the depth of my hear~ without the use of my head; someone whom I am proud of as I have never been proud of anyone before, someone ~ho understands me and Is patient with me in ~y ~:oods~ someone whom I can love and who will let me indulge in it to my heart’s content. Life Is beautiful for me n6w. They say all men are babies. If so I have the dearest man-baby in t~ world. I do so want to fondle him and cuddle close to him - to feel him near me - to love him. Do you feel these things ~.~ ! do, dear? Why I almost imagine you here wi~h me, sitting by my side with

Love, War, and Medicine


your arm around my neck and your head on my shoulder. If only the time were here when we could be together always --as I picture you in the above paragraph. Dearest, in my wildest dreams I never thought I would fall in love as deeply as this. To me men were always a ’convenience’ but never a ’necessity.’ At present there is one man absolutely and wholly essential. At last I know that there is one person worth while and I cheerfully submit to the inevitable. I shall try hard to dream of you, dear, though I seldom dream. Today I put your picture (the one with the tin hat on) in my locket. Nobody likes the picture as they say you are so much better looking, but it Just fits in and I want you with me always. Good night dearest. You ought to be very happy in the thought that you have made llfe beautiful for one person on earth and that person is ready to repay you by devoting the rest of her days to you. Yours in body and soul Nina Letter #16 Tuesday, February 12 Dearest Girl, This is Lincoln’s birthday, but they forget to celebrate it out here. So it’s Just like every other day in this region, thoug~h, personally, I know it’s the anniversary of our greatest man. Thank you very much for your nice letter of January 23rd. It arrived day before yesterday, so that it only took eighteen days to reach me. Not bad. Glad you received my letter of New Year’s Eve, the one with part of my diary in it. I think It’s not quite fair your diary being written in shorthand - still, I believe I can trust you to read it to me. Yes, the reading to each other of diaries and letters promises to be the most pleasant period of all. But I insist on being more affectionate than merely holding hands. Since writing you last about five more letters have come and I’m still buried out of sight. I owe everyone letters, including Stella; but I simply can’t find time to answer them as quickly as I’d like to. But I’ll buckle down to work quickly. I wrote my last letter in the village to which I came from Paris. But Sunday (two days ago) we moved to our present location,- another little village several miles back of the line. The march was only about ten miles and we reached here about I:00 P.M. We found ’twas a new camp - nothing here but some bare huts Just completed and plenty of earth around. No furniture--no stoves--nothing. We set to work llke Trojans, every

Love, War,, and Medicine


mother’s son of us, and by nightfall we’d accomplished wonders and had made quite comfortable homes for the men and for ourselves. In our own hut we built five beds for our five officers, a table, two long forms for seats, and put up rows of shelves and plenty of nails for hangin~ clothes. Ittello you army llfe makes you able to adapt yourself almost any environment. So I’m writing you now in our humble little hut. It’s only i0:00 A.M. I have daily sick parades at 7:30 A.M., then eat breakfast at 8:30 or so. Then I look around the sanitation and direct my assistants. Did I ever tell you how many men I’m in charge of while medical officer of a battalion? Well, I have my medical sergeant and corporal who assist me at the daily sick parades. Then there are the water-cart orderly (a corporal) and a man from each company - that’s five more. Then I have a sanitary corporal and two men from each company and one from headquarters - that’s ten more. And lastly I have sixteen stretcher bearers four from each company and sixteen more bearers who serve in battles only. Altogether, therefore, I’m in charge of forty-nine men! 0ountlng my batman makes fifty. Night before last came good news which I know will please you as it pleased me. The chief medical officer of the division called me up on the phone and gave me my choice between going to one of the field ambulances of the division or going to a base hospital. I didn’t hesitate a second. You see, a doctor in a field ambulance sees but little more medical work than a battalion medical officer - and that’s d .... d little. He’s sort of a substitute - when the battalion doctors are sick or on leave, he relieves them, etc. I’ve been gettin~ a bit rusty on medical work lately, so you can imagine how quickly I chose to go to a base hospital where I’ii get to see and do real work, I hope. I can honestly say that the fact that being with a base hospital is less dangerous than with a field ambulance had no influence on my choice, because I’ve escaped so many dangers already that I’ve become thoroughly imbued with the certainty that I’ll come through this war O.K., an~ will return to the nicest girl in the world. From what I gather, I’ii be transferred very quickly - but till I let you know, my old address is all right. ~hen I get transferred, I’ll cable you, if I can. I believe it will be a British hospital, but can’t be sure. Also want to thank you for ’Over There,’ an ’Every Week’ and the pictures in the New York Times. W~en I finish those I always hand them around to the men as they also enjoy them. Fighting is not in evidence these days. Occasionally I hear a shot in the distance, but nothing like it

Love ¯ War, and Medic ins


was. The weather continues sunny and fairly warm overcoats not needed. Nina, darling¯ l’m going to ~ake this letter short as l’ve so ~any left-to write. My kindest regards to all and love and kisses to you. Ever yours, Lee P.S. I love you very dearly.

Letter #5
February 12¯ 1918 My dearest Soldier Boy Have you enjoyed the day - or were you too busy to observe Lincoln’s Birthday? This has been a very unusual holiday as all the theatres and places of amuse~ent were closed. Was a bit disappointed at not receiving a letter from you this morning. It seems ages since I heard from you. I love you dear, so much that the to me seems twice as long. Why every thought and act I perform seems to be guided by you. It is a pleasant sensation for one who has been independent all her llfe. How did it all happen? When did it happen? I can’t answer either question. Can you? It is as though I ha~e waited for you all my life though I did not know what I was waiting for. Now, for the first time in ~y llfe I want to be kissed, loved and caressed. I want to ~eel that I a~ of some use, and want to do things of worth. What a difference you have made to me. Boy, I wish I could tell you these things instead of writing them. Lee, dear, I wonder if you are as happy as I am. All day long I think of how different home-o~ing will be from what your leave-taking was. Sometimes I picture myself meeting you at the pier and of the evenlngs we will spend together - Just you and I. It is Just like weaFin~ a spider web. Daydreaming in this fashion is very pleasant. And in all my dreams you are the most i~portant factor. Sometimes these dreams are so realistic that I feel you are with me and that we are playing a ga~e - Just as we used to play house when we were children. Was I ever a child? One would never know it, because I always possessed an overabundance of dignity. Never wanted a fuss ~ade over me and always demanding respect and avoiding children’s games or things not ladylike. Such a life made me critical - different fro~ Gussie and Clarence. These very things,- I believe, ~ade me feel that love was a Joke because all (or most all) men were alike - fickle and selfish. All my views have changed, now. It is as though heaven itself has co~e on earth and I have entered its

Lovo, War, and Modioine

gates. You, dearest, have done all this for me. How little I have done for you to repay you for all this happiness. But I hope that the time is not far distant when I can prove by acts and deeds the love I bear for yOU ¯ ~ut, dearest, ~uch as ~ love you, ~ don’t believe I should feel satisfied if you would return (and you~ work was finished) until the Huns realized that the world is not centered in Germany nor the Kaiser. Such arrogance should be licked out of him before ou~ work is finished. I hardly believe Russia will have much ¯ fleet on either side. Well, dear, my news is exhausted and I am very sleepy. Won’t you stop in Just for a moment and kiss me good night? These iaagina~-y kisses are fine - but I’d gladly give ten years of my life for ten minutes with you tonight. In those few minutes I could crowd so ,inch. Good night dearest. If I succeed in making you one half as happy as you have made me, I shall be well satlsfied.
YOUI’S forever,

Nina February 13 My own darling, Though it’s bedtime, I can’t resist writing you once more, especially as I Just received your two

lovely letters of ~anuax~ 2lst and 22nd. You remember

you wrote the one in the morning and th~ other at night. You acknowledged the set of hair-combs and I’m very glad you like it. z know it is becoming to you and I should love to see you wearing them. Also pleased to hear Stella liked the necklace. Did I tell you that I slaG bought a nice scarf for my mother at the same timeT Haven’t heard yet whether she received it, but I suppose she did. Tell me, Hina, did you have to pay any postage or duty on that parcel? z was told that duty is charged. I can’t tell you how I enjoy those two letters. They’re the best you’ve ever written and that’s going some, f~r in them you open your thoughts to me as you never did before and you make me very happy. They’re real love letters and I shall always treasure them for they tell me unmistakably that you have given yourself to me even as z have to you. It is you, .dearest, who are suffering from this wa~, .not I, for you must stand the cold and the coalless days and the rest of the -less days,- While I bask in fairly warm weather and have all I want to eat and never worry about expenses, etc. I fully realize that

~ove, War, a~d Medicine


you are doing your bit even as those of us on this side of the pond. But, please, darling girl, take care of yourself and keep yourself warm. I don’t want you to get sick. Please don’t say that you’d be happy to know I’m happily married,- even to some other girl. That will never be, as you know. There’s only one girl in the worl~ for me and that’s you. So don’t worry about any other girl. In this connection may I quote you a part of a letter I received from Sam Solomon, one of my best friends (of course he knows nothing of you). After advising me to get married ’apres le guerre’ and going into a wonderful description of home sweet home with your wife seated by you next to the fire, he goes on: ’Permit ~e, also, to suggest the ideal one. To my mind, she is the one girl friend of yours who would make your life intensely, supremely happy. Her name is Amelia Shaplnsky. She is a thoroughbred - she will add much to your life. She is of that type who will be a source of omfor~ and constan~ inspiration to you. She is refined; she is intelligent; she is deeply sympathetic. She will guide you safely on through the years. ’She likes you immensely. She told me so when she was here and I have heard so indirectly many times. She is yours for the asking; at least, she can be won if you persist in your attentions. To my mind, your temperaments are such that you will find in each other that hidden flame from which will burst forth the beautiful fires of love and happiness. Go after her - for your own sake, for her sake, for the sake of mankind.’ What do you think of that, Nina? He writes like a poet and had he only substituted the name of Nina Kleinman for A~elia Shaplnsky, l’d have agreed with him to the utmost. This girl, by the way, I met about two years ago while she was visiting Chicago (she’s from Louisville, Kentucky); she’s a very nice girl; but since then l’ve not seen her nor even corresponded with her, nor even thought of her, so that his choice came as a distinct surprise to me. No, Amelia will have to look ¯ I sewhere. You ask me why the mistletoe at our Xmas banquet and I echo ’why?’ l’m sure ’twas a useless thing for there were nothing but officers at said affair. Again, about the old lady and the liniment and massage, if my memory is good, I sor~ of wiggled my hands and indicated she was to do her own massaging. Yes, this took place in my inspection room. No danger - she was old enough to be at least my grandmother. Your evening letter, as always, was evoh nicer than your morning one. You sort of put your whole heart into it as I know it’s impossible to do in your office.

Love, War, and ]/e die ine


the uniform - I don’t know. But I looked forward to ~oeeivlng you~ letters and took (still do) particular dellKht in ~tin~ you, ~oause I knew you w~ld unde~stand ~. ~t~ th~s t~e I began to a~e yo~ pluck and t~ ~tor~al you were made of, as wel~ as yo~ opt~iem. To ~ f~a~ w~th you t~ un~fo~ b~o~ht out t~ t~a~ts I most a~Fe ~n any ~n - s~ a spinstoF. T~ q~l~t~e8 ~oh I ~vo always looked f~ ~n a ~n mentally my 8upe~o~ and n~ a c owaFd. Th~8 will p~ovo to you t~t ~t ~s not the ~fo~ but t~ ~n I love at p~eont. In fact, ~e, t~ you a~ t~ bette~ I l~e you. ~y, ~ o~’t ~lp ~ of you - any moFo t~n I oan ~lp b~eath~nK. You ~ ~oo~ essential to me. But, at t~mos I feel most l~e a thief. Yo~ family ~ve t~ own fo~ you a~ ~ a~ i8 an~he~ d~awback. Yes, ~ knee all you will say about t~t, but ~ou must th~ well. we wo~ 8tFa~e~8 I would n~ hesitate and would enJ~ t~ pros~ots Of a thorny path, but I love all po~le ~d dontt want to h~t t~m. It is better I should 8~fe~ all my l~fe than to g~ve you pain one hour. Of oou~ee I love you wlth all my heart but I have so little to offer you. However, you have my promise that if you feel the same way when you arrive in New Yo~k I am yours the moment you set foot on the plot. It will be you~ privilege to change you~ mind o should you meet any other g~l more eulted to you. As for me, I love you too deeply to change my mind, as you have a stronger hold on sm than you can posetbly tmaglne. My confession t8 at an end. It has been an effort to u~ite these pages as I want you to fully realize the situation and to know me before you declare yourself or come to any decision. It is you I love and not the uniform though I owe my entire happiness to Uncle Sam. You~ letters from #~ to #10 have not yet reached me, 8o that I know there are at least six letters on the way. If you only knew how hungry I am for your letters! Can’t you write a pr~scr2ption for heartache8 when letters are delayed? Dearest, can’t you fool how much I love you? So oven the l~enoh doll hasn’t taken my place. Itm glad of that ae I was a 12tale anxious, though I k~w I had nothlnK to fear, any more than you have so far as" I am concerned. The hou~ of twelve 28 striking and I am back to ~o~mal. £11 my nervousness has gone, and I feel nothing but love from head to toes for the dearest boy tn the world.

Love~ Wax-, and Nedtclne


Good night, dearest. If you doubt m~ sincerity you may test me and in the meantime, you must believe me when I say that I am all yours and am happy to be

Yours only
Nina If ~you were hem how ~ would hug you now. My, what a fe~tunate gi~l I am to be in love with such a ~eal man. How I love you, Lee. Won’t you kiss me good n~’~. Thanks. You took my breath away that time, but I like it. February 1~, 1918 My dearest Lee, Have Just read over my letter of last night and want to add a word or two. The object of the foregoing pages is to make you fully realize the situation, as there is still time to go back to the indifferent attitude towards me. 0f e~se, we ~ve ~o~ Just a little too fa~ to be cousins a~ain, but we can always ~ f~iends. If, h~eve~, yo~ love is fi~, then m~ ~t~ l~e is in ~o~ ~nds, ~d ~ s~ll ~ve~ a~ain False any obJeotton, but s~ll devote my time to ~kin~ you ~ppy. ~ic~ve~ o~se ~ou p~s~, I hope you will neveF ~ cause to ~t it. I love ~ou u~stionabl~, as I ~ve mve~ believed it was possib~ f~ ~ to love any o~. In fast, was s~ of myself bef~e I told you about it, as I waned ~o~ sent~nts first. If I ~ontin~ ~iting s~ll ~et w~ite~’s You a~ a ~a~ bo~ and I love you t~ly, without t~ slightest doubt oF ~estFaint. Unless ~ou disoouFa~e Yo~s t~ou~h Ete~ity

February 16 After the sick parade, I rode to see the ADMS; was told I’m to remain with the l~th Royal lnniskilling Fusiliers, and we are to go back to the rear line and we will be walled an "Int~enehi~ Battalion," whatever that means.

Love, War, and Medicine


February 18 Sick parade; cold and frosty and thirty-nine soldiers ~eported sick and one had German measles; I sent seven men te the hospital. That evening I wrote "With the Tommies at Cambral," this for a prize competition for the New York Herald, (but never received an answer.) Monday, February 18 Letter #18 My own girl, It is very difficult to write today, somehow, as it’s Monday and I never could write on that day - I don~t exaetly know why. Perhaps it’s because it’s the day after Sunday or some other equally foolish reason. £t any rate, m~ pen and my mind refuse to coordinate this moruing so you may as well know now this letter wontt be worth much. I have to be in the mood to write, Just as an actor has to be in the mood to act. £nother reason, perhaps, is that I’ve had no mail from you for five days. Not that I’m worried because I realize the defects of the mail system, but I always feel mush better when I receive one of your Jewels. I still remember almost every word of those last two letters of ~anuary 22nd and ~3rd for they are, as I said in my last letter, the best you ever wrote me and that ’ s a big compliment.

You remember in my last (February l th) letter I

~ote you, I was waiting to be transferred to a base hospital for service there. Dearest, that’s all off. It seems a mistake was made by the division. I’m to remain with my battalion as hitherto. In a way I’m glad because I’ve grown to like ~y companions very mush. I do regret the comparatively little real medical work I see out here, and that’s why I chose the base hospital when th~ chance was offered to me. But I have Just heard other news, almost as good. Our battalion is shortly to move way bask to be a reserve unit. That doesn’t make any one of us angry at all, as trench life in winter i8 not exactly a tea party, I can assure you. We’re still in the same place, living in a hut several miles back of the line. ThinK8 are very quiet and peaceful. The last few mornings have been a bit frosty and cool and our stove has come in handy. Am sitting by it now, usin~ my knee to write you.

Love, War, and Yediolne

Day before yesterday, I rode over twenty-five miles on ~y ho~ee and visited the llOth Field Ambulance, my fomr ho~e. I met an AmeriCan doctor ther~ by the name of Captain Hays, a Harvard ear, nose and th~oat specialist. Had lunch with him. The ride took me about fou~ hours. And when I got back, ~ ached fro~ head to foot as T haven.t had much chance to ride lately. And yesterday T was stiff as a board, but today a~ much better, khou~h not entirely over the effects yet. I have a rather slow horse, but she’s a p~etty steady plodder. My little brother Paul won a gold medal (his second) fo~ winning the plunge for distance in a high school meet in Chicago. He plunged fifty-three feet, eight inches in the minute allowed and took first place. Pretty good for a kid of fifteen. I don’t believe I could plunge over fifty-th~ee inches. How about you? I understand you’re pretty fai~ at swimming. I’ll never go swi---ing with you unless you first promise me faithfully not to do you~ best, otherwise you’ll put me in the shade. Do I hear you promise? What-kind of an ie~pression is the new ~ayor of Mew Yo~k e~eating? And bow’s that tin stock you told me about when I was in New York? Well, dearest girl, I’ve ~un d~y of all news. Please excuse this brief letter - I’ll tr7 to do better next tlae. My very best regards to all the folks, including the K~auses. With many kisses and all my love, as ever Yours lovingly, Lee Monday, Februar~ 18 Dear Folks, I sent you a half page note yesterday to let you know I was O.K. Had to post it quickly in order to catch the mail. Last night received no letters, but did get three Sentinels and a medical magazine. Thanks very much. ~ especially enJo7 the Sentinels as it gives me all the gossip of home. Some Tribunes tale also; they o,~ regularly. In one of them (January 20th), I saw that Unger of Sinai won the plunge. That’s my little brother Paul, isn’t it? I’ll bet he’s grown some since I saw him. We’re still in the same place I wrote you about in my last letter and it is still as quiet and peaceful as ever. The weather has been beautiful, though the last couple of nights have been frosty and oooi. However, we’ve a good stove in ou~ hut so don’t mind a bit. I play bridge almost every da~, as that consumes time and I’ve lots of that at present. Yesterday I opened a hand by bidding one no t~ump and the rest passed. The player to mp left wanted to kid me along,

Love, Wax., and iledioine


so let ae have the bid though be had a wonderful hand. He played th~ ace, ki~, queen and five oth~ spades to begin with, befor~ I g~ started. I was luc~ to ~ke two t~ieks so was set five ~ ~0 points on the ~d. Then this offlee~ ~sed to acoe~ t~ 2~0 points as ~ sa~ ~ was only ~vi~ soee ~n at ~ e~ense. Ha~n’t eau~ up on ~tl yet. ~till owe o~ a do,on answeFs. I need a secFetaFy, I can see. How’s the weat~F ~tn Chtoa~o? H~*s ~tld~ed B. and ~F f~¢~? Does s~ take tt badl~ ~’s await Affe ct tonate 1~,

Wednesday, Peb~tar~ 20th Up at 6z00 A.N. and by motor lo~tes to Cugny, nea~ Ha~. l~at~ billets tbe~e. I have a room in a F~ench hon~. £ cold rainy day, but managed to play bridge with the Colonel Knott and Lieutenant Bell from the llth lnniskillin~

Dea~ Jo~,

February 21st - 10:15 P.]/.

P~st of all ~y bea~tiest congratulations ~d best wisps to y~ on yo~ )~h b~thday of Ma~ch 10th. Th~s letteF ~y ~ ~y not ~ach you on that day, n@ve~t~less l ~an it to, ~d t~t’s all I c~ do. It will, no doubt~ feel Pater strange to ~ou to oelebPatt~ yo~ f~st b~thday afteF the twenttes ~d you’ll be~tn to wonder whet~P you’Pe not gettt~ alo~ towed old baoheloFhood. PePhaps that n~beP thl~y will lead you to a~e a speed~ ~d ~pp~ ~PPta~ Here’s l~k and Happiness to t~ ~ut~e couple, ~. and ~s. ~oseph D. U~eP, whoe~e~ the other ~ ma~ ~oe, wh~ don’t you and Ed each pick out a ~tPlT T~n wa~t till we ~et home and find o~ fo~ me and we’ll have a tPtple weddt~. H~’s t~t? Paul can ~ ~st ~n (~) fo~ all of us. Itm In a locality where I can’t buy you any gift, so please ~move $2.~0 fPom m~ account a~ bu~ ~o~self a shtPt o~ s~ks oP ~hi~ else you ~y need. The ~tl oame in toda~ and I was t~ most disappo~ted fellow you eveP saw. Na~ a 1t~ did I ~et an~ of t~ 110 alllion o~ so Inhab~tants of the United States. It’s a week stn~e I ~ard fr~ any of you ~d ~ou oan well Imagi~ I don’t l~e this delay.

Love, Wax., and Medicine


~nen I last wrote home, on the eighteenth, we were located in a camp about three miles back of the line. Yesterday we moved way back and we’re now over ten miles back and with every prospect of remaining back here i~definitely. I’m ~iting this in the kitchen of the French home I’m in. I have a decent room here with a swell soft bed. The kitchen is the warmest room of the house, so I use it for readin~ and writing. We’re in a tiny village once occupied by the Boche, but now well back of the line. The houses are about half-ruined, but there are plenty of people here and you’d be surprised if you saw how many children this villa~e boasts of. There’s a school, too. Even a couple of small shops and cafes. Truly, we’re in luxury now. Hope it continues. The weather is still balmy and fairly warm. There is a hospital (a Cleariz~ Station) close by here and today I saw the matron and two other nurses strollin~ ~o~n the streets. It’s good to see females again. Also inspected an ambulance train today. They are so luxurious one is almost tempted to ~et wounded. Well, Joe, I must go to bed. Your Ic~ing brother,


February 21st My dearest darling, It’s llsO0 P.M. and I,m blue. I can’t help it ! When the pile of mail came in today and was bein~ handed around, I made a rush at the post ool~poral with supreme confidence that there’d be at least one letter from my sweetheart. He looked at me, shook his head~ ’Nothin~ for you tonight, air.’ I turned away a much disappointed boy. I was so sure of gettin~ a letter from you I’d almost sworn I would.

Love, War, and Medicine


Yes, I’m blue and awfully lonesome for you. If only I could have you hePe with me to cheer me up, I’d be as happy as a l~k. One clasp of you:. hand and one kiss fPom you~ lips would be the most welcome of all gifts. Nina, you dontt realize, no, you can’t, Just how I’m lording fo~ you. As I sit here, in the solitude, wPiting this, I fully appreciate what a fool an old bacheloP is. He thinks his clubs will be even better fop him than a wife. But I know now, after about eight months away from ~y native land, and after spendir~ most of that time in the society of others of my own sex,- I know that a happy ~aPPiage is the only fit goal fop a ~an as it is for a woemn. And I consideP myself fortunate beyond words in having found the ode woman who I’m sur~ will be happy with me and I with her. I suppose in otheP letters I’ve said about the same things, but what’s the diffePence? If anything, repetition ~e~ely e~phasizes the fact that I love you deafly, with all ~y heart and fe~voP, and I shall neveP be happy till I have you and you me. And when we have each otheP, God willing, I don’t think any other lovesick couple will have a thing on us. I’ve constr~cted some wondePful air castles about you and me, deaF; how happy we’ll be when those come t~ue and come t~ue they will, if I wan do all I wish to. I’m w~iting this next to the stove in the kitchen of a FTench home. Yesterday we left those huts from which I wPote letter #18 and came to this little village, half-~uined, about ten miles ba~k of the line. I’m billeted in a fairly decent FTench home. I think we’re back in this reap zone fop good. A numbeP of changes have occurred lately and amon~ them ou~ battalion has been tossed about a good deal. Out of the chaos we’ve emerged as an ’entrenching battalion!’ ][o lon~eP ar~ we to do so many days in the tPenchee, so many out, to attack and Pepel. No longer ape we to be the terroP of the Boche. No! We’Pe now a pick and shovel battalion, we, one of the pPoudest and best battalions in the British Army. As the French say, ’C’est la guerpe.’ No, we’re not kicking oveP the change, for, from a selfish point of view, weirs far better off now than before. We’pe now to woPk back in the rear zones only. We have good billets, good food, don’t have to weaP steel helmets, plenty of exercise. Yesterday our battalion bought a cow fop 800 francs and we ape all getting fpesh milk now. Plenty of eg~s also at eight cents apiece. We’Pe in pPactically no dangeP. In case of a battle, we’pe still soldiePs. This village is a tiny one Just on the map. There are plenty of civilians here includin~ a su~pPising

Love, War, and Medicine


number of children. But, as is usual in s~all village a~d towns, p~etty girls are conspicuous by their absence I ~uess they all go to t~ cities like ~iens and PaFis. ~ust o~e home f~om a.~oonoe~t ~d enjoyed it. It was given by ’D’ Co~a~ of ou~ battalion,- all son~s a~ ~ i~Po~tu. T~ setti~ and singi~ wePe not so goPgeous as in gPand opera, it is t~e; if ~ou can plet~e an old baPn in place of an opera house; fou~ eandles In p~ce of t~ footlights; a winding, wooden, Piekety staiP up to t~ loft in place of a ~rble, bPoad stai~a~; a woo~n floo~ instead of a ca~ted o~; a~e Io~ wooden pla~s on s~e soapboxes instead of plush seats; and Tobies and officePs of ~di~Pe ability si~i~ without instP~ntal acco~ani~nt instead of Ca~so with .,~h~. oPchestPa of seventh-five oP i00; ~ ~ou oan piot~e all that and mope you will nat~ally wondeP how I could possibly enjoy the ’oo~e~.’ But I did, fop t~ wasn’t an~hing snobbish about it ’twas all sleeps. ~aPest giPl, I’m too io~o~ to wPite ~o~. It’s late and I’m goin~ to ~d. I’d suPely lo~e to kiss you go~ ni~t, not once but man~ times. Good night, my daPli~ sweetheaPt a~ p~asant UttePip youPs, ~e
Prida~, Pebruar~ 22 Washin~toa’s Birthday, but it is no_~t calebrated here. Called on the ADM~; he will send in my request for promotion to captain. Be will also send ~e to the city of P6ronne for a special instruction course photos home and to Nina.

in sanitation. Mailed so~e

Wednesday, l~ebruar~ 27th
Have been doing a lot with much horseback riding and the inoculated T.A.B. vaccine (typhoid) Companies A & B. Du~Ing one of by rides I had an exeellent view of the suvroundlng country for about fifteen ~lles ineludin~

of inspecting ou~ companies, usual sick parades. Also into 150 soldiers of

Love, War, and Medicine

St. Quentin and trenches (the Battle of St. Quentin comes
soon) .

Letter #21 Saturday night, February 23 My dearest love, Saturday nigh~ once more’. What memories that recalls! I remember the time when I practically never stayed in on that night of the week. It was always a show or a movie or a party o~ a dance or a walk. To stay home was unt hou6ht of. And now I’m very happy indeed to spend the evening in the company once more of n~ adored sweetheart. Yes, writi~ you, next to 8eei~ you, is my greatest pleasure. And tonight I write with new zest and zeal for before me on the table are two Ninas, one face lit up by a cheery smile, the other revealing thought and intelligence and seriousness. I love both of these photos, dearest, and my utmost gratitude is due you for mailing them to me. I really don’t know which one I like better - they’re both Indlspensable. You would not be complete with either one alone, f~ you would lack that combination of thoughtfulness and cheeriness for which I love you dearly. When I come to examine the pictures more closely, I see a wealth of dark hair, almost black; a fine forehead; two pairs of eyes, one serious, the other set twinkling; by the way, do you know I don’t know exactly what color those eyes of yours are? I suppose they’re dark brown. Is that right? On the pictures I also see a lovely mouth, Just inviting me to a lone soul kiss. There! l’ve kissed it (too bad ’tls only a picture I have here). And the lau~hi~ face with its llps apart reveals a perfect set of white teeth - a priceless possession. I admire clean teeth and over here and in England they’re far too rare. Did I ever tell you that when I was at the Royal Herbert Hospital I was introduced to a nurse there; at first sight I marveled at her beauty; but when she spoke and revealed two rows of yellow, decaying teeth, I was almost horrified for it was truly a pity that God gave such a beautiful face to one who did not care what she looked llke. You see what a critic I am, but I know you agree with me on that subject. Yes, I do love those photos. On one of them, written in pencil, is a figure V - I hope that means ’I love you.’ If at any time you have others taken, such as snapshots, be sure and send me copies. Yesterday I mailed you a copy of some I had taken in Paris. I don’t think they’re true - I’m not nearly so good-looking as the picture seems to show. Al says they flatter me and he’s always

~iKht. Z only had a :f’ew taken and as T don’t want to butt in on A1, I didn’t send one to Stella. I hope she won’ t mind. -£nd now to your three delightful letters of Januar~r 2~th, 27th and 30th. They came this evening alesK with the photos and relieved my suspense for I hadn’t heard from you in over a week. Ill three a~e splendid for you~ heart dictates them all, and as that heart belongs to me, how can I help loving the letters so written? You tell me most unmistakably that you and T wez~ meant for each other, and I do love the way you make me realize it. You always seem to have the knack of usin~ the r~ht words and phrases. In only one thing do I disagz~e with you and that is in you~ high praise of me. I’m not worth it. It’s you who deserves the praise, not I. One other point. You ask if you~ repeated assertions that you love me bo~e me. That word ’bore’ is verboten. You cannot bore me, no matter what you say or do. ’So," please, Just keep on tellir~ me you love me. And another thinK. One of you~ letters was started at IsO0 £.Jf. Now you know, dearest, how I love those ’from the hear~’ letters you write at night. But I don’t want even them if you’re undermining you~ precious health while doing that. So please, darling, get enough sleep. Don’t be ~iting when you should be 81eepinK, even to me. I most beautiful and healthy, for health is essentlal~ to happiness. So promise me you’ll never let that happen again. Yes, you oertalnly may 8it in ~y lap and v~ite. But you’d do p~eelou8 little w~itinK while in my lap, I’ll guarantee you. Please turn you~ face this way and give me you~ lips and hold me tightly. There! That’8 the stuff to give ’era. Just think, dearest, how mush time we oonsunm w~Itir~ each other and how we’ll utilize that time when we meet. Am awfully sorry to hear you~ feet were frostbitten, but I hope you’re O.E. now. ~0 you have blue pajamas. Well, blue is a nice color. Those I brought out with me a~e too light for this damp climate. I swiped two pair of woolen one8 when I was at a casualty clearing station. I don’t know what color they ar~ now - sort of muddy color, I guess. And, dearest gi~l, please don’t speak about me findIng another girl and you stepping to one side. ~0! You’~e fc~ me and I’m for you - forever. Is that a sufficient answer9 -~0 other glrl shall intervene. Ho, none of you~ letters or any others from the United States of America are censored. The first few were, but none fo~ many months. As I 8it here in the kitchen of the F~ench home I have you~ photos in front of me and I take turns kissing

Love, War, and Medicine

thsm. X know it’s no~ vez~y satisfactory, but best X can do. We’~ s~i~ ~n ~he s~e v~e and ~ke~y ~o s~ay ~ sam battalion, o~ na~ ~s buun o~fi~la~y you ~d bs~e~ send yo~ ~e~ ~om now on. tndtoates o~ new ~notlon ve~ ~11 - we’~ so~ of a labo~ battalion now. ~ ~d a lo~ talk ~steFday with the A.D.N.3. ststant D1~oto~ Nedloal Se~oe) of o~ dlvlslon boss. We talked ove~ t~ ~w work. He also told was gol~ ~o send ~ on a co~se of s~ltat~on (a so~ of sohool) a week f~om tomorrow; it is on~ a bFtef tht~ - about a week. ~ asked foF ~t as I feel I oou~ t~e bette~ oa~e of my battalion afte~ aoFe ~nst~ot~on. It’s ~ld ~n a good-sized town not fa~ f~ here. sa~d he ~dn’t ~d any official wo~d about my tFansfer to the £.E.P., but tho~ht It might oome at any time. ~ also sa~d ~ ~’t ~a~d an~ht~ about p~omottons in o~ oases (those of us attao~d to t~ B.E.P.); but ~ would ~e~end ~ oaptatnoy at t~ end of ~ yeaF of service. My yea~ will be up ~e ~h a~ I’Ii confess my shoulders feel strong enough to car~ an extra silver bar on each. Doctors in the B~Itish a~y are aut~atieally pr~oted at t~ end of the first year. To~y was a ~auti~l, wa~ day so a Lieutenant BFa~o~d and I went fo~ a ~Ide on o~ ho:ses. We about 11~0 £.~. ~d ~o~ t~ f~ve m~les to a ~ghbo:~ laF~e t~n w~ we put up t~ ho~ses. Then we ~d l~oh a~ ~ offloe~s’ ~ss t~; eaoh of us p~eeded to ~t a ~t~out and s~poo, then we h~ed down t~ st~et to t~ onl~ sh~ in to~, a ~~. Saw a p~tty ~ood United States film oalled t~ ~Yellow Pan~.’ T~ t~ouble was ’twas most t~obable. Afte~ t~t we ~d tea,- BFanfo~d ~s a Londone~ ~d insisted on it. T~n we sta~ed home. B~anfo~d’s ho~se ~s much fast~ t~ mt~ as mine ~s the sl~est in the battalion,Just suitable fo~ me, ~ ~ess. He let his ho~se out and I did t~ same with mine. And fo~ p~aot~call~ t~ whole five afles we oante~ed along at a ve~ good paoe and fln~s~d with a ft~ gallop. I tell you ~ was pe:spl~tng w~n we pulled ~n ~. But I ~veF enJoyed a Fide so ~oh. I used to th~ all the~e was to ho~se-~1dtng was to ollmb on and sit st~ll. ~tatn’t so~ It’s an a~. You’ve got to hold on tightly w~th y~ k~es and you must pull up ~d d~n Fh~oal~y so as to miss every othe~ o~ o~ t~ ho~se~s steps. I~a Just e~p~hendt~ now t~ a~ a~ beg~nnt~ to aaste: ~t. Yesterday was Washtn~ton’s bt~t~ay, but t~y don’t oeleb~ate it out ~e. ~ celebrated It b~

poker, penny ante and franc limit. ~ftor about two hours I emerged one penn~ to the good. Gee, but s~o ~lor. Did I toll you the battalion bought a cow? It was supposed to Kivo sovontoon liters of milk a day. The first day it gave fourteen, the second ~ostorday) it only gave oiKht. Havontt heard today0s scor~ yot, but it looks as though ou~ oow was holding out for mor~ pay and a long eontraot. Ou~ moss has a victrola, a small one. £nd suoh a misfit I never boforo saw. Tho thingamaJig that holds the noodles is rusty and on the bum, we havoa low wornout noodles, and the low rooord8 are di~ty, eraakod and old. But it plats, sound comes out - not x~al but we on~oy it. 4Vo0r~ getting it f~xed up with now noodles, eta. Tt doosn0t belong to us, 8o guess we won 0 t have it long. I startod this loafer at 9:00 F.N. and ttJs now. No, I haven0t boon wrttir~ all this timo. lOvo boon sittinK hero looking at your photos and d~oaminK away. T0vo boon thinking of the futu~o and you aro the eont~al figure the~ein. I0vo been building a houso with five big rooms and a log fireplace. I~ve soon you and mo sitting in front of the cheerful f~o. We worn holding hands. Ever~ onto in a while we0d havo one swoot, long kiss. We wore as happy as wo oould be. You wo~o moro beautiful than over and Just as kind and thoughtful and tendor and adorable as over. No, we didn0t havo muoh to say to oaoh other for our worn too £ull of happiness. We Just sat there lookLng at the fi~e and dreaming away, as Itvo been d~oaming tonight.

Hiss, darlln~, please hold me tightly and kiss me
good night. Not once, but ~any tlme9. There, that0s

better. I~ll close this letter and crawl into my Jamas and into bed. And I’ll think only of you till I fall asleep and perhaps I may d~sam of you.

8o good night, my belbvod glrl, and God be with you, for you are one Jewel I want and I want it unlmpai~ed. Dearest Nina, I love you very deafly, with all my and soul and strength. So brln~ you~ llps to mine and ~Ive a long kiss to You~ own


Letter #22 My dearest aina, Last night I w~ote you a long letter and ttLts noon while waiting for lunoh (one-half hour) TOm again you~ abject slave. It’s a g~eat privilege to me to have Peb~uary 2~th

Lovo, War, and Medicine

someono llke you I" can writo to and with whom Z can sharo mn~ thoughts as Z do with 7ou. :It is Sunday noon.and yolky poaoeful. The chnrch services a~e over - they hold thx~e, the Church of ~n~land, l~esbFterlan and Roman Catholic. No, I never go. This mossing, instead, another officer and :I took a nice ride through the woods adjacent to this village. Zt’s so beautiful out here and I’m gettin~ to l~ke ridin~ so ~eh that I ~eally enjoyed myself more than have in a low time. Pros now on :I intend, if possible, to ~ake use of ~y horse every day for the exercise is g~eat and Just what I need. It’s even better than dietin~ to keep ~e from bursting. This afternoon at 2:00 P.M. I begin the annual inoculations a~ainst typhoid and paratyphoid fevers. It’ s a big Job and will have to do, in all, probably over 400 men and officers. I’m doing one-fourth of them today. Yesterda~ :i w~ote ~ou to send ~ou~ ~ail to ~e with the new address, the 23rd Entrenching Battalion, but, on r~considering, you’d better keep on sending to the old l~th Royal :Irish Rifles as :I’ll be a bit su~er to get it with the old title than the new. Last night, after I finished w~iti~ to you and had crawled into bed, I lay looking at you~ photos for a lon~ ti~s, Just d~eamin~ away. And my d~eams of you and ae have heco~e ver7 frequent and precious. I must have d~ea~ed for at least thirt~ minutes before :I kissed you good night and put you~ photos up where I could greet them the first thing in the morning. Then :i went to sleep contented, with all my thoughts for my sweet and chax~aing ~aiden in New York. On the rids today I bumped into an A~erican a captain, who told ne that aan~ £~erican doctors with the B.E.F. were being transferred every month to the £.E.P. 3o I suppose my tur~ won’t be far off. Well, dearest child, for you are a lovable child to ms - my time’s about up add lunch calls me. And lest I miss it and thereby fade away to a ~sre 200 pounds o~ so, :I’ll once morn let you know most emphatically that :I love you and you alone. You~ most devoted Lee 11:30 p.M. Dear~ st Gl~l, :I’m at it again, once mo~e in the quiet of night, the tt~s when :I can best talk to you and t~ to ~ake ~ou ~ealize with what fervor and affection I you. I did fifty inoculations this afternoon in the one hour - tomorrow morning about 1~0 mo~e a~e due. After

Lovo, War, and l/odlolne


that I took a long walk as it has been a most delightful and sunny Sunday afternoon. Oh, glrl, but I do love you now mo~e than ever three mo~e of you~ letters came tonight, those of January 28th, February 3rd and 6th (you~ #1). In that you ~ention not having had my first letter after I began to number them so that we could keep better track of each other and supply mtssiD~ links. I p~esume by now you have it. If not, I asked you In that to number all ~oum letters to me as I’ve been doing lately. No, decidedly no, you ar~ not becoming a nuisance by writiD~ so frequently. Just the opposite. The mo~e I get, the more I want. So you too knit. I assu~e you that I’ll have you knit me stuff fo~ the winter of 1918-19 if the wa~ goes on that lon~. This winter’s gone out here as it’s most de light ful now. No, I don’t mind you writing to me while in negligee,

especially when you admit having a pretty kimono. When
am you going to let me see that kimono? Couldn’t you get a snapshot taken of you in a kimono .in youm room while writing to met You could have your lovely hair flowing down your bask. I’m sure ’twould make a dandy I’m awfully glad to hear that ~ou’rs happy and to hear you say that cure love is the cause of your feelIn~s. And I also am mope Joyful than I’ve been If we two can be so contented while so far away, how happy ws will be when the war is o~r’and you and I will be united as never before.
Pebruar~ Dea~ Folks, Have been very busy these last few days, so couldn’t write you sines my last of the 21st. I received letter of November 20th which seems to have chased all aPound F~anee before it found me. The envelope looked as thou6h it had been used as a football. Also r~ceived Pa’s letter of February let, Joe’s of January 26th, one from Ed, one from Millard, also one each from gill, Uncle Max, Dr. Hewberger, Dr. Lewis and little Roslyn Finkelstein. So you see I’m in clover this week. The worst thin~ is to answer them as letterwriting is not my long suit. In Pa’s letter of February 1st I note that you ape all well and happy; that you are getting mail from me regularly and fairly rapidly now; and that mother oeived the scarf I sent her. Am very glad she likes it - I thought it was pretty nice myself. Also I’ll bet the workless Mondays have been great vacations for Pa.

Did you get the draft for ~00 I sent Joe while in Boulogne Pebznmr7 6th? -Let ms know. Ed and Millard bobh write awfully funny letters and it is evident that a~my life agrees with them as it does with ms. We’r~ still in the same village o~r ten miles back of the line and from the looks of things, we’re going to remain her~ indefinitely. I hope so as it’s very fine out this way and we’re all comfortable. Did I tell you in my last letter that we are now the 23rd Entrenching Battalion, B.E.P., but keep on sending my mail to the l~th Royal Irish Rifles. Oum men are doing rear son@ labor work, even to fixing tracks. The news we get from Russia is dishea~tening and the sooner folks in the United States of America realize thereIs a big war on, the better. The Russians have ce~tainly1~ us down. The end of this war may come at any time, though you never can tell. Am paying about $80 out of this month’s salary for the first year of my $10,000 government policy. Certainly is dt~t cheap. Am w~iting this seated by the stove in the kitchen of mY billet. It’s wa~n and cozy here and suits me to aT. The other day I had a long talk with my boss (British) of the division. He said he would recommend me for promotion to capt~ain at the end of one yearls service (which will be June bth, 1918); also he would let me go to a casualty clearing station or base hospital when a chance arose, but there are two ahead of ms on the list. Finally, he gave me per~isslon, at my request, to attend a brief sanitamy school at a good-sized city not far from her~. I’m going next Monday - only a th~ee-day oumse, but hope to learn some good stuff. It’s a change to go to school again, even for so short a period. A couple of weeks-ago, I mailed you a Boche helmet I captured at Cambrai. It’s a good souvenir. I have a few others, but it’s difficult to get them across as they’~e very strict in what they allow to be sent from APe my letters Still censored? After the first month, no letters to me from the United States of America were censomed at all. Is my office still vacant? Any mo~e engagements or marriages? Who’s who in society? Dancing still going on? Please send me my old baseball finger mitt, a baseball and a catcher’s mitt if you have one. Don’t buy any if you haven’t. I intend to keep in good trim the o omlng s~m~er. With loeds of love to all, ¯ ffe ot lonat ely, Lee

Love, War, and Medicine

Letter F23 (Lu, ky)
February 25th Dearest Just a .~ nots this t~ to l~t ~ou ~n~ ~ou~r~ e~ dea~ to ~. Haven’t much time¯ so know you,ll excuse this 8~Pt ~ssa~. Nothi~ oxciti~ has occ~ed except t~t a KiP1 fPiend of mi~ in Chicago (nothing mo~e t~n a fPiend), by the n~o of ~nioe ~dewick, ~expectedly 8~Pi8od ~ with a b~ of ~dy. I’m eati~ ~o~ of it now. I a tPaitoF to be ~iti~ to you instead of to ~P w~le eat~ ~ Kilt? I suppose I am, f~ hen point of view. T~ weat~ centimes wa~ and s~ny, and t~ colo~l, t~ adjutant ~d I Just c~ back f~ an exhil~at~ two-ho~ Fide. It was veFp fi~ a~ we passed t~ou~h s~e lovely woods on o~ way. ~n this wood is a big t~e on a hill and on top of this is an observation post which e~ds t~ whole ~o~t~ a~o~d fo~ wiles in eve~ di~eetion. We clued up to t~ top b~ ~ans of t~ee steep sets of vertical ladders. T~e is a little platfo~ at t~ ~ top. T~ climb is a dizz~ one as ~ou~e way up ~en you’ve finis~d it. But ’twas wo~h the eneF~ ~oF, t~o~ field glasses, we could distinetl~ ~e out ~tails of all t~ g~o~d and villages and t~ns f~ at least fifteen wiles. It was es~cially fi~ to see t~ B~ t~enc~s over ten miles away ~d t~n o~e with No ~a ~nd between t~ two. T~t’a t~ safest way to see t~no~s - f~om ten miles away. My bat~ is ~vi~ ~ awful ti~ getti~ me up t~se ~ys as my bed is one of those most come, table si~-in ~fai~s. ~ has to call me two-thee t~s each £.M. ~fo~e ~ can a~ouse ~ ~d get me inteFested. But ~’ a ~sistent. Have finland ove~ 200 inoculations foF t~hoid ~d ~vo about 200 ~ore to Go. ~st night, as ever~ night, I la~ awa~ a lo~ t~ Just thi~in~ of you and lovi~ you with all my ~a~. It is wonde~l to have aomeo~ so nice as ~ou to lo~. It nevoF ~ppened to ~ befoFe. ~a~at, I ado~e you. I’m ~ad ove~ ~els in love with ~ou. In choice al~, ’You’ve got ~ Please accept all ey love an4 as ~n~ h~s ~d kisses as you can sta~. Yo~s most devotedly, ~st ~ga~da to all.

Letter #~ Pob~ua~r 27 My love ¯ It’8 twilight now and the sun has gone down and nature is spreading its blanket over the light. And

Love, War, and Medicine


as it does so, I can’t resist sitting down for a few minutes mo~e and telling you again that I love you. I Just wPote to you yesterday and as nothing exctttn~ has happened since, there’s no news in this letter, if you can call such a short message a letter. I simply can’t help, though, letting you know what I think of you. Last night I was awfully blue and lonesome for you. I lay awake for a long ti~e Just wishin~ and wishing. And if wishing gets you anywhere, this war will soon be ove~. And then, dearest girl, I’m going to hit it for little old New York Just as quickly as Uncle Sa~ will let me, and you can Just bet it won’t be the city I’ll be looking for. go, indeed, I’ll be looking for a little lady with abundant dark hair, dark eyes which twinkle and are thoughtful as her mood changes, a beautiful face and the most lovely lips ~an ever tasted. And oh: girl! I do want to taste those lips, not once, but again and again, long and lovingly. And I think I :my be sure that the fervor I will exhibit will be equalled by that of the lady referred to. A~ I right? On Januar~ 18th T w~ete you s letter (#6) which I marked with a star in my diary as it was an Important one, I thought; and if you did not get it, please let ae know as I’m awaiting the answer with a wee bit of anxiety, I’ ii admit. Outside of a little rain this mo~ning and a splendid ten mile ride, there’s nothing new. The days pass ~apldl~. Last night I got into bed and reread once more you~ last six letters and oh! how I love them and thei~ lovel~ authoress. Truly, you have the letter-writing a~t at your finger-tip. No, not at you~ flnger-tip, either, fo~ your hand does but guide you~ heart when you w~ite to me. And it is you~ heart I want and hope I have - no, I know I have, even as you have mine. I get plenty of other letters besides yours, but, somehow, though I like to read theN, they’re not like you=e. They tell me all about their doings and other people’s. But ver~ seldo~ do they give me even a glimpse into their thoughts and never into their hearts. While you, dearest girl, sha~e with me all ~ou~ thoughts and deeds and heartaches, even as I try to do with you. You and I have now reached the point where we are sure of one another. We have, indeed, become, as you say, each other’ s confidant, chu~ and companion. We no longer have any secrets between us. We san and do and will continue to examine each other e~Itically so as to :utually and lovingly i~prove both of us. It is a new thing to have a girl for :y chum. It has never happened to ~e before. When I was about

twenty, I belonged to a whist club and thought T liked one of the girls there fairly well. I used to Juggle the slips 8o that I could call for her and take her to and from the so whist part io 8. But she thought I was merely a boy and now I realize I was at that time - and perhaps a bit of a boy yet. No, we never became affectionate at all - we wore Just good friends. This girl has now boon married several years. Curiously, when I heard she was engaged, I dldntt notice at the time oven

a r~g~etful feeling, so I guess I was far from in love

with her. But with you it’s so different. I’m older now and realize more fully the meaning of the magic word ’love’ for you cantt understand it till you catch the ’infection.’ £nd, Nina dearest, I’ve caught it badly,- I’m hopelessly entangled in its meshes and there’s no chance of my Po-


In one thing I’m unlike you. You have said several tlmos that you would step aside if I found a girl I liked better than you (what a hopol). But I wouldn’t let you
gO for the world if I could help it. No, I’m selfish

and want you all for my own. I could never give you up
to another man. So please be nice to other men and love

I started out to write three words ’I love you’ and it’s taken me pages to do so. I don’t want to take up

too much of you~ time, but I do want to repeat that you have besoms a vital pa~t of me and that I shall always
be true to you and be

Your own boy,


February 28 Dea~ Folks, Nothing exciting has happened lately nor is likely to happen. Things are so quiet and peaceful that I’ve foPKotten what a war is like. Never even hear a shot any more. We’re still in the same place and are likely to be here some little time. Am pretty busy doing inoculations for typhoid, and in addition am taking care of another battalion while its medical officer is temporarily away. Horse-ridlng is my long suit now. I go out every day. Did ten miles this A.M. and don’t oven feel that I’ve had a ride. This afternoon at 5:30 P.M. there’s to be a consort at a Casualty Clearing Station located close by here. Talent f~om both this C.C.S. and our unit will do the entertaining. They begged me to render some mandolin selections but I begged off for four reasons. The

Love, War, and Medicine


fi~st one is that I can’t play ver,y well. The other three reasons are superfluous. However, I’ll be there with my hair in a braid. I saw some nurses there the other day, but none of those T saw would break a man’s heart. ~ Am leaving here Sunday A.M. for ten days schooling; the first six days in a small town close by (chiefly surgical instruction), the next fou~ in a town about twenty-five miles away, chiefly sanitary work. That will be a welcome course as there’s a whole lot of stuff
to learn. After thatwill rejoin my battalion Our band (drums and fifes) Just marched by’my window. It’s 4~00 P.M. and the band always plays in the -new guard and plays out the old one. Changing the guard is quite a ceremony, even out here, though in London it’ s a regular celebration and draws big crowds each day. I note that the ’Music Master’ is or was in Chicago. Did you all see it? Warfield is my idea of a go~d actor. I would hav~. liked to see him once more. 7 used to be

an usher at’his performances--In Chicago; and I remember field would say (about his little daughter): ’If you don’t want her, I want her.’

that each night tears would flow from my e~es when WarThe months do keep slipping by. In a week it will be nine months since I left Chicago. I’m over six and one-half months in !~ance now.

Well, no news. .Lots of love to all of you. Haven’t had a letter from Paul for a long time, thouEh I hear from Pa and Joe frequently. ~nd Joe Goldman and Marie write often also. Affectionately yours,


March 1 After two sick parades, I took care of six civilian patients, one with pneumonia and one evening was guest of the llth Royal with dinner and an excellent stage Mauve s ¯ ’ The next morning many more sick soldiers plus some ¯ .civilians; also gave typhoid vaccine to twenty more men of ou~ unit. with mumps. In the Inniskilling_ Fusiliers show called ’The Merry

Love, War, and Medicine


Sunday, March 3 After two mor~ sick parades, I was relieved by Lieutenant Tipton coach went to the of the 109th Field Ambulance. By motor 61st Casualty Clearing Station (C.C.S.).

~r~ice and food were both pretty poor, and t~ day was really cold. The next day heard some medical lectures by NaJor ~aerson on t~ general principles of s~ge~ at aid ¯ tatlons and field ambul~oes, with special reference to t~ use of t~ f~oua Thomas splints used for fractured hip~. Tuesday, March 5th So~e good and some poor lectures and I’m gettl~ better at applyin~ the Thomas splint. The next day went to a clne~a in the town of Ham and saw three excellent movies, one of them about Douglas Fairbanks in ’His Picture In The Paper,’ another Charlle Chaplin in ’The Tramp.’ Also a good lecture on ’Poison Gas Warfare’ by a Captain Roper, and met two young ladies, one from Chicago, who were

with a Smith College Relief Unit.

March 3 Dear Folks, In school again, but how different. No~e of the college fancies and whims and surroundln~s here. No, here we’re ~erely a collection of about fifteen A~erloan and British medical officers gathered together in a large hut in a Casualty Clearing Station for the purpose of learning some more about war surgery and sanitation. We’re in the large town situated a few miles from the village my unit is in. I was relieved this mornln~ by a Lieutenant Tipton from Virginia (he left United States in November). He

Love, War, and Medicine


will take my place with the battalion for the ten days of this course. This is Sunday evening and as yet nothin~ stirring. The lectures begin tomorrow at 9:15 and continue till 4|00 P.M. each day. Will tell you more about it when I write next time. Am w~itin~ in my room (?) - a partitloned-off little cubicle of the hut. But though it is bare except for a stretcher bed, it does have electric lights and that’s som~thlng. So far about eight officers have turned up I came first, and naturally grabbed off the best room. Our mess is next door. I Just had some tea and am now chewing some gum which arrived in one of the late pareels. Did X tell you that I received Aunt Helen’s sweater? Did you get those pictures I sent you? Also the Boche helmet? Did Marie and Sarah get the doily and handkerehi, efs I mailed them? Have been kept very busy lately as besides the routine battalion work and typhoid inooulatlona, I’ve been once more establishing my reputation among the villagers of a doctor. As I walk along the roads, the women come out and grab me by the arm and lead me to some sick person. I have a hard time with the language, ut I manage to ~et along first rate. ~ong my patients now left behind) are a woman of seventy with pneumonia, another of twenty-seven with mumps, a man with bronohitls, and two children with sore throats. So you see civilian practice is not being neglected. All the patients are doing well, luckily, else I might have to ~ for my life. When I was in civilisation last Xmas, I had a similar large civilian practice including the Mayor (Maire) of the village. It’s great to be feeless,- you can get any number of patients. l~or the first time since about January 12th, it snowed here yesterday and today and was fairly cold; but today it’s already thawing and mud, not snow, is ou~ chief foe at present. There was a persistent rumor the other day that the war was still going on,but its source could not be traced. Probably was a mistake as I haven,t heard a shot for a lon~ time. Am Just as safe here as on Michigan Bbule yard. This hospital we’re at is a big one and today I saw some nurses walkin~ about. I’ii have to investigate and see why. They’re not allowed to promenade,- without me ! The town we’re in is dead as a doornail today. Even the one movie it boasts of is closed today as it’s ~unday. Oh, for a good old-time Sunday afternoon promenade through Waahlngton Park, then one of those Sunday suppers where food is great, then a real old-tlme big


Love, War, and Medic ine


league date with an S.S.P. (no, not the south side pclies - ~er~ly a ’stunning swell peach’). Have a lot of letters to answer. Got a young book from Sa~, also a nice letter from M~. ~orster, Millard’s father. He ~s t~ ~al spirit all Pi~t. He ~s two sons in the a~ now and sa~s, if need be, ~’11 ~ive his ot~ t~e also. T~t~s the st~f to give ’e~. But ~ ~en’t a thing on ~y fat~ ~d ~ot~. Most affectionately,

Marsh 3 Nlna darling, It’s 12:30 A.M. and not exactly the conventional time to write a letter, but to you any time is the proper o~e for me to talk. At these hours around midnight is the time when I can beat throw aside all capes and thoughts other than those which are bound up in mY devotion to you. I’ve had an exceptionally busy day and it has been on the go for me till now. My sick parade was at 7:00 A.M. today as some of our men had to leave early for a workin~ pa~ty. After that I rode over to another village about two and one-half miles away, and held my second sick parade for another battalion whose medical officer is away temporarily. I came back about 11:30 A.M. +and then visited some French civilians I’m taking care of,- I’m fee-less as ever and the French people therefore llke me. I have an old woman with pneumonia, a young woman with mumps, a couple of children with colds, etc. That took me till 1:15 P.M. Then lunch. At 2:00 P.M. I inoculated about twenty-five mope men for typhoid, making well over 200 altogether with about as many to come. Then I had to sign papers (army fo~as) till 4:00 P.M. Had tea, then had to go to a neighboring town about seven miles away. I started out on my horse, but we had a cold spell and some snow; the roads were so slippery I brought the horse back as she was slipping all over the road. Got a lift to the town on a motor lorry and examined the sick captain I had come to see. Then I beat it bask on foot, but, fortunately, got a lift all the way home on a motor ambulance. Got back at 7:30 P.M., ate a hurried dinnet, then came here to my billet. My corporal and I have been wading through a lot of red tape, chiefly inoculation returns. He left about an hour ago. Since then I’ve been packing up as I’m moving to the Casualty Clearing Station several miles away where a

Love, War, and Yedioine


surgioal course is to be given for ~e and others for the next week. 3o you see 7,ve had a vet7 busy day. But the ward has been most wonderful, for the day brought ~e three letters from my sweetheart, those of February 8th

(#2), l~eb~uary 9th (#3) and 13th (#5). In addition,
yesterday I received you~ letter of February let. And oh! Nina, dearest, how I love ever~ line of them and how ~uoh mo~e do I worship you. Yes, worship is the ri6ht word. I don’t use it with any meaning euoh as would plaoe you on God’s level,- no, but you, dearest girl, are my ideal, and your virtues are such as we should all strive fop and worship. Your sweetness and goodness and purity are unsurpassed. And to think that you, t~uly a wonderful and most lovely of all girls, should be destined for me. I know I am not nearly as good as you, but, dearest, with you to help ~e as we go alon~, I,m sure we’ll be happy, very happy indeed.

No, Nina, please don’t stop ’letting off you~ excess steam’ on me. The more steam you have, the more letters I’ll get and the happier I’ll be. For you~ letters make all the difference to me now, for they cheer me up as nothin~ else can. Am sorry and glad you are lonesome for me,- glad because I too feel that way toward you. And never have I been more lonesome for you at any time than right now. If I had you here, even thou6h it’s I:00 A.H. and we’d be unchaperoned, I would Just hold on t~ht to you and kiss you again and again. Yes, and I’d take all the combs out of your lovely hair and let the strands hang down as they were intended to by nature; and I’d caress each strand and wind each around my face; and then, girl of mine, I’d Just hug you and kiss you some more. Darling, would you protest very much at such treatmentT Please give my sympathy to Hiss HcKeon for her burned hand. I do hope~.she’s O.K. again. Thanks for the invitation to see the swimming at the Y.W.C.A. pool - or am I invited? I’m sure I’d appreciate an invitation, but I think a pool for Just you and me would suit me better. What say you? Do you think I’d be able to stand the shock of those onepiece suits you mention? Perhaps if you sent me a photo of one first, the .shock would be much lessened. ~rnen you speak of how happy you are and how you’ve chan~ed for the better and ascribe all this to ~y influence, you make me feel very-good for it’s simply splendid to be able to do this. And, dearest you’re the one I want to see the happlest, yes, and ~’II admit it, however selfish it is,- I want to be Just as happy as you. And I know that in each other’s arms will coma our Peal Joy.

Love, War, and Medicine


No, Nina, you’ve not grown foolish and what you write is not ridiculous. You~ letters have me,ely become more and mo~e affectionate, Just as mine have. Please don’t stop loving me- I couldn’t let you You~ new note paper is elegant, but, as you say, it wouldn’t last lon~ if you used it for ~e. Thank you, dearest, for what you said in your conversation with the gentleman you spoke of. You ~e~embet you said you’d give yourself to the right man, and

you aald I’m the one. I do realize how luck~ I am to
get you. And when you say for the first time you want
to be kissed, loved and caressed,- oh, Nina, lead me to it! I have lots of things to tell you, dearie, principally about my affection for you. But it’s 1.’30 A.M. and I must up at 7:00. 1,11 try and w~ite again tomorrow. The fire in the stove here has gone out and it’s getting cold. So I’ll say good night and crawl into my bed. (I’ll kiss you~ picture first and t~y and dream of you, Nina, till ’d~eams come t~ue’ and you and I shall be one. Good night and God keep you well and happy. Many, ~any kisses, hu~s and ca~sses,- won’t you give me as ~any in r~tur~? If it were only true how happy indeed would we be. You~ own Be st regards t o all. Letter #26 Tuesday, Ma~oh ~th Dea~e st Girl, First of all, my darling, good luck and best wishes for you~ b~thday a~niversa~y which comes March 2~th. I do hope you ce~bFate it in the best of good ~alth a~ ~ppiness and t~t t~ yea~ to come will be ~ost ~Jo~ful of all yo~ li~e. And, dearest, may we be to~et~r to ~lp w~n you~ 1~1~ anniversary ~olls a~o~d.


I do w~h I could be with you to ~Ip celebrate,
~oei~d a World’s Work, Every Week, and S~da~ pictu~s f~om you an~ ~hank you again. See~ as tho~h ~’~ always th~i~ you. I can do so little for you. ~ven fo~ y~ bi~t~ay I can’t get to any p~oe I san buy a decent gift for you,- do you ~ind waiti~ a bit fo~ it, Nina? T~ isn’t ~.h ~ws. It’s 10:30 P.M. ~d I’~ sitting in a ~o~able c~ir by th~ fire in o~ aess~oom in t~ ~ohool. ~ot~ ~e~ican docto~ is sitti~

but t~t’s ~ossible. But ~ve a ~ood t~, dea~.

Love, War, and Medicine


next to me writin~ to his New York wife. An Irish doetot is studyin~ PTench. The other eight of us have gone to bed. Since dinner they have been clustered around, telling yarns and Jokes. And you can imagine, Nina, when eleven doctors, including three A~ericans, an Australian, a Canadian, an Irishman and a Scot and the rest English, get together, not all the ya~ns would grace a d~awing roo~. I’m afraid doctors a~e the worst ~en in the world in that respect - bar, perhaps, trayelln~ salesmen (no reflection intended on Clarence and Harry). But we’re an awfully Jolly lot and we have a good t i~e. Have been to school two days now and am enjoying the course immensely. Chiefly lectures on differer~ aspects of militar~y surgery and demonstrations of how to put on splints. The lecturers are British medical officers, captains- to colonels. The others have now gone to bed and left me alone in the big messroom. An empty chai~ is beside me by the stove. Won’t you come over and occupy it? Or, better yet, wouldn’t you rather share mine with me? Piease slt on my lap and nestle up to me. Put your face close to mine and your arms around ~e and hold me tight. That’s right. Do you love me very mush? Dear Ntna, I’m awfully lonesome for you. I love ~ou so much. I grudge every minute that separates us. Dearest, when the war is over, we’ll be very happy, won’t we? I shall Just give n4vself to you, and I know you will ~he nice to me, won’t you? I want to kiss you ¯any times,- good morning, good noon, good afternoon, good evening, and good night - and then some more. And I Just want to love you with all my heart and soul. The weather has turned nice once more after some snow and rain. Also, it’s a bit warmer than it was yesterday. As for war, there isn’t any around here. Bought a nice new pair of leather leggings from the British ordnance and also a pair of spurs. My gee is so slow I even have to keep kicking her to get her to trot. A touch of a spur now and then will do much to overcome her laziness. The other leggings I had are worn out. Dearest, the electric light has gone out and I only have a wee bit of candle here to let me find my way to bed. So must close with all Ny deepest and strongest love. Your own

Saturday, March 9 Not much news except the clock went up one hour (~aylight savings). The next day left for P~ronne by

Love, War, and Yedic ine


aoto~ mabulanoe - this for ~y course in az~y sanitation. P~ronne is a small city Just like Bapau~e - it is almost eo~pletely ~utned, even the chureh. Monday, March 11 A nice day. The course here is fair; the demon° strations on sanitation are excellent, but the lectures not too ~,ood. Wednesday, March 13 Finished the course at noon and by motor coaches Given

to Ha~ and then back to the battalion at Vllleselve.
a new

this t~ne with a fine ~an, Padre Watson.

March 7 Dea~ Folks, Received two delayed letters from Paul, those of JanuL~y ~th and 22nd. Awfully glad to hear from the kid as I thought he had forgotten about me. Paul ~ites about entering business instead of a profession. Is that his decision? If he intends in8 to eollege, hels foolish to d~op Latin. He should take both Latin and l~rench or German, if possible all three. Paul wants a subject for a ten-page the~e. I wouldnlt write on any subJec~t~ that he knows nothing about from personal observation, hence the subject he susgests ~F~enoh prison camps~ is out of his experience.

If I were he, I’d write on some such subject as ’The High Sehool Cadets of Chicago’ and their work.

again, he might write on experlenoes of his brother

and quote excerpts from any of my letters home. Have no doubt he could fix up ten pages falrly well. Those two pictures (small ones) I sent you were taken in a little ~uined village Just back of the line in Prance, not in Gr~at Britain as Paul says. I mean the ones with the tin hat and the campaign hat. By the way,

the latter is no longer official for overseas troops,you wear the cap when back, the new overseas chapeau (I have one - a soft affair with no peak) when with United States troops and the steel helmet when in

near the line.

Page 279 Love, War, and ~edicine

Also a wonderful photograph of the big Church in the
city of Albert (Somme region of France), hit by German g~nf ire IP~-IPlT.

ALBERT (Somme) Basdique d’Albert (c6i~ ouest mo,s de bombardemento B~ih~ of Alb~rI after ,moath~ of bombardment.

Lo~e, War, and Medicine

Following Page 279

Peronne, France, pretty well ruined by German gunfire ( 191~-1917 ). Had course in Sanitation here March iP18.

Love, War, and Medicine


Paul is naturally very proud of his plunging ability: Yes, I saw his name in the paper before he sent his cutout to me. But Just wait till I get back. I’ll skin him to death. Got a whole pile of Chicago Tribunes, a Saturday Evening Post, and a medical Journal in today’s mail. A couple of days ago, I received, along with those two of Paul’s, letters from Aunt Helen, Mildred, Sam and one from Florine Brenner, nee Forster. Also received a pair of socks from Berenice Ladewick - she certainly is good to me. There’s not much news about here. I’m still at school - four days have passed and six more to go. The lectures and demonstrations have been good, especially those on splints and on poison gases. Also had a good demonstration today by the matron (head nurse) of this hospital - she showed how the patients were cared for. She gave a good talk in a most delightful Scotch accent,- I do like to listen to that accent,Just like Harry Lauder’s. After a day and a half of snow and cold, the weather has once more turned glorious and overcoats are not ne ce s sary. My battalion has moved to another small village nearby. My barman walks over every other day and gets my mail. Sunday morning the whole school moves to another town about fifteen miles away for a three-day course in sanitation. Did that draft for $400 come? I sent it February 6th from Boulogne (Cox & Co.) to Joe. Also sent you some large photos. Well, have umpteen other letters to write, so close with lots of love to all of you. Affect ionately~ Lee Letter #27 Sunday, March 13 My darling Nina, To say I was disappointed today would be to put it mildly. It’s eight days since I heard from you and I did expect one letter, at least, today. But no such luck. And so I:00 A.M. finds me very lonesome for you. To make matters worse, tomorrow morning or, rather, this morning, our class is moving for four days to another town and 1,11 get no mail at all during this time. That will be at least twelve days without one line from you, and you can Just bet I’ll be glad to return to my unit once more, and eagerly devour the letters I know will be awaiting me. The weather has turned glorious once more and the slight snowfall of two dayS’ duration has disappeared.

Love, War, and Medicine


Once more the sun shines brightly each day and the weather is warm and dry. Every day we walk to the adJacent town and visit the few small stores it boasts of. About all they sell is post cards - hence the abundance of those enclosed. Also enclosed is a clipping from a medical Journal - what do you think of the poem? Personally, I think it’s written by someone who has never been out here. Yesterday a Lieutenant Gillette, from Baltimore, and I were walking alon~ the road when we spied a Ford car with two young ladies in it. We went over to inspect it and found the letters R.C.U.S. and S.C.R.U. on the car. That aroused our curiosity, so we inquired of one of the girls the meaning of these letters. She answered Red Cross United States and Smith College Relief Union e Believe me, we were very glad to see two honest-to-goodne ss American girls once more, - it ’ s a long time since I saw one. Neither was very beautiful, but they conversed most pleasantly. One was from Chicago, so I asked her wouldn’t she like some chop suey and ice cream and she said she was dying for some. Unfortunately, thos~ two are not to be had out here. These two girls were doing relief work among French civilians, had been out since last August and were enjoying themselves. One drove the car. It was with regret we had to tear ourselves away after a pleasant half-hour’s conversat ion. The clock went up an hour at II:00 P.M. as it’s the beginning of French summer time, so I lost one hour of In today’s papers I see that service chevrons are permitted - one gold chevron on the left sleeve for each six months in war zone. So yours truly is one and will get same as soon as possible. Dearest, it’s 1:30 A.M. and I must get up early for we’re moving. So good night, my own sweetheart and God be with you. Please bend over and kiss me good night, not once, but many times for I love you most dearly and devotedly and with all my heart and soul. Good night, Nina - may I dream of you? Your own boy, Lee March llth Dear Folks, Am writing this wee note in the crowded reading room of the officers’ club in the town I’m in for a few days. About forty-fifty officers are lounging about, reading the Daily Mail or the London Times or other English papers and periodicals. There is a pretty rotten piano and someone insists on torturing it. He is grinding out ’A Perfect Day.’

Love, War, and Medicine


Well, it has been almost a perfect day. It has been almost llke summer today, with a real warm sun and clear as possible. Actually perspired a bit. It really looks as thoug~ winter is over out here. Of course, it was not a perfect day for no days will be perfect until this war is over and I’m once more back with us all united. But it was as near a perfect day as is possible out here. There are only one and one-half days of school left. Today we had lectures and demonstrations on camp sanitation. It was very interesting and enlightening to me. The eleven of us taking this course are all quartered at this officers’ club. This is the best building left in the to~n - every other place was totally demolished by the Boche before they retreated. This place was only damaged. The rooms upstairs (for sleeping) are called the ’Blue Room,’ the ’Grey Room,’ the ’Buff Room,’ etc.,- I don’t know why as they all look alike - Just bare rooms with a lot of single beds and a couple of chairs and a few candles - that’s all. Our group is all in one room and last night the music was great. The Scot in our bunch snored in the key of G. and the Australian in high C. All in all it was a wonderful contest, but I handed the prize to the Scot whose snoring was particularly loud, deep and sonorous. Their duet finally lulled me to sleep.

The washing arrangements are also primitive. There eight granite pans with water (cold) in them. I got
up fairly early and managed to get through before the rush began. When that started, you saw several chaps trying to wash out of the one bowl. Sure was one grand scramble. I’m using the club stationery - how do you like it? I’ve certainly sent you all varieties of paper and envelopes, haven’t I? I’m still loaded up for many months with stationery, so send no more till I let you know. Don’t forget to send me that baseball stuff if you haven’t already. There goes another chap to torture the poor old piano. He’ s slaughtering the ’Humoresque. ’ My mandolin is back with my unit, so I can’t Join in and keep up the massacre. There are any number of American engineers in and about this town. They are always strolling along the streets in groups of four-five and stopping in at every wee shop and buying out these places. At one shop I saw several of them, one an old chap who had the Philippine and Guban decorations on his chest, buying a lot of perfume and sprinkling it all over the place. But they’re a fine looking lot. One of the chaps came over with Pershing last May.

is a long room with a lon8 table on which are about

Love, War, and Medicine


Well, enough now.

Please give m~ love to a11.

Affect ionate ly,

March 12 Dearest Girl, Am up in my room at the officers’ club in another town from the one I wrote you last. It’s i0:00 P.M. and this big room is empty save for one officer who is snoring most melodiously. This room has twelve beds in it and so crowded you hardly have room enoug~ to stand up between the beds. This town was once one of the fairest and loveliest of towns. It never was a business city, but was inhabited especially by wealthy people. The Boche captured it in IPI4 and held it till British pressure made them evacuate it last spr~ng. But, before they left, they proceeded ~thod~cally~tc demolish the place. The~ razed every building to the ground (except this one~, chiefly by bombing. Even the church was not spared - it lies a mass of crumbled rock - the altar lies exposed. The ruins are walled off by the French government, and there is a sign up forbidding anyone to touch the ruins as the French intend to keep them intact as an endurin~ testimonial to Hun frightfulness. And truly the Boche do conduct war most savagely. I will send you a book of postcard views of what’s left of this town. The course I’m on now is on sanitation covering especially camp cleanliness and water supplies. It has been very good. It is over tomorrow noon, then I go back and rejoin my unit - I’m very anxious to do that as I’m confident that I’ll find some news and loving words from my own girl. A couple of days ago I sent you a scarf that I bought in a little French souvenir shop in this town. Dearest, I know it is not nearly as nice a gift as I should like to send to you, but that’s the best this town boasts of,- you see, it’s practically all ruins and there are only a few, tiny, patched-up stores. But, anyway, Nina, wear it with the best of health and all my love. Darling, I have been requested to put this candle out as it annoys some fellows trying to sleep. So must close with fondest and deepest devotion and many, many kisses and hu~s. Yours only, P.S. Regards to the folks and Stella.


Love, War, and Hedlcine


Letter #29 Wednesday, March 13 My dearest Nina, For eleven days I waited for letters from you. Each day I lon~ed to hear from the nicest girl I ever met. I grew very anxious as the days went by. I wrote you yesterday how confident I was that I would find at least one letter from you when I rejoined my battalion. And, darling girl, my confidence was not misplaced. I found, not one, but six of the gems of creation, six missives of the most eloquent and wonderful tale of love. Dearest, you have opened your heart to me even more than before. You tell me simply, yet so charmingly and so beautifully and so sincerely, that I have won your heart and that you are willing and anxious to give yourself to me, as I am to you. Your letters were assorted, to say the least, as those which arrived were #4, 8, i0, 13, I~ and an extra (a card) of February 21st. Where the missing letters are I don’t know, but they’ll probably straggle in. In addition to those, I had already received #i, 2, 3, and 5. No, I have not received your #6 which you say is most important and demands immediate reply. Isn’t it peculiar, dear, that my letter #6 to you, the one I also wrote with special care and wanted an early ~reply,isn’t it peculiar that you hadn’t received that one either? Please let me know if it has come as it’s most imp oft ant. No, I didn’t know Major Hardie had been awarded the D.S.O. (Distinguished Service Order). But he deserves it. He’s a fine fellow. Very few officers under the rank of major get that decoration in the B.E.F. You curious child, you want to know what A1 and I said about you when we met in Paris. Well, A1 opened by saying Stella had intimated that I was dead gone on her best friend, meaning you; and was that right, he asked me. I answered yes, it was. He asked if it was that serious and I said it was. Curiously, he then asked me the same question you once did: was I sure that it wasn’t the fact that I was lonesome and that yot~r letters supplied a missing link that made me think I loved you when in reality I loved the letters and--~ the girl? I hope I succeeded in persuading him that the girl and not the letters was the magnet. No, I didn’t tell him that anything positive had arisen - in fact, I believe I kept him guessing a bit. He offered me no advice whatsoever, so did not influence me in the least. Yes, dear, A1 and I had wonderful weather while in Paris. The sun was up every day and it was fairly warm. No, I don’t know what Professor Vibbard of

Love, War, and ~edicine

Michigan teaches - probably political science. Also sorry to say I can’t play ’The Meditation of Thais,’ though I love it. I wonder if playing it on the mandolin would spoil it. I might try. While I think of it, dear, would you mind sending me one of those papercovered volumes of old-time songs of all nations - you know the kind such as ’Old Kentucky Home, ’ ’Annie Laurie,, etc. Or have I asked you already? I really don’t remember. Just as small a book as possible as space is a valuable thing in my kit. Yes, darling, you need have no fears concerning ~y recent trip to Paris. AI and I behaved ourselves all the time, and l’m certain we came back as clean in mind and body as when we arrived there. I’ii admit it wasn’t always easy sailing. Yes, dearest, some day, if all goes well, you and I will tour France, Just we two, and we won’t miss Paris, I can assure you. I heartily agree to enter into that dieting compact you suggest with you as my nurse and I as your doctor. I sure will like the regular prescription of hugs and kisses you’re going to make me take. I want you as my nurse for life, dearest. You speak of some resolution not to write me any loving words till I answer a certain letter. I gather that’s your #6. As I haven’t that, l’m very puzzled but I do beg you not to stop writing me your sweet words. They are my substitute for your most kissable llps. You mention shampooing your hair. Won’t you please give over that Job to me when I get back? To run my fingers through your lovely strands would be most pleasant - at least to me. l’m back with my unit as I said before. The course l’ve been on these last ten days is now over, and I came back by motor ambulance this afternoon - a distance of about thlrty-five kilometers - about twenty-five miles. The roads were terribly dusty, otherwise the warm sun would have made the trip very enjoyable. When I rejoined, I found my battalion in the village next to the one we were in when I left for the school. This village is even smaller than the last, but is not at all bad. I have a nice comfy bed in a room next to the messroom (from where l’m now writing). Our new padre, Padre Watson (Irish Episcopalian), Just come out, shares the room (but not the bed) with me. I am indeed glad to get back as l’ve been four and one-half months now with this battalion and l’m very fond of it. On the whole, the course was good, especially some of the sanitary demonstrations - for example, how to make a stovepipe out of a biscuit tin or hinges out of a nail and some tin, how to make flyproof meat-safes and incinerators and grease traps. It’s remarkable what scope there is out here for ingenuity.

~ve, War, and Medicine


I received some other letters also; one from Stella she also reviews ’Flo-Flo’ - that must be some show. I don’t believe you’d want me to see it, now, w-----6uld you? Also heard that my brother Ed is on the first call for overseas - perhaps he’s on the way over now. Now, I have a confession to make to you. When I was in England in July, I met a very nice looking English glrl in Woolwich; I was introduced to her by another American doctor. I took her out after that two-three times. Nothing serious between us at all--merely friends. But this girl and I have written each @ther a few letters since. Then, when I began to realize how strongly I loved you and that you returned my devotion, I wrote to her and told her not to write me any more letters such as she had been (rather too affectionate to sui.t me) as I was in love with a wonderful New York girl. Today I got her reply - she congratulated me, then said she was practically engaged to an English officer, and ended by expressing her wish to conti~nue to be my friend and nothing but my friend. Nina, this is a confession, isn’t it? I would never have dreamed telling anyone else but you such a tale. But I want no secrets between us. This girl is a very respectable girl, though a bit too amorous. What do you think about this episode? I want your honest opinion. Another confession. When A1 and I were in Paris, we kidded along the girl who worked at the photographer’s into sending her pictures to us. In addition, she has sent me two letters. The photo I gave to my barman I don’t know what he did with it. The letters are unanswered. Isn’t it a shame to treat girls like that? Girls should not be so free to hand out photos or send letters. Our mess president goes on leave to Ireland tomorrow and I’m elected once more. He handed me over all the cash (sixteen francs) in the treasury. So once more I’m to be the purchaser of foods and chief cook and bottle washer. Valuable training,, eh? Dearest girl, I’m awfully lonesome for you. Somehow I feel as though I had known you all my life. You have become very, very dear to me and oh! so precious. I would rather have you, Just you, than all the wealth and fame in the world. To have you near me, to hear your voice, to clasp you very tightly and kiss you each morning, noon and night and in-between-times - that is what I’m longing for. I want you very badly - all of you - body and soul. And I want to offer myself entirely to you with no reservations whatsoever. I don’t know what the definition of that magic word ’love’ is, but if it means that I’m very fond of you, that I want you all the time, that I want to kiss and fondle you, that I want to spend all my days with you,

Love, War, and Medicine

that I want no secrets between us, that your considerations and health far outweigh mine,- well, I’m positively certain I love you dearl~ and wholeheartedly. Midnight now - sick parade 8:00 A.M. You see I must get some sleep. But, dearest sweetheart, I do want to take you in my a~ms and hold you tight Jand Just kiss you over and over again - in other words to say ~eed night to you as I want to. But I must be content with kissing you~ picture and crawlir~ into bed and saying a short prayer for you. ’Bonne nuit,’ my dear, and I hope I may d~eam of With many, many kisses and hu~s and ~y everlasting l@ve and devotlon, I am Ever yeurs, Lee Kindest regards to all including Stella. Thursday, March 14 Two sick parades again, ours and that of the 21st ]~ntr~lehing Battalion, then sanitary inspection. Then rode to Ham and inspected Companies A and B. Incidentally, a fine bath at Corps Station and some bridge that night with British officers. Saturday, March 16 My birthday today (27), but my usual two sick parades plus a labou~ group. Also took care of an old lady with a broken elbow. That night I wrote a most important letter to l~ina K. Sunday, March 17 A fine day and I slept till P:30 A.M. fera charge. It waa St. Patriek,s Day amd our unit, even theu~h chiefly frem Ulster (Northern Ireland) was celebrating with all sorts of battalion sports; I was the Judge. Some of the

Lovo, War, end Modi~ino

co~etltion was very keen. The ever, was a ten course dinner.

erownin8 celebration, how-

Friday, March Dear Folks, Many thanks for your congratulations on ny birthday tomo~ow. I wish I could be ho~e to eelebrate it with you, but let’s hope I’ll be there for the next one, anyway. Hark ! Ou~ band is ~archin~ by. The y’ re about twenty strong and all dr~A~s and piecolos. The~ play very well and I like to listen to them. Dr. Gauss, who went to school and to Cook County Hospital with ~e and who ca~e out here in October, has been t~ansferred fro~ the B.E.F. to the ioan Expeditionary Force). They aA-e transferring fifty a month and ~y turn will probably co~e in the next few weeks. But I’m not anxious to be transferred as I like wh~re I a~. A~ having a very easy t i~e, eo~parat ively speaking. School is over,- quick work, oh? And I~m back enos mo~e with ~y battalion. He’ve moved still further bask and if I didn’t read the papers, I wouldn’t know the~e was a war on. It’s extremely quiet and peaceful ha~e. Never hear a shot. We’re in a little French village whieh has a few civilians in it - chiefly children and old folks. We have most eo~o~table quarters. I*m writing this in ou~ big dining reo~. The weather eontinues glorious - war~ and sunny every day. This afternoon about six of us took out a football and we had about a half hour’s strenuous woFkeut kieking the oval around. The Fmglish ~ugby, though, is entirely different from ours. They play with fifteen on a side - no substitutes allowed - you kick the ball from one to the other instead of th~owin~ it. Had a nice feu~ mile horse-ride yesterday. I now have a pair of spurs (also a new pai~ of le~gin~s~ and I ~ake the old horse travel now. £~ getting along first rate at the art. It’s good exercise. Received Ed’s photo and it’s gr~at - by far the best pietu~ he ever took. He looks fine with that emepalsn hat on. Our fo~ner mess president went on leave and I’m ones more the goat. Ou~ ~ess is excellent--plenty of food - and only four and one-half francs a day each about eighty cents. Of course, that’s fo~ extras only - the British government supplies us with rations~ ~eat, bread, butter, sugar, potatoes, etc. The fou~

Love, War, ~d ~edioLne

and one-half franos goes for moz~ potatoes, cakes, r~d wine (I don’t d~Ink It), soda water, f~ults, sauces, etc. - so~t of appetlsers. So we have exeellent meals. I have a fine room next door to this dining room. There ar~ two beds there and the Padre and I use them. BoOs a youn~ chap, an ~plsoopallan, Just out. We have a lot of fun kidding h~a, Just as I was kidded duping my first few days out here. Ou~ mess is very small only fou~: the major in command, Major Lewis (eu~ Colonel is homo on leave), the Padre, Lieutenant Branford (Assistant Adjutant) and I. All in all, we llve in the lap of luxury. Haven’t heard f~om Ed in some time and am a bit anxious to know ~here he is. From what Sarah sald,he’s on the f~st eall to oome over. Is that right? Well, no mo~e today. Lots of love to all of you. Affe et ionat ¯ Lee P.8. Mall Just oame and the mess orderly staggered in with my sha~e. Two letters from ]~d--he’s fine, he says; a lette~ f~om Mr. Barnett ; soar papers; and three splendid paroels, two from you and one from Mar~e and ~oe. You~ two had sandy and oookies in them and I surely do thank you. Tasted some and they’re stoat. They ease in r~markably good oondltlen, too, as they were paokod in tins. The one from Yarle and ~oe oontalned Jolly, sardines and more ooekles. We had asso~ted samples for tea and enjoyed all these good things. Onoe mo~e I’ll oleos with love and gratitude.
Letter #30 Satumday, Jfar~h 16 Iy darling girl, Fou~ more of your letters have oomo, dearest, ineluding #6, the one you said was most impo~tant. The others ar~ #~ and #15, and a card_of Feb~ua~ 18th. So that to date I hayo all from 1 15 ex@ept #11 and 12. And I thoroughly enjoy them--every one is very dear to You do not mention having received n~ letter #6 a most critical one as it dealt ehiefly with worldly matters, eepeelally financial. Your letter #6 is alse most orltieal and I don’t think I should answer it until I received your answer to ~y #6. It isn’t exactly fair to you to do so, but as I know how anxious you a~e to get a ~eply, I’ll do my best. I-have never ~ead so wonderful a letter as your #6 is. It aotually hold8 me spellbound. And to think that its author belongs to me - I surely am lucky. You have asked me to be you~ Father Confessor and I aoeept on@e m@~o. Fi~st of all, I hope affairs at

Love, War, and Medicine


the office are once more progressing alon~ smoothly and serenely. Once more you bring up the matter of the three or four (which is it?).- I’m twenty-seven today and am colebrating most quietly) years difference in our ages. And once more and most emphatically, dearest, that difference must be ignored,- it doesn’t matter to me a particle. And as we grow older, this difference will be much less prono~nced. Anyway, what do a few years count in such a loyal love as ours is? I don’t agree with you that a woman grows older quicker than a man. I don’t think there’s a particle of difference. So we’ll dismiss that argument. Your sketch of yourself is very frank and I love you all the more for being so open and truthful with me. You criticize yourself for being extravagant and with kitchen inaptitude. Both of those are trivial faults and can be remedied easily. Your tale of how at first I was a mere cousin to you and how my uniform attracted you and how finally you fell in love with me and not my uniform relieves my mind of a great weight. I am very happy to know you love me and not the soldier I am at present. And I do reali~ and appreciate the affection you lavish on one so unworthy of you. Then once again you bring up my family and their plans for me. ~hy, dearest, after the first natural surprise (they are in complete ignorance regarding our affection), they will receive you as one of them in the most welcome and Joyful manner. They all love you already. So don’t worry about them. My letter #6 was written on January 18th and a few days later the S.S.Andania was sunk with mail to United States. Perhaps that and other letters written about that time are at the bottom of the sea. So, if you’ll pardon the repetition, I’ll give you some plain facts. ~ .letter ~6 ~ ~ forma! proposal ~ you and was about thirty page~ long and was almost certainly sunk with the S.S.Andania. This letter #30 is really my ~___e~eat proposal_ and I hope you ’r~’oeive itiFirst of all, Nina Kleinman, I love you with all my heart and soul, and, if you will consent, I wantyouou for m_~ wife Sweetheart, after this war iF o--~ ~ I re--~rn, won’t you come with me and share my home, whatever that may be? My love, like yours, has come on very gradually. ¯ q~en you visited Chicago in 1911, I paid no more than the merest cousinly attention to you. And when I reached New York, I greeted you in true cousinly fashion. But you were so kind to me in my brief stay there that I became very grateful. We corresponded after that. O~r letters became more and more affectionate, less and less cousinly. Gradually we each came to know we loved the other. This love has grown by leaps and bounds until I, for one, cannot do without you. My heart calls for you and my arms are longing to clasp

Love, Nat, and Yedi~ine


you to ms, ohl so tlghtly and my llps Just want to meet yours again and again. Girl, I’m entirely yours. I’m clay for you, the sculptress, to cold as you will. But, bofo~ you oo~ to a decis~on, ~ead ~a~fully w~t foll~8 - s~ of t~ t~ials you will moot as my wife. First of all, you’re in ~ew Yo~k ~ I’m in ~~. Y~ ~o~Id ~ar is on; it ~a been going, eve~ t~ee and o~-~ ~a~s; f~om t~ looks of thins, it might E@ on t~e ~d o~-~if years mo~ or even lo~e~. Y~ people in United States continually ta~ peace - t~ oan be no peace at this t~ except t~ peace of ~t. Y~ ~aee ta~ you ~ar in ~ew York is ~ndocbtedly foste~d by t~ Ger~ns in order to de~y o~ war p~epa~atlons as much as possible. ~t he~ we know t~t as It stands t~ay, ~ny ~s at least gai~~draw. ~e ~ deela~d no peace without co, fete victor. Obviously, t~n, t~ war must go on. ~e~ny must ~ beaten If llfe is to ~ worth while. So you see, desist, hew ~ai~ It will ~ for you to wait one, two, t~ee or fou~ o~ even more years for ~. So~ ~n ~y o~ a~ong wh~ you ~y love and need n~ wait for. So ~ don’t want to bi~ you. If, after t~ war, you are free ~d still of t~ same mind~ we will ~ married. ~f~ on t~ ot~r ~d, you find a better man t~ I, mealy ~ite ~ ~d I will release you ~d go on lovi~ you Just the a~. In any case, dearest, if yoc accept me, it will be far better to do so in sn info~al way. I want you, wh~le I’m away, to go out aa often as possible, to enJoy yo~s@If in eve~ way, to ~o o~t with ~n as well as wo~n. You ~s~ do this to keep y~ ~a~th. An a~ouneed en~age~ would ~ Inadvisab~ for two ~aaons~ f~stly, because after said ~nocncement you could not go out so f~ely as befog; secondly, ~ God wills ~ ~ver to return to t~ United States (I m~st look ahead), I want no bar to stand between you and some future marriage. The second point for you~ most careful consideration is financial. As I wrote in that apparently illfated letter #6, financially I’m a ’broker.’ We can’t llve on love alone. My total resources to date are about $600 in a bank in Chicago; about $~00 in a bank in Boulogne; two paid up years of a ~5,000 policy; a ~lO,O00 policy Just taken out from the government that’s all. Against this I owe ~I,000 to my grandmother and give ~25 a month to my mother. There you have it clearly and truthfully. ¯hen I get back, I shall start in practice again in Chicago as before. I have a good many friends and relatives, but it will be several years before I will

Love, 1~ar, and Yedioine


be able to support you as I’d like to. I believe T san boFrow easily, but don’t l~ke to unless absolutely neoessaFy. Zn any ease, p~ogFess will be very slow. The third polnt is that a do~tor’s w~fo is not an enviable position. The doctor is subject to call at any time. The more he prospers, the more e~atio he will necessarily become at meals, etc. The wife will cuss many a time because the soup gets cold and the meat spoiled. The telephone may Jingle at any t~me, day or night. Theatres and dances and pa~ties are nooossaFily infrequent and often inter~uptod. Jealousy ha8 no place in a doctor~ s wife - he must attend othoF women when called. The doctor bolong~-~’~ medleal societies which he should attend about once a week or so. N~na, think well before you consent to sacrifice you~ freedom, even you~ identity. A doctoPVs wife, unless very exceptional, is merely known as the dootoPts wife, seldom as Mrs. Brown or J~s. Jones. If you consent, know that many a time will come when you will doubt the wisdom of mapping me, when some affair you long to attend must suddenly be stricken off the list. ~o give this point your most intelligent study. Fou~hly, you will have to leave New York, motheF, you~ brothers and their wives and children and you~ best fFiend, Stella. You will have to give up you~ pleasant business life and the fPiendships and acquaintances the~e made. FoP I cannot praatioo anywhere else than in Chicago - I mean, it wouldntt be best fop m~. £nd.lastly, dearest, T know I’m not woFthy of you. You a~e so pu~o and so lovely no man is good enough fop you. Please ~ead and roPead these points Just noted befo~o you make up you~ mind. If you think you*d betteF not decide till after the war, or if you decide no, will say no more - Z will raise no objections. still love you as before, hoping that fate will sot matters Fight. But if, after eaFefully considering those possible objections, you still think you love me enough to mart7 me, you will make me supFemely happy. Be assu~od l shall love you all my life. You and shall be partners in ever~thir~, on equal footing in all ~ospoct8. I shall do my best to make you eomfoz~ablo and to permit you to enjoy lifo. And, girl of mine, z will p~otoot you with all my strength tensif~od by devotion. If you finally decide, ~et me know, one way oF the otheP, ~diatel~. If you accept, please keep it to ye~self until’ we both deelde when to announce eu~ engagement. As I said before, an infernal one - Just an a~j-eement between you and me will, in my opinion, be much better for the pFesent, at least, than a forreal one. We might call it a sort of understandi~.

Love, War, and Mediofne


I am not a poet. I cannot, with one sweep of ~y pen, paint vivid pictures of the-rosy future. I am uttoFly ineapable of tolling you what a hold you have on me, hoe I ado~e you, how each mo~ning and night I kiss yeu~ pkoto with fewer, and how I long to kiss you instead, how I long to see you once mo~e and nevoF pa~t again. I shall slave very ha~d fo~ you, dearest. It is i~ A.M. Before flnlshln~, I want to toll you bPiefly the little news the~e is. The sweate~ yeu’~e making fo~ ms must have been a g~eat task and I do appreciate the loving stitches you sewed. But, deaF, I have three sweaters al~eady - all fPem ~elatives - please hold yours till next autumn ~enind ms about ~eptembe~ and I’ll let you know what nonth to sand it. You won’t mind doing that? My birthday has passed ~ueh as othe~ days. I ~eceived many eongratulato~y letters from the folks ineludlnK Ed. Also got two paPeels of goodies fPom my ~othe~ and Marie, and we’ve been banquet in~ all day. I ~ede about twenty miles today as the weathe~ was love ly. It is al~eady St. Pat~iek’s Day and ou~ battalion, being I~ish, will natu~ally have big celebrations this afternoon. All kinds of t~ack and he~se ~aees a~e seheduled. I’m erie of the Judges. Dearest, I must say good night. Please let me kiss you many times - so! Thank you. I’ll now c~awl into bed and blew out the lamp. Please answeP immediately. With all mY love, darling, and all ~y devotion, I am Yours only Lee
Monday, Marsh 18th A nice day. Put in application fo~ p~omotion, and a nlee oonoo~t given by twenty "soldiers in Companies D and C. Wednesday, Ma~eh 20th We gave Lieutenant Long a farewell pa~ty as he has been t~ansfeF~ed. CoFporal Henz~y of D Company is down with measles.

Love, War, and Medicine


March 2Oth Dea~e st Nina, X don’t know whetlmr you received ~y last letter (#30) or no~. X~ wa~ easily ~ m~st i~o~an~ le~e~ I eve~ ~ote ~d one ~itten with ca~ and with eh~ed ~II of love fo~ you. Since t~n I’ve t~led to ~ite to you several ti~s, but di~’t know Just h~. U~il I get the answe~ to t~t one, I ~ally am up a t~e,--I don’t know w~t to w~ite. Please don’t thi~ I’m in love with you a bit less t~ befog. Pa~ f~om t~t, I l~e you mo~e t~n eve~. My system is Just loaded with t~ fondes~ of ~otion fo~ t~ lovel~eJt ~i~l in the w~ld. As you once said, the love is oozing out of my eyes and I’m liable to burst with pent-up emotion. So, please, dearest, answer that letter as soon as you get it and relieve my suspense. Nothing very exciting has happened lately. Last Sunday was St. Patriekts Day and our battalion, being Irish, celebrated the event in great style. There were all so~ts of athletic events in the afternoon, including 100 yard dash, 880 yard ~un, broad and high Jumps, tugs of war, mule races, herse races, etc. The mule race was very funny as the animals were extremely obstinate and half of them wouldn’t run at all. I was one of the three Judges - can you imagine me a dignified Jute? The afternoon passed away ve~-pleaaantly. For dinner, I, as mess president, put on a swell dinner - ten ourses - count ’era. First was hors d’oeuvres (I think that’s spelled right), then soup, then fried plaice (a fish), then poached egg on spinach, roast beef with baked potatoes, and cauliflower, peach pie, a savory of fish and cheese, then coffee, fruit and cigarettes. For d~inks there were whiskey, red wine and lemonade and soda water,- the lemonade was Just my size. I~o lack of food out here, I can tell you. Horse-riding is becoming more and more my middle name. Can you picture me galloping down the roads with my gallant charger, holding t~e reins loosely in my left hand, a~d swinging my broad campaign hat in my right? No, I’m not that good yet, but I’m getting along first rate. Have been riding about ten miles a day lately. Yesterday I applied for promotion, but I’m not sure I’ll get it. A circular ca~e around discouraging promotion of doctors under thirty-one except for very distinguished conduct or for very exceptional services. My commanding offleer therefore ~ave me a dandy mendation for gallantry during the Cambrai stunt - of course, it was far overdrawn - I didn’t act half as bravely as he said I did. He went into a long rhapsedy

Love, War, and Medic

about my d~essing the wounded under shellfir~ in an open tPench after havin~ my aid post struck by t~ee s~lls. T~t was t~ - ~ did ~ss some cases ~e~ s~llf~, though n~ too ~av~ a fi~, and ~ a~d post was pa~ially demolis~d by thee shells. But wasn’t a~h~ng ~otc about t~ whole ~fa~,- t~ ~n e~ alo~ to ~ dPessed and I ~essed t~m. Spe~t~ of t~t stunt, deaP, d~d I tell you I ~naed in a stay fop t~ New YoPk *HePald Compet~tion’ last menth~ The offe~ was ~de In t~ Paris Edition of the HeFald and t~ co~etition was lisited to of t~ United States a~, the ~d CPoss and t~ Y.M.C.A., all in ~nee. T~ limit of the st~ was to be 2,500 woPd~ of ~ poems fifty lines. T~ stoFies ~st be on so~ wap subject, i~ginaPy oP t~. T~ pPizes ape 2,000 f~anos fop t~ best sto~, 1,000 fo~ next ~st, ana 100 fPancs fop all others publis~d. T~ p~m p~ize was 1,000 fPan~s. I submitted a stoP~ abo~ a~ pa~ in t~ ~st battle and ha~ed it in ~der the nora de pl~ ~f ’~a~s Stevenson.’ So ~ on the lookout fop it. T~ tit~ is ’With the Tobies at CaebPai.’ I’m not ~eh seod as an authoP, thou~ 2,000 fPancs would look aw~lly good. ~t ~ ~ow if it’s publis~d,- I neveP see t~ New YoPk ’~eFald.’ T~ weat~P ~s t~ned rainp n~ afteP s~ sue s~y aays. But we oan,t kick at all. ~st ni~t seventeen of o~ officePs gat~d in this ~ssPoom to say ~ood-by to o~ q~e~steP who left t~s aoPni~ to t~e up anot~P Job at t~ base. ~’s a c~p by t~ ~ of Lieutenant Lo~ ~d a fell~ ~veP lived. He’s a ~n about fo~-five, ~d oveP twent~ ~aPs of sePvlce lncludin~ t~ ~Piean WaF. We p~sented hia with a ten pond ~ift. Speeches wePe made, we played lotto, Pi~s ~d ePs - all in all a go~ ti~ and I di~’t get to bed till 1:00 A.M. Could ~Pdl~ sake m~se~ get up this aoPni~ as mp bed is ext~mely coafoPtable. It’s 10:30 P.M. now. The fi~ is b~ning c~e~il~. T~ pa~ is sitting by my side also wPiting letters. In t~ distance t~ is some boomi~ of ~s, but we’re so lap back we’~ pFacticall~ out of t~ waP. ~aP, would you please ~il ~ ’Poor ButtePfly’ and ’Ni~ts of Gla~ess?’ I’m goi~ stPon~ fop aolin Just now ~d I’d like to lea~ those two. I ’~ T~,’ the one you sent ~, also t~ other one about a Lil~ in FPance - I forget t~ exact name. Is ’~eP T~Pe’ popula~ over thePe? I’m scheduled aee~pan~ with my ~dolin at t~ next concept battalion ~l~s, and I~m also d~n fop a h~oP~s Well, dearest g~l, I~m goi~ to end this now as I do wa~ so~ sleep. I onl~ wish I ~d you ~Pe to

Love, War, and Medicine


kiss you good ni~b~ as I’d like to. Oh, Nina, what I wouldn’t give to take you in my a~s~ and Just hu~ you almost-to death? Please, sweetheart, give me your lips and one le~, soul kiss. Good night, Nine, and the pleaaantest of dreams. May they be of me. Yours fervor, Lee Kindest regards to all the family and to Stella and Miss McKeon. Are my letters still mutilated? March 18 Dear Folks, First of all I want to thank you all for your many letters and congratulations. Most came right on the day of my birthday and made me feel very good, for it nlee to know you,re remembered, even though one is some ~, 000 mile s away. So Dave Homer is a captain? From all accounts, it seems the closer you are to the United States, the faster is the promotion. Those of us out here are apparently a bit ~egleeted. It doesn’t seem fair, somehow. Promotion out here is discouraged for those under thirty-oDe unless in very exceptional circumstances such as extreme bravery. My Commandin~ Officer gave me a very stron~ recommendation today and I put in an application for promotion. Here’s hoping,- AI Barnett writes he and the other original lieutenants of his unit are also applying, but he’s not sure he’ll get it. Just got back from a concert given by some of the men and officers of our battalion in a big barn here. With the assistance of the band, a variety show of twenty acts was given and given in really good style, even though candles were the only sources of illu~ination and we each had to bring our own chairs along. never thought I’d ever have te carry my own seat with me to the theatre. Am sittin~ in the messroom satin8 stuffed dates you sent me- they’re swell. It’s 11:30 P.M. It’s beautiful outside with the moon shinir~ and warm. All day it has been sunny and warm--probably about sixty or so. Had about one-half hour’s practice throwln~ a couple of tennis balls around,- for want of the baseball I’m waiting for you to send me. This afternoon the major, the padre, the assistant adjutant and I rode into the neighboring town and back (five miles each way). And it was the best and fasteat ride I ever had. We raced a good part of the way and my old nag went thunderln~ down the path and beat them all! It was most exciting.

Love, War, and Medicine


All very peaceful here. Never hear a shot. Occasionally our aeroplanes fly over head. Very rarely a Boche plane comes as far back as we are. Well, It’s late and I must get some sleep. Good night to all. Much love. Affect ionate ly, Lee

Love, War, and Medicine


Thursday, larch 21

A very exciting day.

Opening of the rather expected

Boche offensive (Battle of St. Quentin). The bombardment began at 4~/~0 A.If. Ther~ was a thickfog till noon, then it cleared. All sorts of wild rumors,but the consensus of opinion is that the Boche have scoredan initial success. I spent most of the day at the crossroads watching the immonse traffic. Some Chinese and Italian workir~ groups have been ~-unning like the dickens. The l~th Division seems to have broken. Heavy "strafing’ continued till night.
]~arch 21st Dear Folks : Have fifteen minutes to spare before dinner and so will write you a few lines. Have had no mail for about five days, so don’t know how thlr~s are at home and with Ed. However, I hope everythln~ is O.K. There isn’t a great deal of news. I suppose the papers will tell you that the Boche have made a push this morning. The bombardment began early this morning and has continued all through the day. But our battalion is so far back that we’re in a very safe place and not in the battle at all. Wild rumors are floati~ around, but the most of the news we get is that, after a brief initial gain, to be expected, the British have everywhere held fast. I expect our unit will be moving back at any time as we’re not fighting troops any longer. So, no matter how the struggle goes, we won’t


Love, War, and Medicine


be in it at all. So you need have no worries about me Of course, everyone is sittin~ tight waiting for definite news and orders. We’re all packed up ready to move at short notice. Outside of that, there’s little to say. I’m in fine health and having a very comfortable time, by far the easiest I’ve had so far. No word has come in yet about ~y transfer, though expect same any time. The dinner is on the table and a good soldier always eats when the chance offers. And in that regard, I’m a first-rate soldier. Lots of love to everyone. Will write more later. Affect ionat ely, Lee Priday, March 22 Another big day. Ou~ unit stood to till noon, then ou~ battalion took off to defend the south bank of the canal west of the town of Ham. We reached our new station at ~:00 P.M. at Canizy. Heavy firing continued all day;

the Boche seemed to be gaining slowly. Again a thick fog the next day till noon with sunshine no lunch nor tea, but a good dinner. Cross girl doing some relief work. Saturday, March 23 A most excitin~ day. At 4:00 A.M. another big German bombardment started. We all moved at once to a atone quarry about one kilometer away. I remained with Major Lewis, and I opened an aid post on the side of a small hill on the Ham-Nesle Road. The canal was being defended only by the 2nd Entrenchin~ Battalion and the Pioneers. I went up with Captain Moore to reconnoiter. Wild about 2:00 P.M. Had Met an American Red

Love, War, and Medicine


~ors all day. At noon we repulsed a heavy machine ~un attack. Bullets were whizzing all around us. Many of out" sen wor~ wo~d, ~nclud~ ~aJo~ ~wls, my Co~d~ f~oo~. We were tend~ to wounded fn o~ ve~ exposed aid post ~aF that low hi~l. A Go~ p~ flew ~i~t ove~ o~ post and a bullet h~t t~ coat of my sergeant ~xt to ~. He was not hu~, but h~s coat was. We ~d bully ~ef fer l~ch, tea ~d dinmr - nothing else except a~ c~or~-tainted water. T~ was no o~ to give me ~ders. I did not t~t Major ~wls ~d been wo~ded. I saw our ~n ret~ati~ and now we were probably in the British front li~. T~ next day, S~day, March 24, was e~n mo~ exciti~. It was so cold we could not sleep the~ on t~ grass. My sergeant, corporal, barman and I took turns of bein~ on ~ard for two ho~s each. Again a heavy fog t~t mo~ing and ~ain the Boc~ bombarded all arced us. At 9:30 A.M. the ~ns attacked a~aln from o~ left fla~. T~y launc~d this tre~ndous attack r~ht at t~ J~ction ~tween t~ British ~d t~ F~nch a~ies. T~ odds we~ too great so, after consultation with my sergeant, co, oral and baton, I, too, decided to ~t~eat along with t~ other British ~d F~nch tro~a. Bullets we~ again whistling all around us, ~d t~e B~ planes fi~d ~Ig~ at us, but we were l~ky. We wa~ed back along t~ ditches a~ the open ~ro~d ~d suddenly we

came to a large group of French soldiers lined up calmly. I felt a sudden reassurance at seeiz~ those F~ench. One of them was a physician. He was very nice and he took the four of us to Mrchaux. I offered our service to the of the 91st Field Ambulance there, but we were refused. We walked on to Roye and found the British 21st

Entrenching Division; we were refreshed by tea, then we reached our transport further back. We were all exhausted as we had walked about thirty kilometers (almost twenty mile s ). Fortunate ly, I found a bed in a tent and had a good dinner and some sleep.
Monday, }/arch 2~th As far as pa~t of this great was killed and three I was personally concerned, the active battle was over. One of our officers others wounded. ~ome French soldiers

broke, and the Boche surged toward us so we retreated back to Plesaleres; we marched from 9:00 P.}/. to 5:00 A.I. and

reached an empty house. The Boche were ill advanc st along a salient from Arras to La Fete. treat, we clearly heard gunfire in the De spite our redistance. I ob-

tained a few dressings from a French doctor. Still eatin~ bully beef. Wrote a protest to the A.D.M.S. of the 36th Division statln~ that, for the time being, the men of that division were unfit for further fighting.

War, and Mediolne


}/arch 21st Dearest Nina, This is to be merely a short note to relieve any worries you ~ay have about me. By ~ pa~rs, yeu will see ~ ~ Boo~ ~ve ~de ~Ir e~ec~ed offensive ~hls aorni~. I ~ve ~ard only ~he vague s~ ~aors and really know ve~ li~ abou~ ~ whole ~fair. ~ I do kn~ is ~ a~ abou~ ~:30 A.~. ~oday, I was aw~nod by t~ heaviest oannonad~ s~e ~ho ~a~rai st~. I i~dtately tho~ht t~t t~ Boo~ ~d sta~ed t~ir ~ive. All day since t~t ho~, firt~ ~s continued at g~at intensitZ and o~ boys seem to ~ ~i~i~ t~ at least as good as we’~ gettin~. ~ battalion is so far ba~ t~t we’~ not in t~ battle at all. All the firi~ is distant from us. ~ors are fl~ti~ arced. 3o~ say we’ve ~ld fast; s~ say t~ Boo~ ~ve ~d an initial brief ~oooss and ~ve si~e been ~ld. At any rate we’re fully p~pa~d to co~ with t~m. ~ battalion is all pa~d up, ready to ~ove at a short notice. A~ tf we move, we moYe ba~k as we an entrenoh~n~ battalion and no lon~e~ a ’flghti~ ~it. So ~ no worries abo~ ~. T~ most of t~ay I’ve stood at the crossroads watchin~ with t~ tre~ndous traffic on ~in road. French civilians ~ve ~en movi~ back carrying as ~ch of t~ir effects on their ~nny little wa~ons as possible. It is pitiable to see the~ leavi~ t~ir ho~s, but I’ve never ~ard one of t~ ~ble. The French, ~en and wo~n and children, ~ar pri~atio~ and ~dshtpe with the ~reatest fo~itude I’ve ever seen. T~y all say ’c’est la ~erre,’ and ne~er plain at all. Chinese ~d ot~r la~or corps have also been ret~attng, ~ett~ out of t~ way to ~e room for f~hti~ troops. And battalion ~ter battalion of i~ant~ and ca~al~ have been ~rchtn~ past all day lo~, ready for t~ fray tomo~ow,- these are ~oing forward to reinforce o~ line troops. No ~il ca~ in today ~d I was ~ch disappointed. HoweYer, I hope f~ better luck tomorrow. ~arest, it’s almost mi~l~ht. Thinss are very quiet now. Firin~ has ceased. A thick fog is outside co,wring ever~hi~. ~leep is esse~tal, so ~o~ add God ~ with you. Don’t wor~ about ~. With l~ds of love and kisses, I ~ Ever yo~

Love, War, and Medicine


Sunday, Marc
Dearest Nine, Have only a few minutes to spare to let you know I~m in first-class condition and well back out of the line and out of danger. Of course, I know you are worrying about me and this battle going on, but please don’t as I’m 0.K. and fit as a fiddle. On account of the battle, no mail has come and I doubt if any is going out either. So delays will be ine vit able. I must give this to the post corporal at once, so mu~t close wl.~hh loads of love and kisses from Your own


Sunday, March 24 Dear Folks, I suppose, at the present time you,-as all of us, are deeply concerned over the great battle still in progress, Germany’s supreme effort. This is a brief note to tell you I am back and well out of danger, so that you need not worry about me. Owing to the congestion due to the stru6gle, no mail has been delivered for the past four days and I have been unable to send any letters, either. I hope this gets through O.K. ¯ Must close with loads of love to all of you. The post corporal is calling for letters. Affect ionately, L~e Tueaday, Marsh 26 Dea~ Folks, Of course you want to know all about the biggest battle of history, still in progress. Well, as far as l’m ooneerned, I know less than you. l’ve only seen one newspaper since March 21st, the first day of the Boche push. My battalion is an entrenching one now and not a fighting one, so we are way back of the li~e and not in danger at all. So that all we hear is hearsay evidence from this Tommy or that one. There can be no doubt that this is the biggest event of the war. Likewise, there can be no doubt that to date the Boche have the upper hand in this push. They have pressed the British back in many places, but the Tommies give way only under terrific pressure and then only very slowly. And I still leek for a big counter-offensive

Love, War, and Medicine


by th$ British, l~rench and A~ericans with a good prospact far success. We a~e now in a little villa~e way back of the l~e and well into t~ ~gion of civilization. We ~ac~d ~ this ao~ing at ~:00 A.M. afte~ ~a~ehi~ steadily si~e ~:00 P.M. ~st ni~t - a dista~e of about twent~ miles. ~d as it’s I0:00 A.M. now and I’m ve~ sleepy and tied, I’m Koi~ to close with l~ds of l~e to all of you. I can ~dl~ kee~ an e~ o~n. ~fect ionate I~, ~e Wednesday, March 27 Today was a cool, gloomy day. t~enehes east of this village; twenty Our men were digging of them reported sick.

All the French civilians have gone; the Boche advance has slowed up. We a~e to be relieved tomorrow by a F~ench division. Managed a good sleep and some good food. Thursday, March 28 Up at 5:00 A.M., breakfast and off at 5:30 A.M. We reached Mailly-Raineval across the So~e River at 9:00 A.M. and passed cur old billets at Moreuil, a distance of about twelve K~. Rumor: Boche are approaching. The Padr~ and I slept with ou~ boots on. Letter #33 March 28th Dearest Nina, I have been doing ~y best to get letters away to you, but with poor results. This big battle has disorganized everything. The post corporal is Just going out to mail letters and l’m going to close this at once with loads of love to you and kindest regards to all. Lovingly,


Love, War, and Medicine


P.S. Received some letters from you, but haven’t them P.~. 2. Am way back of the line, though ~ave been in it a bit, but am 0.K. P.S ~.. Will write long letter at once. Lots of kisses and hugs. P.S~~. P.S. 5. Don’t worry about me. We’re an entrenchir~ battalion and not fight in8 troops. March 28 Dear Folks, Owing to t~e disorder due to the big battle still raging, I don’t know whether my letters are reaching you or not. I hope so. I’m getting no mail at all now - it’s all held up somewhere. But don’t worry about me - I’m so far back of the llne I can’t even hear the guns, so you can see I’m as safe as in Chicago. We’ve moved so many times I’ve lost track of everything. We never stay more then a day in ode place. As fast as the Boche advance, our unit goes back as it’s not a fighting battalion any more and where the unit goes, I go. Things are much more hopeful today. The French, who are working with us, have given us a lot of troops and we’re holding the Boche back in great style now. I think the enemy has shot its bolt and it’s our turn This is a rotten filthy village we’re in now. A very small one and packed full of British and French troops. The houses are old and very dirty, likewise the French civilians here. Lunch is Just getting ready. Roast beef, French fried potatoes, bread and butter, Jam, tea. ~ot bad. Last night we had boiled chicken and tonight we’ll have roasted chicken. I tell you this war is not so bad after all. We’re sending our post corporal over to a nearby village to divisional headquarters to see if any mail can he obtai~sd. Am gelng out for ride this afternoon. Walking has been my long suit, sometimes over twenty miles a day. Se’ve been on the go so constantly haven’t had my boots off for several days, but hope to get back to normal tonight. Have been getting good sleeps the last two nights, but only about three hours the whole three nights before that. However, I’m now caught up with a vengeance. Must close with loads of love and kisses to all of you. Affect ionat ¯ ly, Lee

Love, War, and Medicine


Friday, March 2~th Mina’s birthday; again we retreated some more as the Boche were still advancing. We reached Estrees. Saturday, March 30th Today another lon~ march, this one to Loewilly, a fair-sized little town. It poured or hailed all the time. Had some lunch and tea at a nice mill, but at 7:45 P.M., we were off again on a killing march of thirteen Km. to aaleux; we reached there at II~45 P.M. This was ou~ worst ~arch to date. Sunday, March 31 Today was awful. We were waiting for a train and had to stand out in the rain from midnight to II:IS.A.M.; all of us were soaked. Th~ train was late twelve hours (as usual). Cattle ea~s~a]so as usual, but we sat on the floor and played some bridge with the padre and two other officers. We reached Gamache, a big town near the sea at 3:30 P.M. Then by foot to Feuqui~res~ a splendid little town. We were pretty ti~ed, but we were braced up by some omelettes and a fine billet. An amusing incident : when we reached Feuqui6res I, as mess president, walked over to a shop to buy some eggs. A young girl was sweeping away the snow near the door. I said, "Mademoiselle, avez-~ous des oeufs?" I could see her chuckle and she replied, "Eggs, Monsieur, eggs are very difficult." I did manage to buy a dozen.

Love, ~ar, and Medic Ine


¥onday, £pril 1 The people in that town could not do enough for us. The pad~ and I each had rooms with comfortable beds. Coffee and bread and butter wer~ served to us while we wer~ still in bed. Ou~ mess was nice, too, and my siek parade was huge with about sixty soldiers; sore feet was the ~ain eomplafnt. My feet were sore, too, but that ten hott~ sleep worked wonders. Tuesday, April 2

Luother day of luxu~, but we heard that our battalion at last was broken up.
sion as ever~thi~ her~ was so congenial. was to be split up a~ong the 107th a~d the of o~ 3~h B~t~sh D~vtsion (Ulster). t~ let Royal Irish Rifles, some te t~ 15th. ~ly a few of us a~e left. Letter Pelt bad about that deoi-

Our bat fallen 109th Brigades Some are goin~ to 2nd, some to the

March 22, 1918
My own Sweetheart : When the heart is overflowir~ with an unknown and unfamiliar ’something’ which the ordinary la~wan cannot control, it is quite natuPal to turn to the doctor. So, dear Doetor, tonight I a~ you~ patient. Of eou~se, it is an unusual ease, because t don~t want to be cu~ed. The syapto~s are rather disconcerting, exeept to and my l~otor. It is a ver~ healthy individual whom you are treating. Medicine will not help, but as you~ ehua let m suggest something which would give ~umaediate relief. Just two loving arms around my shoulders, and your lips pressed close to mine, and as a proper stage setting I would suggest darkness or a soft mellow light, and ou~ chair. Repeat the dose frequentl~ and forget everything (thereby living in the present).

Love, War, and ~ediolne


Oh, Boy, how I would hu~ you tonight. I feel as thou6h I want to kiss you and that I will never Ket enouKh of them. At times I feel your presence and I am thoroughly happy. Just to be with you is all I want. There is

somethln~ serene and soothin~ in theso tote £ totes I spend with you. I always love you beat when we are alone toKether. Dearest, I was thinking of you all day and lonKin
for you~ proteot in~ arms. In the midst of my daydream, I stopped to wonder when I really started to love you. ~fter careful thouKht I believe it was when I received the first letter you sent me wherein you spoke your thouKhts and expressed your views. Our ideas were almost the same, and for the first time in my life I had

met a man who could express himself and his ideals in my own language. No, not that because I have not so conceited as to imaKine that I could have written as you did. £s a letter writer I take my hat off to you,

£t that time I was in love with you, but, dearest if that feelln~ had not been mutual, you would never have known how I felt. I will also admit that I tried to divel~t your affections, as I bellowed I was doinK you an Injustice. It would have been hard to give you up, but you would never have known. Today, nothinK can separate us because love has pierced its spear through ou~ hearts. No Kirl can take you from me - nothir~ but death will part us. We have pledsed ourselves to each other and it is the most sacred pledKo I have ever made. Here is my hand and seal (come, dear, seal this pledse

properly - that was a wonderful kiss).

Your letter #24 reached me this evenin8. Honey, your letters are priceless. You say you have no news, but you tell me the sweetest news ever w~itten. Each letter is beautifully worded. Have you thought how little news I write you? FaKe after paKe - day after day, I tell you about this great, new, delicious love. There is no other news. Hy heart is full of my ne- self and I am sharin~ every pal~t of it with you. But, honey, you have found me and know me better than anyone else. Up to this stake of the Kame I was a machine wePkinK, eating, sleeping, readin~ and KettinK recreation as best I could. The world was a place to suffer and relieve othersI sufferinks as best I could. I was indifferent and defied anyone to delve under the surface. Today, I am selfishly happy. Everything has changed. Honey, I am very much in love with you. There is, however, a feelinK of contentment which has come over me. It is probably due to the fact that we know each other and are sure of our future. Dearest, what a future that will

Love, War, and Ysdic ine


~uet picture a home built on understanding, faith, unselfishness and love. Is there anything more beautiful? Lee, deaF, I too ~ awake and lwlshl and build castles. £t times we work these plans out together (with little inteF~uptione - you ~uessed r~6ht the very first tl~e) and you~ ideas am splendid. At ti~ss it amuses me to note how much alike we are in some abides. ~ny we even use the same phrases. In ay letter of yesterday I spoke of how I was entangled in the ~eshes of love and in you~ letter you say the same thing. This has happened several ti~es. It is only another proof that we are pa~t of each other with the same thoughts and expressions. Lee, desist, I could sit all night writing, but you would scold ,~ if you knew the tl~e. This is ~y second letter todaF, but I want to talk to you. DeaF, I sm very lonesome for you. Please d~op in for a few minutes, take close to you and kiss ae Just as I want to be kissed. Oh, if this could only Honey, as the day closes, and as I proceed to the land of nod, ther~ will be one thought in ,~ heart. That I am, Yours now and forever, Nine.

}/y own Astho~e : It would be ridiculous for me to sta~-t tb!s letter in a J o~u~F way. ~a~ly I ~ woPPied. T~ papers

march 2~, 1918

a~ ~ii of ~ws of t~ terrible battle n~ ~ fe~ on the westePD f~ont. T~ market ~estePday

went to pleoes beeause of t~ alp ~aids In ~anee ~d eondltlons seea to ~ worse. Holy, I pPa~ to God this will ~ o~ ~st battle, and t~t the Stars and

Stripes will ~o~ out victorious and t~t ~ boys
will soon oo~ ho~ to us. But, oh, t~ ~aPtao~s a~ the broke~ homes. Something tells ~ that you will co~ baek to me, Sweet~art, a stFon~p a~ betteP man t~n w~n ~ou left. ~aPest, within ~e there is a feeling of faith ~d love ~d ~aee. Ever since I ~ ~en in love with ~ou, I ~ve tried to hold m~ sentime~s in check. T~ was a little doubt whieh cast a heav~ veil of ~le~ arced m~ hea~ which no one e~n s~ised existed. But d~i~ t~ past week oF mope, that yell

was li~ed, and now I ~ positive that you and I a~ one, a~ t~t in t~ ~aP ~t~e a~ ~ams will be ~eali~d and o~ Doll’s House will soon t~e s~pe.


Just think, dearest, what a it be Just wonderful to speak of, where where we will have each heart, s eontent ? I wonder you, dear. I don’t think s you now that you hove a I’m a demon whore you’re Oh, Boy, what wonderful

you. Letters #22, 23 and
and Saturday morning.

ready. Dearest, do you
literature I have ever read. corn you and me and are deep and are like morning

flower Just ready to burst

it will be! Wouldn’t it on the island you cannot affect us, and and feast on love to our I’ll ever get enough of Therefore, Lee, I wa~n eentraet to fill and erned. Take hoed, honey. I have received from delivered Friday night ¯ I know them by heart althese letters are the best That is because they oonifully worded - they sink upon the petals of a vivid full bloom when kissed

by the first ray of sun Dearest, I don’t play is but will make arrangehave some love matches monte to learn so that we ime I expect you to be an when you get back. By that teach me the art. I expert horseman 80 that you would not try it until you baek, as I understand it will be neeessary to eat a buffet and ~ so I want no one but you to feed me. s it a bargain? llusion you on one thing. Lee, dear, I want to ~houlders. It is wiry and My hair isn’t longer than admire it, but to me it wavy so that people envy me s to grow though I is a disappointment, as it treat it and hove it I have been told that is beeause I get so mar~ Lobes. Please, dear, as they only come occadon’t worry about my he sionally and I am none the for them. No, I haven’t I am too busy loving you. had any in sometime. and I should not reMy laet dreau was very is yours - even dreams. peat it to you, but what ~ , I don’t know) but We were together (how we I had maneuvered no one but I knew you had on what seemed to be a to get my vaeation and we :e. Every few minutes farm a thousand miles from we stopped to tease each and chased eaeh other we were exhausted. through fields and fields in your lap and you Then I fell asleep with my awoke and smiled at your were stroking my hair. I picture. Dearest, I am so again complimenting me Thank you, sweetheart, and again commenting on my ’luenee over you. Am I the French dolls could conceited when I say thor not tempt you? It is not , Lee, but with a love as ours, it is easy to as strong, 81neere and o control ou~ m~nds through dictates of our bearts and I Judge you by myself and souls. You see, Bo~ of, War, and Medicine


X know that when we give ourselves to each other, we will be as clean and pure as it is possible for two grown people to be. It has a peculiar effect on me. I have lost Interest in other men. Don’t even llke their company well enough to go out with them. Of o~se, it is quite possible that in order to be agr~eable I shall have to Join parties, but wherever posslble I avoid them. Me, I’m not brooding - Just dreaming happy, pleasant dreams. I p~efer reading, walking, swimming, etc. to the soolety of men who talk nonsense. In fact, I love you, so that I am happier than I ever was. (12:B0 P.M.) A proof of this is in a small thin8 that happened early in the morning. Adele and Morris came in and I was fooling with the child as usual. Later Gussie phoned and in the course of her message said Adele had come home and told her ’Aunt Nine must love me a whole lot because she kissed me so hard.’ Personally, I did not know the change within me was so peroeptlble that a child would notice it in a kiss. Dearest, this will give you an idea of what you will be up against - it will also prove that I am absolutely yours because the feeling within me ia tl-~st, t~uth and triumph. Dearest, aoeordin~ to reports the British are doing thln~s and are tu~ni~ the tables. I slnoerely hope the Runs will get a thorough beatlr~ and thereby end their egotism. Must stop as A. Fries is callir~. Much love a~d many kisses. Yours through eternity Nine.

Love, War, and Medicine


I know that when we give ourselves to each other, we will be as clean and pure as it is possible for two grown people to be. It has a peculiar effect cn me. I have lost interest in other men. Don’t even like their company well enough to go out with them. Of ourse, it is quite possible that in order to be ag~ ~eable I shall have to Join parties, but wherever possible I avoid them. No, I’m not brooding - Just d~eaming happy, pleasant d~eams. I prefer reading, walking, swimming, etc. to the society of men who talk nonsense. In fact, I love you, so that I am happier than I ever was. A proof of this is in a small thing that happened early in the morning. Adele and Morris came in and I was fooling with the child as usual. Later Gussie phoned and in the course of her message said Adele had come home and told her ’Aunt Nina must love me a whole lot because she kissed me so hard.’ Personally, I did not know the ch~ng~ within me was so perceptible that a child would notice it in a kiss. Dearest, this will give you an idea of what you will be up against - it will also prove that I am absolutely yours because ~he feeling within me is trust, truth and triumph. Dearest, accordin8 to reports the British are doing thin~s and are turning the tables. I sincerely hope the Huns will get a thoroush beating and thereby

(12:30 P.M.)

end their egotism.

Must stop as A. Pries is calling. Much love and
many kisses. Yours throug~ eternity Nina.

Love, War, and Medicine

Yhe day we reached this little town proved to be the beginning of a very interesting happening. Yhe aayor ef Peuqui~res had heard that in our group there was an A~erican physician; he and ~any other Prenchmen felt that the Aaerican doctors were the best in the world. He begged ~e to oo~e to his home and examine his daughter. She was about fifteen and her name was Gilbert6 Lesquibin. Yhe Mayor and I walked to his home, and on the way he told me that Gilber~ had been to a boa~dir~ school, but came ho~ paralyzed. She could not walk at all, and had been in bed for I00 days. A P~ench doctor was giving her some pills and soae daily injections and would be glad if I exaalned this girl. 3o my stethoscope and I reached a very nice ho~e and there was a good-looking ~oung lady lying in bed. I examined her, but could not find anything wrong. 3he did not like her school a~d probably was homesick. 111th the aid of her mother and the mayo~, I pulled her out ef bed and ~ade her stand up. She did this very nicely a~ X concluded that the diagnosis was a simple hTsteria. Yhe parers offered me some cold cider. ~efo~e I left that day, I told the parents to keep getting her o~t

Love, War, and Medicix~e


of hod, and I told them I would ~etu~n the next day add she should open tho door for ~e and sorve ~e another glass of older. The next day I ca~e again; .Gilbe~t~ walked to the door and openod it for ~o. She was walkinE slowly llke a ehild learnin~ to walk, but she was walking, A second
glass of cider and I was elf again, to return the ~oxt day. I found Gilhert~ almost O.K. and she was walking mmch better. Of course, the pa~onts wer~ delighted. Cider again, f~ t~ third day. I ~ver saw Gil~rt~ a~ain as o~ battalion ~ to ~et~n to t~ f~ont line. But Gil~6 w~e to me ~d I

to her, heater.

s~ in FatheP poop English and ~ F~nch n~ ~h S~ asked ~ to ~ ~r big bPot~ ~d I consented. He~ last letteP: two ~nc~n wanted to ~r~

~; o~ was ~i~h, t~ ot~ ~ndsoee. ~ich should s~ t~e? I su~sted t~t, fPom the ~dical point of view, s~ should ehoose t~ ~althie~ of t~ two. S~ did get ~P~ied ~d I se~ ~ a note of congFatulations. ~o of ~ letters were ve~ inte~sti~ and ~ ~lish not bad at all; I ~ ~ep~oduoing those two lettePs. 6th of ~.ul’y. Dear Sir It is the little girl you have ausculted three months ago at her parents’. A poor invalid who has been lyin~ in bed for one hundred days. Do you re~ember her? I suppose you do. Today I a~ writing to tell you that I am quite alri~ht~ good appetite and fine sleep. Thanks to your clever directions


Love, War, and Medioine

so I wast send you a7 best regar~ls for all you~ kindness and ~y Pa~ents Join ae to invite you if you get a few daTs off f~ ~ village. Hopi~ to ~a~ fF~ you soonl~, I ~emain Yours ve~y,tha~ll~ Gilbe~e ~ squibin Fe uqu i~ re s -e n-V ~ n

~oe ond Letter: Feuqui~es on the Z~ ~ August H7 D~az. Doctor, I ~ve ~oeived with g~at p~asu~ you~ ~lable lette~ ~ted ~Ith of July. ~ a~ so glad to ~a~ you a~ quite well. I ~ve been ~eatl~ s~p~ise to sse t~t you ~ve w~itten ~ nice l~ o~ fan.age and I hope t~t on the fi~st t~ I ~et you you will be able to as well ae ~ite it. I t~e notice of po~ p~ise to eo~ and vleit us at t~ next oppo~t~ity. Just now ~ t~oope a~ fi~hti~ so b~a~el~ t~t t~ kaise~ will bite his ton~e a~er saying: ’we do not fea~ ~e~iean fo~ee~. ’ ~o ~ t~t, t~s to t~i~ c~age, t~t ou~ dea~ ce~t~ will soon be ~id of these wild H~s. DoD’t you thi~ sot ~fo~ elosing I ~st tell ~ t~t o~ stock of ei~ is getti~ low; hu~r~ up if you are ot~ glass because this yea~ t~ a~les ~ve totally failed. Pe~pa you will ~ able to brin~ baok with you a couple of bottles of ~ine wine. Is this

possible? M~ chat is done; and I close uy letter with best wishes and love
Votre petite rescap~e qui ne vous oubliera Jamais Gilbe~t~ Le squibin l~e uqui~ ~e s -e n-Vi~e n

(Som= )

Leve, Wa~, and Yedieine


B~CK TO PRO~T LI~E A~ril 3, 1918
l~ow to return to m~ army career. This meant we were off by train; we hated to leave because the people in this town were so hospitable. Our train left the next morning a~d we reached Proven, back in Belgium. Our train we~t through Abbeville, Boulogne and Calais. All around were ruins and finally we reached the First Royal Innskilling Fusiliers, my new outfit. Friday, April 5 Again morning sick parade (about twenty) and then a seoond sick parade for the 2nd Inniskilling Fusiliers as that outfit did not have a medical officer. It rained all day and the roads were muddy. A new barman was assigned to me (I tried unsuccessfully to take Stafford, my former barman, along with me ). We are tomorrow. Friday, April 5 De are st Nina, Once again I am compelled to limit this to a few lines as mail is to go out in a few minutes. As this is the first mail to be collected in a long time, I know you will understand why mall to you is so delayed. due to go back in the line


Lovo, War, and Yedlclne


I’m far away from the big battle still in progress. I’m where I was when I first left Boulogne for the front last August. Can you guess? Well, it’s the land of mud. I believe there’s a poem about its mud. Anyhow,---~’m well back of the line and it’s very peaceful bore now. Am writin~ this before breakfast as that i~poz~ant function is a bit delayed. We have all been travelIDg so much it’ s a wonder there’ s any organization left. Dearest, I’ve ~eceived a lot of wonderful letters fro~ you and this afternoon I’m going to sit down for two-three hours and tell you how ~uch I love you and how I long for you. Also I’ve Just loads of news,- so much, indeed, my mind is in confusion. The post corporal is awaitin~ ~e, so I close with love and kisses to you. Lee Note new address ist Royal Innlskilling ~usiliers, B.E.F.

Belgium, Friday, April 5 My dearest girl, I wrote you a brief note before breakfast today Just to let you know I was O.K. That note is on its way already. This is to be a letter. There are at least eight ba~s of mail for our battalion which are missing, thou6h expected to turn up any minute. Nevertheless, I want to thank you so much for your great faithfulness in writing me as in the last ten days or so I’ve received ten letters from you, #16, 17, a note of February 28, 18, 19, 19 (two of same number), 21, 22, 22, (two more or same number), 23 and 2~. #II and 12 are still missing - if you remember what was in them, please repeat. As for the four of mine you say are missing (#5-8), I believe they’re gone for good as I expect they went down with the Andania which was sunk about that time (Januar7 22nd). That letter #6 was very important. Yes, dear, I too get very worried when the mail is delayed, though perhaps I succeed in overcoming my emotions a bit better than you in that respect. I know you are well taken care of durir~ my absence, so I don’t worry about you as much as I should were our po-

sitions reversed. This is not to be taken, however,
as a reason for you to worry about me,- I don’t want you to do that. I have already told you I want you, all of you,~ and in the best possible mental and physical condition - (I need not mention moral). To obtain these blessings of a happy mind and a good health, you

Love, War, and Medic ins


must have your seven-eight hours of sleep each day; to o~-~in those you must not worry about me. No, Nina, I d~’~--rt lose my heart in Paris. I couldn’t for I’d lost it already - to the gem of the world - a little lady in New York. No, I didn’t see a single girl there to so,pare with you. It is true that I saw countless beautiful and charming mademoiselles, but beauty isn’t much, after all. No, with a few exceptions, the nurses at AI’s hospital are nothir~ to brag about. I’m sure A1 hasn’t fallen for any of them. Many thanks for ’Speaking of Operations.’ It surely is funny. I read it and gave it to the padre and the last I saw of him, he was laughing over ’the doctor took my temperature and $I0.’ The small package with the violets has not shown up yet, but the third package you sent and some chocolates and cake did coma ~en8 ago and I acknowledged them. No, your letters are never censored any more, nor any others from the United States of America. Are mine still mutilated? Thank you very much for the congratulations for my b~thday. I surely.did wish for you on those two days of March 2Pth and l~th, I tried to get time to write you on your birthday, but couldn’t. I, too, echo your wish that we spend our next anniversaries together. A1 wrote me he received your letter. He said you told him a good deal but he would not send the letter to me. I,m curious - what did you tell him? No, don’t mind you writing him in the least. You’d have to go a long way before you’d meet a better boy than he is. And I’m sure of you. You speak of-~ing your income tax report. haven’t filed mine and don’t believe I have any to file. I never have to sit up nights to watch my cash. How much do you have to have to file one? I believe the limit has been lowered since I left. And it will have to be very low to include me! Am delighted to know that you met Ed and that he enjoyed his visits to New York. It was indeed fine of you to look after him so well. I am very anxious about him. If he sailed about March lOth or so, he should be over here by now, and I should have a letter from him any day now. Letters from different parts of l~rance only take about three-five days. The public announcement the other day that American troops would be used to fill up l~renoh and British division~ may mean that Ed will be with the B.E.F. with me. But if that should occur, Iu_ppose I’d be transferred to the A.R.F. about that tlme .

Love, War, and Medicine


Thank you for the picture pasted on one of your letters. It replaces the one which faded due to my carelessness one day. I only wish I had the original here instead of the photo. Also received a letter from Stella and a good one, too, as usual. Other mall has been very much delayed. Stella was enthusiastic about Ed. I wonder - what do you say? I consent! I’m afraid Al’s a bit young - you know he’s youn~er than I. And Ed’s thirteen months ol~er than I am. As Stella says it will be funny if l~d meets me and salutes,- and I younger than he is. Now as to further adventures of ~ee - and he has plenty by now. When the big Boche push started on March 21st, I was with my Entrenchln8 Battalion well back of the line, apparently very safe. We heard the tremendous artillery battle in the distance, llke one listens to a good play,- as though not in it yourself. But we were soo~ disillusioned. T~at day heaps and heaps of Italian and Chinese labor units came running back for all they were worth. Their morale did not exist, apparently. I stood at the crossroads and watched them fly by us. They didn’t look as though they’d ever stop running. The next morning our battalion, together with another entrenching battalion, moved a few miles away to defend a certain canal from the Boche. We took up positions along the banks of the canal. With the rest of headquarters I waited for the coming of the Germans in a little village a few hundred yards back of the companies. I made my aid post in a little schoolroom. That room was wonderfully equipped - books, paper, games, etc. Every child had his own basin and dish of soap and towel. And the Red Cross of United States was running the outfit. Of course, when we came the citizens had almost all ~one, and we could not help -pltyin~ t~em as they iof.ot~ so apparently unconcerned, their homes. The few remaining citizens were helped away by some Smith College girls,- and brave girls t~ey are too, at least those I’ve seen. I slept in a tent that night with the padre. It was cold, thoug~h, as I had nothing but my waterproof coat for a cover. I didn’t sleep much. At 4:00 A.M. hell broke loose. There was most violent machine gunning all along the line; no bullets near us. But we quickly moved to a better headquarters near a main road and shipped our transport back out of dan~er so as to avoid its capture. Then our battalion, the other battalion, and a pioneer battalion (carpenters, etc.), all of them only incompletely armed, lackIng machine guns and other necessities, undertook to hold back the Boche.

Love, War,, and Medic ine


That morning was very foggy and you couldn’t see twenty yards ahead. I made my aid post in the shelter of a ruined building on the roadside. About 10:00 A.M. the fog lifted and the sun came ~ut. All was very peaceful. Someone found an old Italian mandolin and I played some tunes on it while sitting on a rock by the roadside. But it was too peaceful. Suddenly, about noon, very heavy shrapnel began bursting all around where our men were lying in improvised trenches on the ridge. Machine gun bullets began to whizz all around us. They swept by like hailstones, mostly overhead, but three hit the wall behind which we were sheltered. A bit too close for comfort. Wounded came streaming along. I dressed them as quickly as possible out there by the roadside. Most were slight bullet wounds. Our commander, Major Lewis, was hit below t~e knee by a bullet. He came limping along, assisted by two men, and when he came near me he yelled, ’Say, doc, I guess I’ll take that hose of yours now.’ Our padre took him along down the road and got him away. The firing continued about an hour, t~en let up in intensity. My aid post was unsatisfactory because of lack of room, so I Joined two other medical officers about 200 yards back. My new post was in the grass behind the gentle slope of a three feet hig~ bank. Firing opened up again and kept up all day and night in spasms. Nothing came very close to me. That day was very warm and that night cold and frosty. Out ther~ with the sky for our cover and grass for beds and but a waterproof f~r cover,- it wasn’t the best place to sleep. I dozed for a while but awoke so cold and cramped I kept walking about the rest of the night. My corporal, barman, and I kept watch in turn two hours on and four off. But I might Just as well have been on all the time as I couldn’t sleep anyway. That long night finally passed and morning came cold and very foggy again. We ate some bully beef, bread and butter and marmalade for breakfast and felt better. About 9:00 A.M. the Boche shrapneled all around us for about a half hour. It was raining lead. Most of the stuff exploded Just beyond us, fertunately. A few b~rst overhead and bits of metal landed all around us. About I0:00 A.M. came the crisis. The fog had lifted and our boys found that during the night the Boche had bridged the canal and were now massed to attack our few. They came on in overwhel~Ing numbers. Our boys fired with great effect until the Boche were on them, both fr~n the front and in flank. Further resistance would have only meant capture; our boys retreated. Down they came alor~ the side of the slope.

Love, War, and Medicine


At first I couldn’t understand what had happened, but it didn’t take me lon~ to comprehend. I gathered up my medlcal-supplies quickly and retreated with the rest else I,d be in Berlin now. None of us ran, but we all walked-pretty fast, I can tell you. And oh: boy: those bullets did whizz all around us. And to add to the doings, three Boche planes flew very low over us and Just poured out their machine sun bullets at us. How we eaoaped I don’t know. I fully expected every minute to be my last. But we walked on and on, past three ditches and farms and along roads till we were out of danger. The sun had come out and it was distressingly hot and dusty. Tired? Well, I should say: After walking back what seemed ten miles but was probably only about a mile or so, we crossed another canal and found thousands of French troops nonchalantly preparing to withstand the enemy. Truly, I never before so admired the French. There they were, diggin~ trenches quietly and cheerily, without a trace of emotion. I was surely glad to see them. I went in search of a French doctor so as to offer my services to him. I found one and he advised me, instead, to report to a British ambulance in the next village. We walked some more, then found this ambulance was moving back to the next village. We moved with it, once more on foot. At the next place I found the commanding officer of the ambulance, offered my services and was refused. He said he didn’t need me. From him I found that my battalion transport was only about five miles away. So we started for it. It was the longest five miles I ever walked. It was very hot. There were seven of us - my sergeant, corporal, barman, and three of my stretcher bearers and I myself. We finished our last tin of bully beef and bunch of crackers on the road. We were so dead tired we halted about every fifteen minutes to rest. At one halt I fell asleep by the roadside. When I awoke in about fifteen minutes, I found all the others asleep also. Finally we reached our camp and what a welcome we got. They were glad to see us and I know we were glad to see them: My batman got me some hot water and I had a bit of a cleanup. Then eight of us had dinner in the one tent and eats never tasted any better. Then the eight ef us curled up on the ground in the tent and as we had some blankets, we all slept like tops. That sleep that night was priceless as I was almost completely done in before that. Next day our battalion gradually straggled in till a respectable number had arrived. News was far from good as the Boche were still advancing. At about 9:00 P.M. we marched off further to the rear. We marched

Love, War, and Medicine


from 9:00 P.M. till 5:00 A.M. and covered about twenty
ailed. Ti~ed? We all arrived half dead. That was a night ~aroh that was almost a nightmare. One officer slept almost all the way while sitting on his horse I had to keep watching him to keep hi~ fro~ falling off.

We marched almost due west and finally halted at a little F~ench village far from the line,- we thought. We stayed in that village two days and dR trenches to defend it. The Boche kept coming and all the civilians cleared out, by orders. The French relieved us on the second night and we moved off early the following mo~nlng. Ou~ route took us through the town where we spent last New Year’s - but what a change! Then it was peaceful, but now the people were all movlrq~ out and the shops wer~ closed. I dropped off to see the old madame who had been so kind to me - poor soul - she, too, was paoklng up to move. What a pity war ist Ou~ new villa~e was a rotten little place and the people most excited and inhospitable. We finally managed to get some space on the floor to sleep and sleep we did. Marching is conducive to sleep! The next day was your birthday, so for a cha~ge we moved off a6aln through a hailstol~m. We marched west, as usual. Didn’t get a chance to write you on that day, though I longed for you and wanted you badly. The next day we were off again in the mol~ning. We halted at a flou~ mill for lunch and tea and whiled away some hours playing brld~e. At 7:~5 P.M. we were off again to the Railroad station about ten miles away. How we got there I dldnlt know as that daily marching had about finished us. The train was supposed to leave at midnight - it didn’t leave till 11115 A.M. the next day. And we had to stand out all night in the mud and rain and cold with no shelter. I kept walking the whole night to keep from fr~ezln~. At 5130 A.M. I crawled into the l~Pench Railroad office and slept for an hour sitting on a box. Finally the train came along - horse cars as usual. Even a brigadier general had to sit in one of those contrivances - so what kick has a poor lieutenant like me? It was a fairly decent Journey, though, and brld~e helped to pass the time. At about 3~30 P.M. we arrived at a splendid town near the sea. Yes, almost to the Atlantic Ocean and not far from wher~ A1 is. We detrained, and, for a change, marched about seven miles to ou~ destination. It was dark when we arrived at the little town. The padre and I were footsore and as d~ and tired as could be. We saw a shop on the side of the street and walked in. Madame and her two daughters greeted

Love, War, and Medicine


us most hospitably. ~uickly, champagne, mutton and omelettes were placed in front of us,- yes, the champagne tasted good. We were famished. We had great difficulty in gettin~ them to take our money. When we finished eating, they led us to a charming home nearby. The people there treated us like kings. The daughter

had married an Irish sergeant and they all liked us.
The ~adame led the padre and me to two wonderful rooms
with two wonderful beds. We hit the hay in quick order and oh! girl! we did appreciate those comfy beds and the sheets. The next morning at 8500 A.M. we were awakened by a gentle tap on the door and in came madame with cups of coffee and some bread and butter. Once more breakfast in bed! Truly it was great. We spruced up and went for a walk through the town. The people nodded pleasantly and were evidently glad we came; a finer lot of people I’ve never met. They couldn’t do enough for us. It was heaven! It was too good to But, alas! There’s a war on. last. (Next paragraph censored) I was assigned to the 1st Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers with whom I’m now attached. It’s a regular battalion formed in 1689 and dating continuously since then. It was one of Wellington’s stand-bys at Waterloo.

It was at Gallipoli in 1915~ a splendid battalion.
Night before last we left our fine village near the coast and passing Al’s place and along the coast reached our present location where mud is chief and where I first saw some action. Yes, I’m no longer in France though very close to it. I’m writing this in bed by candle light. It’s now midnight. Since I started this, I received your letter #20, also one from Stella and one from Ed from Camp Merritt. No, I don’t like t~ ’gloomy’ photo you pasted on it. I do love the stall-

in~ one, t_hou~h. In today’s mail, also, was my check for $172.63 (~6.0~ off for insurance), and a notice
that my papers for promotion had been approved all along the line in the B.E.F. and were now passing through the A.E.F. So good grounds for hope. Dearest, I do wish with all my heart that this war should be over so that I could meet you. No, I’ll never let go of you. I’ll kiss and hug you till you shout ’ kame tad. ’ The other three occupants of this little hut are fast asleep and I should be so also. But I can’t finish without letting yeu know that I’m yours, body and soul; Just take me and see. I only~love you and that with all my devotion. To be with you the rest of my

Love, War, and Medicine


life, to caress you, to talk to you, to sympathize with you, to watch over you devotedly, - that is ~y a~bition. Good night, dearest girl. Many, many kisses and all e~y love. Yo~ ~n ~e P.S. ~y kt~est ~ega~d~ to all t~ fo~s ~nolud~ t~ ~auses ~d ~ss ~cKeon. F.S.2 Th~s secto~ ~s ve~ quiet - y~ se~om ~ar a ~hot a~ I~ ~y m~les behind t~ f~ont l~ne. wo~ about ~. P.$.~ No~ of th~s to ~ folks, Please P.3.~ ~any t~ks for the s~lve~ locket and yo~ photo. ~ ~ always va~ ~t w~th ~.

So don~t

Dear Brother Paul, Received your letter of March 15th this afternoon and with it you in a bathing suit. Seems to me the photo is a bit immodest, to say the least. Glad to hear the Boche helmet arrived. So~e ti~e ago I sent home a small box full of buttons and badses, etc. - souvenirs. The badges I cut off from the shoulders of the same Hun from whom I swiped the steel helmet. I also took his gas mask and am mailing it today under separate cover. I don’t know whether the postal authorities will let it pass, but nothing ventured, nothing gained. Have a busy day outlined for tomorrow as am giving lectures on sanitation, water-carts and stretcher bearing, besides holdin~ my daily sick parades and sanitary inspections. Oh, yes, besides that I must hold my weekly inspection of the whole battalion for bugs. Want the Job? Good night and pleasant dreams Your loving brother, Lee Saturday, April 6th Only one sick parade as Captain Picken returned

to the 2nd battalion. At 1:30 P.M. we left for the reserve line on the west bank of the Ypres canal in Belgium. We
very close to the city of Ypres, one of the really

Love, War, and Yed~Ine


famous e it ie s in World War I. Given a good dugout with electric lights and two beds.
Sunday, April 7th A beautiful and very peaceful day. Walked to see the city of Ypres Yprea Cathedral was almost completely demolished; even the in ruins.

Sunday, April 7th Dear Folks, Received a letter from Paul and glad to know you’re all well at home. So the goverranent wouldn’t pass that parcel with a ball and glove in It. Never mind. I have no one out here who can play baseball anyway, so it wouldn’t be of much use. When I want anything special, I’II write for it. Glad to hear you got the ash tray from P~ronn~ and the pictures of P~ronne and Albert. No, I’m nowhere near either of those places. The Boche have both now I’m a long way from either. Did you get the box of Boche souvenirs I sent you - buttons, badges, etc.? Also want to repeat that I sent Joe a draft for $500 that makes $1,250 altogether - he’s to buy Liberty Bonds or other certificates with that money. Also repeat that my promotion to Captain is assured, and I will get my new commission in a month or two, I suppose. There isn’t a whole lot of news; as usual. I’m in the best of health and spirits (the prohibition variety, of course). I’m writing this forty feet below the earth in a deep, safe dugout. This would be a dandy place if it weren’t for sundry ferocious rats. You have to look out or they’ll eat your soap if you’re not on the alert. We have a pet mouse here - it’s very cute. You never write how things are at home - I mean increased cost of food, etc. I suppose sugar, etc. is hard to get. Out here we get all we want of everything except fresh fruits and vegetables. England’s troops are well fed. That’s all for today except to send loads of love to all of you. Affectionately, Lee

Love, War, and )~ed~.cine

zat or #35
Sunday, April 7th Jfy dearest girl, This Sunday is peaceful not l~ke that of two weeks ago, as I u?ote you in sttheletter #3~. Hope you got that one, as it’s a long one (f~toon pages)with all the news of the Boche offensive as it concerned me. Just finished lunch. The 8us is shining and the air is warm. The rain is gone at last, and it’s now possible to go out walki~ once mo~e. As I told you, we’re several miles back of the line in a now sector - not l~ance. This moaning I took a long walk to a city once beautiful and which will always be famous in history because of the terrible battles nearby. The To--,les have given it a rather vulgar nickna~e. Wonder if you’re a good guesser - let ~e know your guess. At any rate I walked to and from this city this morni~. It was a nice walk, but the city itself is a ~ass of ruins. Not a citizen anywhere. The once beautiful cathedral has a few shattered walls remaining. Masses of brick a~d dirty debris are all around. The city looks Just like P~ronne (l’m enclosing a book views of that city - I haven’t any of the one I visited today). That little silver locket you sent ~e is beautiful and I can’t thank you enough for it. The case is fine, but I like the photo inside and the violets even better. Nina, dearest, l’m awfully much in love with you. I think of you al~ost constantly and long for you with all ~y heart. To be with you once more, to hold you in my arms and kiss you again and again - that would be heavenly. ~peed the day when a victorious peace is declared and we are reunited. Did you get my letter #30? It was most important and until I get the answer to that, I don’t know Just how to write to you,- I mean as to the proper strain. But even if you refuse me, I won’t be able to quit loving you, but shall go on and on, in hopes of an ultimate success and happiness. But please answer #30 as soon as you get it. Did you get the scarf I sent you from P~ronne last month? I hope you did. It wasn’t much for a birthday preset, but it was the best I could get you udder the c ircumst ance s ¯ Only owe about a dozen letters now as am answering them as fast as I can, now that we’re in a peaceful part of the llne once more. I hope to catch up day, but doubt if I ever will. This letter is not a newsy one llke the last, but I do want to repeat that you are everything to me and

Love, ear, and Medicine

I’m yours, heart, soul and body. I want to Just shout ’kamerad’ to you and take any punishment you hand out. ~rnat will that bey What have you in store for me when I Jump off the boat? I’m anxious to know what fate awaits me. I’m now going to try and answer some letters I’ve owed for a long time. So ’au ~evolr,’ my dear girl, fer the ti~e being. Kindest and best regards to you~ folks and my utmost devotion and affection for you. Yours ever, Many kisses and hugs.

Monday, April 8
3oabie s inspection today - only five cases in the whole battalion. panies. There were tion was impossible.

Also sanitary inspection at A and B Cornso ~an~ shell holes that good sanitaHad tea with A Company (in a pill box).
Tuesday, April 9

Heard heavy ’strafing’ all day Just south of us (~rmenti~res?). Did manage to take a walk with my’new roommate (Captain Hamilton) and wrote some letters. Letter


Tuesday, April 9 My darling girl, The rain is coming down in torrents tonight, but in ay cosy little electrically-lighted dugout, I’m very contented. It’s dry and warm in here and that’s the main thing as far as I’m concerned. These last two days have been very uneventful and restful. It’s been so quiet I’ve almost fargotten

there’s a war on. Today I’ve been cleaning up my kit and myself. I went through my outfit and destroyed a lot of old stuff includln~ old letters that had been accumulating. But I’m saving all of yours so that at some future date

I’ll read them all to you. Here’s hopin~ that comes
S con.

Then I had the battalion barber in and he massacred ~ hair. He was a bit too handy with his clippers and razor. After that performance, I once more

Love, War, and Medicine


did my acrobatic bathing stunt in my collapsible rubber tub - that’s the trouble - it’s too collapsible - if you lean on one side a bit, you get a flood on the floor. It’s very quiet now. My roommate, a Captain Hamilton, is sleeping peacefully. I, too, shall soon be in the land of d~eams. But I can’t go to sleep before telling you, dearest, that you are all the world to me. Stella, in her last letter of March 15th, asks me if I love you. She says you call her up six times a day and ask her ’do you think Lee loves me?’ Why, Nina dear, I do love you, most devotedly and wholeheartedly, and if ’yes,’ is your answer to my letter #30, T,11 be the happiest boy there ever was. I can’t tell you how anxiously I’m awaiting that a~swer. It isn’t as though I was offerin~ you a wonderful material future with abundant riches, etc. I’m only offer~’~-~my love and affection for T’ve very little else to offer you at the present. But everything I have is yours for the taking, and I don’t want a thing in return except you and you~ love. Perhaps I’ve never told you that I’ve had several excellent opportunities to marry wealthy (and nice) girls; I turned them all down for from down inside me somewhere comes the feeling that marriage for money is always a failure. I abhor anyone who marries for money. A1 and I had a roommate at Cook County Hospital, Chicago, when we were interning together. This chap got married about a year ago; the girl is very nice and also wealthy. A1 and I agreed most emphatically that none of that would ever occur in ou~ cases - we’d both go out of ou~ way to avoid rich heiresses. So I do hope you’re not an heiress, Nina, for I don’t like ’em. All I want from you is yourself and your love and confidence in me. We’ll get along in the future, I have no fear. Money isn’t everything. However, I’m saving a bit now which should come in handy for our future. Dearest Nina, if I had you here I would Just eat you up. I’d hold you tight and kiss you so hard and frequently you’d shout for mercy. I’d run m~ fingers through your dark tresses and wind these beautiful looks around my face. Oh! girl! What the future has in store for you and for me. Good night, dear, sweet dreams. Your loving sweetheart, Lee Wednesday, April lOth Dear Folks, Just received Pa’s letter of March 14th and glad all of you are feeling fine and dandy. Also pleased

Love, War, and %~dlclne


to hear that the Boche helmet has arrlved and that It is belng put to a good purpose In the store. I also sent you a box of buttons and shoulder-straps, etc. They were almost all taken from the same German I captured at Cambrai - the helmet came from him also. Poor chap had a bullet through his knee and couldn’t run that’s why I could capture him. You might put a sign in the window ’These trophies captured by my son at the Battle of Gambrai’ or somethin~ to that effect. Am pretty busy givir~ lectures to water-cart orderlies, stretcher-bearers and sanitary men. I have about fifty men under me, so it keeps me gotr~ to see that everything goes on O.K. Then, I have to keep up supplies of medicines, bandages, etc. And weekly inspections for bu~s and daily reports help occupy more of my time. 8o I have plenty to do even in this peaceful se ot or. The food in this new unit is excellent. My only dan~er is from overfeeding. Am llvlr~ a very luxurious life now. The weather continues cool, misty and rainy. It ls a great country for rain - about seven out of every eight days. Hy ~ boots are really necessary out here. Glad to know my mail is reaching you regularly, thoug~ I’ll bet it’s been much delayed the past three weeks on account of the last battle. Thank Paul for the mandolin strings and plectrums which Just arrived. The latter are much too hard, though. Please tell him to go to Lyon & Healy’s and get me about six soft ones. 8o the helmet is making a sensation. Well! Did it come unopened? Well, that’s all for today. Affect ionat ely,


Letter Wednesday, Aprll 10th My darling Nina, The post corporal was ver7 good to me today for he brought me you~ letters #29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34 and two extra ones of March 20th and ~2nd. They are lovely letters, every one of them, and I can’t thank you enough for the tenderness with which you infuse them all. You~ affection simply shines out in every line. I’Ii try very hard, dearest, to deserve you~ love. It’s marvelous that you should love me. I never thought anything so wonderful would ever happen to nor did I ever dream of falling so desperately in love with anyone as I have with you. Pinch me, please. I’m not sure I,m awake.

Love, War, and Medicine


Xt was fine of you to celebrate my birthday by that dinner party and my thanks go out to all of you, especlally to Stella who gave it, I believe. She is a good scout and she can become my sister-ln-law any t-~me she w&nta to. Of course, ~.d would have to be consulted about that little matter, wouldn’t he? SteAls and Miss McKeon a~en’t & bit nice to tell you I don’t love you. Not a word from Ed yet. I wish you had sent me his address, so I could have written him. He’d have had a letter awaitir~ him on landing and that would have cheered him up immediately. As it is, I’ll write him as soon as I hear from the boy. So you are making pies. Be sure and learn how to cook if you don’t know already. They say the way to the heart is through the tummy, but I know that’s not so in my case. I don’t care what sort of bricks you’ll hand me for biscuits (if you do) - I’ll love you Just the same. Still, it won’t hurt to become an expert, will it ? Glad to hear you’re getting plumper - no, you don’t need any extra weight - you’re Just the right size to suit me - but it’s a sign you feel O.K. I, too, am in the best of health,- ’in the pink’ as the Tommies say. So Major Hardie’s picture has come. Let me know what he’a doing. I never hear from him any more. Please send me that other glrl’s address and photo, if possible - I think her name is Buchanan - I’ll try and get her at least a lieutenant - majors don’t grow on the bushes ¯ You~ picture of our future home is Just what I should wish. You and I - chums and pals forever helping one another all our lives - with no secrets between us - man and wife. Let’s pray for that day to hurry along. No, I refUse to let you flirt with either the army or navy officers stationed across from your office. You’re mine only. Yes, I’d be awfully Jealous if I heard you were making eyes at some New York chap even though I don’t think I’ve much of a Jealous disposition. I know I’m an ignorant chap, but as I haven’t a dictionary with me, may I ask what ’uxorious’ means? You signed one of your letters ’your uxorious Nina’ therefore it must be nice, but the word is new to me. So Adele has deserted me for Ed. That shows she has good taste. I do hope that she is 0.K. again and has forgotten all about whoops. Glad to hear you got a visit from Joe. That’s No. 3. Hope he enjoyed his New York tour. No, he’s better off without seeing my letters to you. I don,t believe anyone in Chicago suspects our romance. If he writes for permission to read my letters to you, I would conveniently forget to answer that part of his letter.

Love, ~ar, and Medlcin~


Thank you, darling, for your pledge - I too accept. Nothing but death can part us. I do take your hand in ai~e and seal that pledge most properly with as tender and devoted a kiss as I can give. Yes, my own girl, you are alne and l’m yours (even though l’ve not heard as yet from ~y letter #30, l’m takln~ it for granted that ’yes’ will be your answer). You remmber I wrote you about my friend Sam Solomon recoemendi~6 a glrl by the na~e of Amelia for wrote hi~ back tha~ I didn’t know her well and didn’t even correspond with her and besides I wasn’t running after any heiress (she’s wealthy). Today I received his answer - I’II quote you part - most is far too complimentary to be true. He says, ’Lee, your last letter, in which you spoke of Amelia, impressed me in a most unusual manner. That is, I was not impressed by the statement of your not beir~ friendly with her, but rather by the fact that you took the position that she was a far superior beir~ to yourself. Shucks, I kno___~w you would never marry a girl Just because she was wealthy. I know you too well for ~hat. But why, klddo, if you should become really attached to a girl, why, say I, should you let her wealth hinder you?’ Then he goes on to tell me about how any family in Chicago would welcome me into the inner circle. Little does he know that I’ve deserted Chicago ar~ have picked ay sweetheart from the city which has the brightest lights. He doesn’t even know of you at all, except as a cousin. I also received about five letters today from my dad and brothers Paul and Joe. None of them are decelved by the same trick that we worked. They all think you are concealing the fact that Ed has gone. They are bearing up well. It’s almost midnight now. Once more l’m sitting up in bed in my dugout writing to you. It was a fairly busy day today as I was getting supplies for my stretcher bearers. We have a dandy little victrola in the mess with some most excellent records and we played a lot of them today, lostly British ones, but a few American ragtimes that made my shoulders move and my feet twitch. ly roommate, Captain Hamilton, is peacefully snoring in the key of G. Soon I, too, will be in the land of Nod, thou6h no one has ever yet accused me of sawin~ wood. Would you like me if I did? Dearest girl, won’t you please come here and say good night to me? Won’t you look me in the eye, put your arms around my neck, draw me to you, and give your sweet lips to me? Won,t you please hold me tightly so

~ve, War, and Medicine


that I can feel your heart beatin~ against mine and inhale the fragrance of your beautiful locks? I could write on like this, but what a poor substitute for you. Yes, that’s what I want - I want you, all of you; I want you close to me all the time. I want you to kiss me good morning and good night and between times. I want to sit next to you at three meals a day. I want you sitting next to me in front of a cheery log fire at night with your arm against mine, with your cheek against mine, while we’re sitting there - thinkin~ and very happy and contented. And that we’ll be that I have no doubt, because no couple ever loved any more than we do. Our love has come about accidentally it must have been by the fates - and it will come out all right, God willin~. So let us both implore Him to do all He can to grant us victory speedily. And after that peace, and after that you and I, my darling, will go roaming through life, hand in hand, chums and pals in the true sense of the words, and husband and wife before the law. Good night, beloved girl, and here’s a tight hug and a lon~ kiss. Your own Lee We dne sday, April 10th Fighting is getting closer and closer as the Germans have been pushing us back at Armenti~res and La Basses. At nlg~t the Boche have been dropping shells all around us. Thursday, April II A fierce bombardment all night. One shell hit the back of our dugout and shook things up a blt. Another shell hit the Church Army hut. Another killed our division cow. I visited the A.D.M.S. and learned we were to go into the line tomorrow night. Our general situation did not seem too good.

Love, war, and Medicine


Friday, April 12th More shelling by the Germans. One shell landed fifteen yards from our dugout. Visited the 108th Field Ambulance and met four American medical officers, two of whom were due to go on leave to Scotland tomorrow. I sort of wished I could go too. At 8|15 P.M. we left by open train to Brooklyn Station. Then we walked along the duckboards in the trenches till we reached Coney House, my new Regimental Aid Post (R.A.P.). My new post is a small pill box (concrete -have to crawl in). Letter ~38 Friday, April 12 Dearest Nina, It’s beautiful today. The sun is out, the air is warm and spring is calling. Even the ground is drying up a bit, though I doubt if it will ever approach the dryness of the Sahara Desert, for this is the wettest spot I’ve ever resided in. Last night, after getting to bed, I sat up for a while reading Ring Lardner’s ’Jack the Kaiser Killer’ in the March 23rd issue of the Saturday Evening Post. It was so funny I nearly died laughing. I laughed so hard I woke up my roommate, Captain Hamilton, and he wanted to know what the H--- was wron8. You must read that, it began in the March 16th issue. Dearest, I love you most devotedly. Yes, so wholeheartedly that I want you near me always. That is why I have offered you my name and myself, to be my chum till ’death do us part.’ You and I, dear, will be equal o in all things. We shall help one another all the time. I shall listen to your accounts of your Joys and sorrows with the keenest of interest and sympathy. I promise even to take an interest in dress and housework, for your sake, though ordinarily I must admit those subjects have never appealed to me. Of course, like all men, I llke to see a girl who’s tidily dressed, but the details of dressmaking, etc. were

Love, War, and Medicine


rather borin~ to me. As for cooking, I’m there when it comes to eatln~, but outside of making fudge, I don’t believe I could boll water without burning it. Sam Solomon wrote me about his brother Harry who is a private in the United States Army - it seems he has already swept 300,000 square feet of floors and peeled 5,000,000 potatoes (a gay life in the army). And while I share your emotions, I know you’ll help me in mine. You’ll steady my impulsiveness for one thing; you’ll listen to my accounts of the day’s work and give me your advice in true wifely ~anner - and as a chum, you and I will have no secrets. Our lives will be open to one another. That is my dream, dearest, my air castle. Some day, God willing, it will co~e true. Some day the few solemn words will be said that will unite us forever after that life will begin anew for both of us. And what a life that will be: Joy shall be king. While we are doin~ our best for humanity, we will be as happy as can be. We will build and plan for the future, for he who stands still is really retrograding and none of that for us. In my mind’s eye, I have many times pictured our little home. Yes, l’m afraid our finances won’t permit us to open up pretentiously. But l’m sure we won’t mind that. A lovely little four-five room apartment with you as queen will suit me much better than the finest castle or palace. With you to help me, we cannot fail. There is no such word as failure in the dictionary. Oh: Happy thoughts! May they soon become realities! And here’s a long, tender kiss from my very heart to you, my gem, the sweetest girl there is. There’s nothing exciting happening lately. Everything’s peaceful at present. I spend a good part of the day writing letters and only owe a few now. I hope to be caught up soon. No word from Ed as yet. It’s a wonderful day and l’m going to take a little walk down the road. There isn’t much scenery about here - ruins and shell holes are about all - but a walk will do me good, especially as my health is so good l’m getting stouter than ever. You don’t want a 200 pounder, do you? Here’s a bushel of love for you and kindest regards for the rest of the family.
Yours e Vel,,

Lee Saturday, April 13 Today was very exciting as I was ordered to report back to the Regimental Dressing Station (R.D.S.). I left

Eeve, War, and Medicine


for this new post about P:O0 P.M. (along with Quartermaster Delaney and his batman). Delaney was supposed to knew the trenches, but he led us the wrong way to Langemarck (still in Belgium). We did not know where we were. Suddenly a sentry stopped us with ’Who goes there?’ - boy, we were glad we were stopped by a British soldier instead of a ~erman. The sentry told us where we were and directed us to St. Julian. We were all dead tired after tramping around all night with packs on our backs. Luckily, I found a stretcher and slept like a rock.

Letter #39
Saturday, April 13th My own gi~l, The scene has shifted a wee bit since I wrote you yesterday. Yesterday I wrote you from a large electrically-lighted dugout. Since then we’ve moved. I’m now seated on a board across two petrol tins in a tiny little dugout. Its dimensions are approxImately six feet long, six feet wide and about fou~ feet high - therefore, you can’t stand up straight in it at all. If you stand up without thinking, you get a swell crack on the dome for the roof is all iron and concrete. The entrance to this is so small you have to crawl through it on your hands and knees. Truly, as you once remarked, no, I believe Stella did, I’ll have to get started dieting for this entrance is Just the kind where I’m liable to get stuck and have to be blasted out. Alas, alas, the electric light is a thing of the past and candles once more are king. But this dugout is an excellent one, for all of its tininess, for it’s shellproof and that’s the main thing. Besides that it’s dry and has a board suspended in mid-air for a bed so that I don’t have to sleep on the floor. Add to that that there are no rats here, only a few small playful mice, and you can readily see what a lovely little castle I live in. The scenery around here is most extraordinary--I ~ever saw anything like it before. As far as the eye can see, there’s not a trace of civilization - not even a blade of grass; there are a few shattered stumps

Love, War, and Medicine


of trees. But everywhere are mud and shell holes s~me of these are of enormous size and could easily drown any unfortunate who fell off the duckboards that wind in and out between. When you take a walk you never get off these duckboarda. Do you know what those are llke? They’re partitioned pieces of wood on a frame, something like this ~, and one connects with the next so as to make miles of this sort of a path. If it weren’t for these, one couldn’t get around at all. But tonight l’m moving back to another place, so next time 5’11 describe that. It’s well back and as soon as it gets dark, I’ii move. Of course you never travel by daylight here as you’re under observation by the Boche all the way. Dearest, I do love that photo in the locket and, besides, I always carry around with me the laughing face you enclosed with your letter #22. It’s an awfully good picture, you know, and I really think it’s your best, even a bit better than the thoughtful one of which you sent me a copy. l’m goi~ to see about some things now, Nina, so will say au revolt to you. You have all my love, dearest, and here’s a load of kisses and hugs to accompany that. Your sweetheart, Lee Letter #52 April 13, 1918 My Sweetheart :Sweetheart, when Sunday comes I want you so much. ~en one’s mind is free from cares it seeks companionship. I want yours. Writing you is next best to seeing you, though a mighty poor substitute. Lee, what a lot you and I will do when we are together. I don’t think we’ll accomplish much, but the happiness derived will mean so much to both. But a few short months ago I thought I was happy in the humdrum life I was leading. Marriage had no charm, love was beyond my reach. I was satisfied because I was independent. All this has changed. I want to cast aside burdens - let you carry them for me, I want you to make me a better woman by becoming an ideal wife to you. Marriage now means unselfishness - the sharing of a home, heart, happiness and love. The fulfilment of earthly Joy. But to me it means even more than that. We will start together at the bottom of the ladder and work to the top, step by step, without

Love, War, and Medic ine


faltering. We will fight shoulder to shoulder, without hesitancy. Our compensation in this fight will mean greater love and esteem for the other. I shall take the keenest delight in the struggle, and when we have attained the height of your ambition, we will lay back and thank God for our faith. Dearest, I love you very much, and am longing for your kisses. I remember two years ago on New Year’s Eve I thanked God for one of the happiest years of my llfe. Nothing had crossed me during that year. I had been very well pleased with t~e year’s work and I had not been sick once during that time. Last New Year’s eve I was not so happy because United States was in the war and you were over there - and I was beginning to love you very, very much more than I would admit. And now I have found my partner for llfe. The best and truest man living. Darling, this afternoon I am bcrstIng with love for you and am afraid that I will break loose and shout it to the world. Darling, no more paper - so must close. Lee, ~ere’s a great big kiss from Your Wife-to-be gins Sunday, April l~th Dear Folks, A cool misty Sunday and very peaceful around here. It is Just as quiet as though both sides had declared a truce for the day. Am writing once more from my dugout. I have more time lately and have been catching up rapidly with my voluminous correspondence. Thanks very much for the Jar of Jam that came yesterday. It was labelled strawberry, but on close investigation proved to be Just as good - namely peach. It sure tasted swell. The others in the mess Join me in thankin~ you. There isn’t any real news to write about. What is happening in other sectors you know as much about as I do, as I only know what I read in the papers, Just as you do. The London Times is the paper I see almost daily, occasionally the ’Daily Mail’ - both are controlled by Lord Northcliffe. Have you heard from Ed? I haven’t as yet and am most anxious about him. I think I should have had a letter from him by now. Ran across another American doctor today. He’s from the state of Washington. He certainly is a ’long, long way from home.’ He has been in England for several

Love, War, and Medicine


aonths and has only been in France about two weeks. He thinks that tl~re have been about 2,000 American doctors serving with the British and P~noh. ]/any of these have been t~ansfer~ed to the A.E.F., but since the new ~ullng about brigading United States troops with British and P~ench, I doubt whetter any more of us will be so transferred, at least for the present. So it looks to me as though I’ll be a low ti~e with the B.E.F. instead of the A.E.F. But you never can tell. War is an uneez~ain p~opos it ion. The general situation, as it stands today, looks p~etty hopeful to me. Gez~any has struck, as she was expected to do, befoz~ United States was ready. She has been held, with enoz~nous losses. It is true she has gained some ground. But ou~ line is as firm as ever. She has not broken through, as she intended to, between the British and F~ench. She is usir~ her best and almost all her reserve divisions have now been in battle. £nd her best has not been good enough. United States is bringir~ up enormous numbers of troops now, faster than ever. S~e will throw the balance of power once more into ou~ hands. And it surely looks to me as if viotory for us will come, perhaps this year. If not, almost certainly it should come next year. I’m very hopeful now, as you can see. Affect ionat ely, Lee Letter #53 Dear~ st 3weotheart, Your notes of March 2~th and 28 as well as card of the 27th have Just reached me. Dearest, please keep me posted as often as possible. Prom the tone of the above I feel that you are in this battle. If so I would prefer to know as much about it as the censor will permit. Don’t think for one moment, Lee, that I shall advise you to shirk your duties in any way. You are a soldier. Your life is in God’s hands and if He so wills you will come out of this war without a scratch. I shall pray harder than ever for your safety, because you are mine in the eyes of the Almighty and I have faith in Him. If you are in it, your duty will probably be mingled with grave dangers. Face them, my Soldier Sweetheart, and you will come out all right. It is not your first experience on the field, therefore it is needless to warn you. I love you more than anything on earth. Life worthless to me without you, but I should

Love, War, and Medicine


be disappointed if I thought my love would cause you to shirk your duties to our boys and our Allies. Letter of March 21st has Just been handed to me. In that you tell me not to worry as you will not move toward the line. That is good news - but I’m not certain that you are still away from the thick of it. If God would only hear our prayers and bring the D Boche to their senses. It is hideous.

-~Vhe evenin~ papers and ticker tell us that the British have gained some little ground but the Germans have not yet been checked. The French are doing good

work but British are up against the real work, and it is with keenest interest that we follow all their movoment s. Darling, I’m lonesome for you. I want you so badly. Please, Hubby, kiss me real hard. Hold me tightly in your arms. So, that,s fine. It hurt a little but I like it that way. Good night, Honey. My love for you is beyond expression. I am not worried because I have confidence and know you will come through, no matter where you Lee, let us say a prayer together - the prayer that is in both our hearts. Just a last kiss, dear. Don’t neglect to keep me posted because I shall anxiously look for your letters. Your Wife-t o-be Nina. Letter #40 Sunday, April 14 My dearest glrl, After a night of adventure and wanderings, l’ve finally arrived at my destination, the advanced dressIng station well back from the dugout I left last night. As I wrote in yesterday’s letter, I was ordered back from the front line to the dressing station for temporary duty. So, after dinner last night, we started off, the quartermaster, my barman and I. The quartermaster had come up along, so I assumed he knew the way. We left about 8:30 P.M. from battalion headquarters and proceeded down the duckboard path toward the road. He took a way I thought was wrong and I told him so, but he assured me everything was O.K. - he knew the way. I thought he knew a short-cut so followed him like a fool. We walked for miles and miles, it seemed, and as I was carrying a heavy pack on my back, besides an army haversack, an overcoat, a gas mask and a steel helmet, it was a bit tiresome. Finally, we came to a road - it was unfamiliar to me, but we carried on down the road. On and on we went looking in vain for someone

Love, War, and ~edlclne


to ask questions of - but not until we’d gone about two miles mor~ did we find that we were inca village (or, rather, what had been a village ) which was so completely out of ou~ way as to be in the next divisional az~a instead of @u~ own. When I discovered that, I recognized that we had oompletely lost ou~ way. It was pitch dark and you didn’t dare show a flashlight. I saw that the quartermaster didn’t know whore he was, so I took command and by means of ~y fifty cent compass, bought in Washington, I brought us onto a main road which I knew led to a d~ess_ing station (not the one I was supposed to go to) whose medical officer I was acquainted with. So down that road we went again stumbling over rocks, etc.. in the darkness, l~inally we reached this station, absolutely dead tired. The doctor there was a good scout. He brought out stretchers and blankets for us to sleep on and oh: boy! I surely did sleep. This morning, after a hearty breakfast of porridge, bacon and eggs and tea, I tramped another two miles along the railroad tracks till I reached this dressing station, my destination. This is a splendid place, a concrete affair, fairly large, well-protected. I’m writing this in the living room of the other two doctors. There’s a fine fire on now and it’s needed today as it’s cool and very windy. Dearest, your letter of March 28th (#39) reached me yesterday - only sixteen days across - the fastest yet. Also received two books for which many, many thanks. I haven’t had a chance to look at them yet. Your letter was splendid and I love you all the more for it. I’m sorry, indeed, I’m partly responsible for your little bookkeeping mistaks. It’s very naughty of those two chums of yours to tease you like that. Tell them I’ii take them over my knees when I get back and will spank them. Yes, as you say, if we can love each other so devotedly at a distance of 3,000 miles, what will happen when we’re clasped in each other’s arms? I’m sure I don’t know, but I,ii be the happiest boy there is. Just to think that a glrl like you loves me is a wonderful thought. How it ever happened I don’t know. But I accept the edict with the greatest of alacrity and eagerness. Who wouldn’t where you are the prize? All the medals and decorations in the world fade into insignificance besides you. I’d rather have you than all the honor medals, including the Victoria Cross and other decorations. For you are not only to decorate and distinguish me by your presence near me, but you’re to fill the void in my llfe, to occupy my home -

yours to be - to wear my name, and to share my sorrows and Joys. ’N’est ce pas?’ I also r~ceived a find letter from my cousin, Mildred Buchsbaum. I’ll quote you parts if you don’t mind. 3he’s engaged to a private now on duty in Texas and is hopelessly in love with him. S~e says, ’Dear Lee, I’m horribly ashamed of myself for waitin~ until I got two letters from you before answering one, but you kno~ the ways of we women, especially we who have sweethearts who take up all our spare time. You see I write to my darlin~ every single solitary day - Just reams; and by t~e time I’m finished, I have no desire to Write any more, and, besides, my homework stares me in the face (she’s a senior at the University of Chicago). Under these circumstances, I hope you’ll excuse me, Lee. My excuse is a legitimate one, isn’t it? You can probably realize the force of it if you have a sweetie. And I’m thinking you have one, from the trend of your letters. They’re a bit too much for me. I’m suspicious, really! Can’t you ’less up to a wise and experienced young cousin? I promise to keep it a secret, honest! I won’t tell anybody - Just a few! Who’s the girl, Lee? Berenice Ladewick? (She’s the girl I wrote you about who keeps sending me parcels - merely an old friend). Now, tell me, before I get so curious that I’ll explode! ’ ~hat do you think of that? T~e way it impresses me is that m~ enthusiasm and love for you must have made me write home in so buoyant a way as to make t~em suspect I’m in love. No one, though, suspects at all that it’s you whom I’ve captured, and we won’t enlighten anyone for a bit yet unless you desire to. Please let me know your wishes on this, dearest. I’II be ~ulded by what you write me. If you wish to announce our engagement soon, let me know. Or if you prefer to wait till after the war, let me kno~. And, dearest ~ina, if, as I hope, you’ve by this time received my letter #30 and have replied ’yes,’ won’t you please let me know at once the size of your finger so that I can seal our solemn pledge in a proper way. You will do this, darling, won’t you? My cousin finishes her letter thusly: ’Capture that bally old Kaiser, Lee.’ If you do so or if someone else does, you’ll be invited to the swellest wedding, Lee. I promise you, right now, the time of your life. And when I say that, you can imagine what it’s going to be like. Oh.’ boy! Don’t you hope you can come to it soon?’ From all this you can see that war can never stop romance. She and her fiance, like you and I, are

X~ve, War, a~ Medicine


hopelessly in love. And all four of us, and doubtless countless others, are hoping and prayi~ with all our fervor that our cause shall come out triumphantly and speedily, and that peace, blessed peace, shall once more prevail, never again to be broken. This front is very quiet, remarkably so. l’m having a most peaceful time. Shelling is rare and only de sultory. Hy sweetheart, I do love you and love you most tenderly. If I could only convey to you so~e idea of how I think of you so constantly; how I lie awake nights to plan, plan for the future and build air castle after air castle with you, always you, in the foreground; how I picture the happiness and peacefulness of our little dollhouse to be; how I kiss your pictures and wish ’twas you instead I am kissing. Oh! girl! If you can picture all that and much more besides, you will have some idea of the intense lon~ir~ that has come over me. 8ometimes I can hardly bear this separation. I almost rebel at it. And then I control myself by the thought that after this is all over our love will be the stronger for the separation. But it is very hard at times, I can tell you. If only we weren’t so far away from each other it wouldn’t be so bad. -We could correspond so much more quickly if, for example, you were in England and, besides, I could spend my leaves of absence with you. That would be ’tres bien.’ To see you every few months would be the best tonic the world for me. But we must carry on as hitherto. We must love each other at a distance and must have supreme faith and confidence in one another. Enough for today, my own girl. Here are a score of kisses, each one most tender. All the love I possess is yours only. Most tenderly, Lee Letter Monday, April 15th Hy own sweetie, Your two lovely letters #35 (part two) and #37 which arrived last night brought me bad news and good news. The bad news was that Hrs. Kraus had had the expected stroke with resultant partial paralysis. I can’t tell you how sad that made me. I Just wrote to Stella. Hy only hope is that no more attacks will occur. The good news was that Ed had arrived safely and that certainly made me feel happy. I can’t understand

Love, Wa~, and M~dioine


why I haven’t heard from him by now. Whether he’s in England or France, mail only takes from two to six days to reach me. If I only had his address, I’d wr~te him, but as it is I’m helpless and must simply wait till I hear from him.- But a load of anxiety has been removed. 8o you will refuse to let me go anywhere when I get to Chicago--you won’t let me see shows like ’Gus Edwards’ Revue’ or ’Oh Boy’ or ’Let’s Go’ and some others; youlre afraid 1,11 be tempted. And, besides, you want to keep me all to yourself. You say one room, one chair, no lights, - mix well and serve p.r.n. (Latin for ’pro rata neoessitas’ or ’whenever necessary’) - and that you’ll want that medicine repeated often. Well: Well! A little secret, dear - may I whisper it in your ear - that will suit me to a T. Just lead me to it, as they say;in the vernacular. Or, as in slang, me for you every time. But, in all seriousness, I’Ii be delighted to be the actor in this romance to be played on my return. Only, instead of acting, I’ll be real. I’ll kiss and hug you so much you’ll have to shout ’kamerad,’ (means ’I surrender’) for I love you from tip to toe. You ask about letters #5, 6, 7 and 19 as you hadn’t received them. #5, 6 and 7 were sent to you about January 20th and almost surely were sunk with the Andonia. Those three letters were written in a neat little dugout Just back of the front line in the sector I was in until recently. Boche are probably even now sleeping in the nice little beds that dugout contained. Number 6 was important, but I have already repeated all of it, I think, in #30 which is the most important letter to date and I do hope you have it and have answered it. Numbers 5 and 7 only told you I love you, I believe, and I,ve certainly reassured you many times since. Received a stack of mail yesterday - about ten in all. Besides your two and one from Stella, I got one from A1 - no news in it except he’s very busy. Also one from ]~arie - she’s terribly worried about me. She wants me to tell her the truth about where I am all the time, but I shan’t as she worries too much. But, if you want me to, I’ll continue telling you as much as military censorship permits, Just as I’ve ~done to date. Also got a long letter from Will - ~ says his young son can holler in every foreign language. Poor man had to walk the floor with him at times. Can you beat it? Also another letter from Berenice Ladewick. I will have to discourage her, I’m afraid. She’s very friendly with my folks, Harie writes. Both ]larie and my cousin Hildred Buchsbaum think I’m going to marry this girl. I hope she doesn’t think so - I’ve certainly

Love, War, and Yediclne
given her no reason to think so. To me she’s a good friend and nothing more. £m writing this in my dugout with the pad on my knees. The candle is once more my illumination. Dearest, what do you think of eugenics? Are you an adherent or an opponent to this doctrine? Personally I’m a strong adherent and believe in it, thoroughly. And when I stop and realize what a lovely and healthy little girl you are, I count myself doubly fortunate in having fallen victim to you~ charms. And I can assu~e you, my sweetheart, that I, too, to the best of my knowledge, am as healthy as can be. Outside of measles and chicken pox and a broken wrist when I was young, no disease has ever affected me. ~n reading this last paragraph, you will doubtless say to yourself, ’There goes Lee dragging in his profession into romance, Why must health be dragged into love Y ’ The answer is this. From a rather wide experience, especially among the sick poor of Chicago, I have come to realize that health is absolutely essential to true happiness. And you must agree that happiness can only result, in couples, when love is present. I have seen ease after ease of happiness in a home shattered by various diseases, some by diseases llke tuberculosis, others (more often) by unmentionable afflictions which ha~e resulted in ’damaged goods.’ Perhaps I should be conventional and not speak of such things, but I know you’re a sensible girl and won’t be offended. So strongly do I believe in this eugenic doctrine that did I ever (before marriage) contract any such disease whleh might spell your ruin, 7 should immediately sever~all relations with you, though I would continue loving you Just the same. For a man who gives a disease, knowingly, to a woman, in my opinion is a criminal and a scoundrel. Let me know, frankly, your views on this subject. In future years, dearest, I may need your advice many times on similar matters. Enough for now. With this goes all my love, all the devotion th~ ~bnesome boy can send to the loveliest, sweetest glrl in the world. Many kisses and hu~s accompany this. Ever yours,

Monday, April 15th Second Lieutenant Kitson and Private McCullongh
we re

slightly wounded by pieces of shrapnel. Our unit to

Love, War, and ]/ediolne


evacuate tonight, so I sat up and ~ead the famous book ’First Hundred Thousand.’ The next morningat 3~30 A.¥. T moved off with eight men down duokboards (Gloater Avenue )
to the main road. into shell holes. It was pitch dark and three times I fell We walked to ’Minty Farm’ where we turned

over fou~ R.A.¥.C. runners; then to ’Irish Farms’ and reached there to our battalion at 6300 A.M. I fell asleep while drinking some tea. Had my sick parade at 3~30 P.M. The Boche kept on shelling all day and all night. Wednesday, April 17 Heavy shelling all night; our tin roof rattled several times by shrapnel - a few were pretty close. Slept poorly as night was cold and I had no real covers. That night I moved in with officers Hopkinson and Davison to a better dugout next to my Aid Station. Heard that Belgian troops have dope well. Friday, April 19 Cold and snowing. There was heavy gunfire Just to our right and it looked like we were headed for battle again. That night Captain Ficken took over my aid post and I was moved from ’Irish Farm’ to ’Wielt.~e ~DUK~uts, and relieved Lieutenant Adams of the 9th Battalion. My new aid post was a Nisaen Hut Just next to our dugout; my bed was a stretoher in a damp corridor of the dugout.

Love, Wa~, and Medicine


Tuesday, April 16 Deam Folks, Just a few lines today to let you know I’m O.K. We moved again and this ti~e way back and I’m w~itiDg this in a nice little hut a long way from the line. No news. Everything is as peaceful as can be. It’s Just about noon and lunch is being p~epa~ed. That’ s my chief oeeupation---eating ! With loads of love to all, I a~ Most affectionately, Lee P.S. So~y to say the Boche gas mask I sent you a days ago was r~tu~ned to me. The British goverr~nent won’t pass it. Letter Tuesday, April 16 My Darli~, After an all-night march through the blackest of nights, stumbliD~ alor~ down a ~ckboard path ~d falli~ se~al ti~s in ~ell holes, I ~rived about 6:00 A.M. t~ay at this p~ce well back of ~e line. I ~d no sleep at all last night, ~d w~n I reac~d this nice little hut I’m sitti~ in, I saw ~ empty c~vas ~d and I ~y down. T~ ~ss corporal bPo~ht ~ a cup of tea. I ~a~ some, a little at a ti~. How it ~ppened I don’t know, but I awoke two hours later, m~h refused. I clewed up and had so~ fi~ bacon and e~gs and more tea and felt like a new ~. A~ t~n the ~il c~e in and bro~ht ~ yo~ letter #37 (that’s t~ seco~ of that n~r I ~ve ~eeelved). It was, I believe, t~ finest love lette~ a ~irl ever wrote a ~n - eve~ word is wo~erful. Love shows itself t~o~hout, w~n you beg to sit in lap, to ~ve me hold you tightly, to kiss you again and again. And, dearest, I do accept yo~ invitation to t~e d~n yo~ hair - you have ~ch lovely locks ~y I wind them about my face as I hold you ti~tly to ~? ~d I also t~ you for yo~ confidence in me as shown by yo~ promise to let ~ invade your sac~d c~ber and do yo~ ~ird~ssi~ while you’re in a kimono. T~t’s a privilege not usually granted, I know. But, li~ you, darli~, I ~ve no use for conventio~lities other than those of right and decency. ~y should we two, who are to ~co~ one, be bo~d by petty customs and traditions? All I kn~ that you ~st ~ ~aut~ul In a kimono with yo~ d~n. ~, oh, ~irl, when t~t pict~e of utmost

Love, War, and Medic ins


sweetness, loveliness, and purity stands before me, it will take all my self-restraint to avoid crushing you to death in ~y fief7 embraces. Yes, dearest, the fire was smoldering within me as I wrote this. At the sight flame will spring of you, ~y precious little girl, the up ~agically. I warn you, dearest, I shall expect munh from you. Your suggestion, or, rather, command to me not to buy you an expensive ring sort of puts me in an awkward position as you must realize. I want you to have all the luxuries any glrl in like circumstances should have. I don’t want people pointing a finger at me saying I was too poor or too cheap to buy my fiano6e a diamond ring. I’Ii admit, as I explained in letter #30, that I’m almost a ’broker,’ but I never was a miser. I’d love to buy you the loveliest stone I could find and some day, if all goes well, I will. But, as you say, it would be foolish indeed to buy a ring and be unable to purchase necessities. Therefore, I shall, as in all other matters, be guided by your wishes and shall buy you a ring (not the most expensive) when I return to United States of America. Will that do, dear? And you and I shall keep our secret until that time. Agreed? Outside of AI, who has a general idea of the situation, no one else knows it except, of course, Stella and May McKe on. In today’s mail, too, came a large box of chocolates, a box of taffies and one of caramels. They came from Schrafft’s of New York. No card was enclosed so I don’t know whether you or Stella sent them. They are delicious and I send my most sincere thanks to you or to Stella. Also want to thank you for the Metropolitan Magazine-and some Every Weeks and a load of Sunday pictures (Times and Sun) - those are especially interesting. After I read them, I pass them along to the It’s 3~00 P.M. now. In a few minutes I must leave as I have my sick parade. Usually have it at p:O0 A.M. but on account of marching last night am holding it a bit late. Only have a few cases of sore feet and boils, etc. to attend to. Our sleeping bags are coming to us for the first time in about five days and I’ll sleep like a top tonight. I’Ii go to bed about p~O0 P.M. to make up for lost time. After you’re out here a while, you get so that losing a night’s~sleep now and then hardly phases you. Though I only~had about two hours dozing in the last thirty-six hours, I feel very fit and not a bit tired. Soon as I washed up this morning, I felt as though r~born.

Love, Wa , and ed clne
If I don’t close now I’ll be late for the sick parade add that would never do. One lo~ sweet kiss, dearest, from your lovely red lips and a tight clasp of your arms. I’m madly devoted to you, Nina. You are the queen to be in our future little dollhouse. shall always be Your sweetheart, P.S. Tn my last letter T spoke very frankly on a certain subject. Y do hope I haven’t offended you thereby. P.S.2 I love you most tenderly, dearest. Here’s another love-tap. Letter #~3 Wednesday, April 17 Dearest girl, Once mo~e a little time to myself and I’ll share it with you. Last night your letter #35 (part one) came, so no~ I have both parts of that. It was a lovely letter indeed and I’ve reread it several times already. It was written Just after the Boche offensive began and of course you showed your anxiety over me. But your prayers for me have done their work, at least so far, and Itm safe and sound and reasonably happy. I’m happier than I ever was before, for I know I’ve the love of the most darling, sweetest and purest girl there is. You have no idea how that fact comforts me. It is the best tonic in the world. At times I get a bit blue and disheartened, but that passes off immediately when my thoushts turn to you, our love, and our future dollhouse. I cheer up at once and say to myself, ’Let’s speed up this war and finish the Boche quickly. Then we’ll go home.’ I don’t know what I’d do if I didn’t have you. Perhaps I would become a morose and sullen chap, who knows? But with you in my thoughts, I can’t help bein~ cheerful. I’d be supremely happy if peace with victory should occur and I could be in the same home with you a~ain. Best of all if we could be alone in our cozy home, Just you and I, in one room, on one chair, you on my lap, my arms around you, my lips to yours. Yes, if you had your hair down (I don’t care if it doesn’t go below your shoulders - I love every strand of it Just the same) and had on a lovely Japanese or other kimono, the picture would be complete. You warn me I have a large contract to fill when I get you - I warn you you have a big Job on your hands also.

And I


That was a fl~e d~eam of yours - about you and I ohasln~ each other and Joyfully flitting from place to place. And then you fell asleep in my lap and woke happy. Would that the dream come true! Yes, you have a ~emarkable influence over me. I used to write to other girls easily and Joyfully. I used to enjoy their company ar~, later, their letters. But now I like only the news those letters send me and have to force myself to answer them. I love only to write to you, as my pen runs very easily, being dictated by my heart. Of course, I still write to my old friends, but always with an effort. I must say, though, that letters to and from Stella are in a separate category altogether. There is somethin~ so refreshing and s~aee~.:,!n her letters that I can’t help liking them immensely and answerin~ them immediately. Somehow, I have no difficulty in writing her. I suppose it’s because s~e’s your chum and is in on our secret. I asked her in my last letter to become my chum as well as yours. Do you mind, dearest? I do wish she’d become my sisterin-law for she is, in my opinion, second only to you. You do seem to kno~ how to choose your friends. Thanks ever so much for the :candy. In yesterday’s letter I ~ote that a box, or, rather, three boxes, of candy had come from New York. I could find no card in the parcel so thanked both you and Stella as I didn’t know which one had sent the gift. It is lovely candyj too. You are a dear gi~l to send it, but please don’t be extravagant for my sake. Yo~ letters are the most priceless gifts you can send me. They stand next to you. I love every word you write for I know how your heart beats for me and dictates and guides your hand. Some day you and I will sit in that dollhouse and will read those letters together, and we will pick out every word and every thought a~d silently meditate. Those will be happy days, dear. Host certainly if Doctor Lewin comes to New York, I want you to meet him. I’m writln8 him today and shall give your address to him. Poor chap has been kept from service almost a year on account of having lost a finger when a child. He has volunteered several times but always rejected on this account. He’s a very fine chap and I do want you to meet him. I’ll Just tell him you’re my cousin and want him to call you. That will do as he’ll do anythin~ I tell him to. Fact is, I sort of used to steer him around. His office was only four blocks from mine and many a mo~e we’ve attended together after night office hours.

Love, War, and Me dic ine


The only thing exciting is that I love you with all my being. You a~e all the world to me. Yes, you have gradually come to be vital to me and I could no longer do without you. With you to chum with me, I’m confident of the future and we’ll be very happy. I can Just picture the two of us in our little home with our arms around each other, one heart beating against the other, and our llps united in a kiss that comes from the very soul. Dearest, I want you very much at this very moment. Can’t you hear my heart asking for yours? l’m awfully loDe some for you. Won’t you let me be your devoted slave and Swe ¯ the art ? Lee P.S. Best regards to your folks and ~r. and Hrs. Kraus and Stella and Miss McKeon. P.S.2 How much do you love me? Thursday, April 18 Dear Folks, Was made very happy yesterday by receiving two letters, one from Ed and the other from Millard Forster. Both are in France and happy. In case you haven’t their addresses : Ed’s is Co. E, ll6th Engineers, A.E.F., France Millard’s is Co. C., 2nd Provisional Ordnance Batt. A .E.F., France. Neither knows that the other is here. So l’m putting them next to that fact because they might be close to each other and could meet. I don’t know where they are but will try and find out. Perhaps I could be transferred to Ed’s unit, who knows? ][either gave any news as censorship in A.E.F. is stricter than in the B.E.F. Nothing exciting around here. Am slttin8 next to a fine fire in my dugout for it’s a bit windy and cold today even if it is April 18th. About time for spring to really come along. It’s still very peaceful here, although at other points the battle still goes on. Things are pretty bright now, and it looks as though the Boche are definitely checked. Let’s hope so anyway. Our turn will come soon and then look out, Mr. Fritz. Must close now as have to give a lecture to my stretcher-bearers. My love to all. Affect ionate ly, Lee P.S. Don’t worry about Ed. He’s mighty lucky to be with Engineers rather than infantry as the risk is

such less, and he’ll learn so~e things that will be useful to him when he gets back. Engineers never live in the line and seldom less than two miles behind it. Letter #~ Thursday, April 18 Dearest Nina, Last night brought me your letter of March 2pth. The fact that that day stood for three big events, the world’s greatest battle, Good Friday and your birthday annlversa~y made your letter doubly interesting. It was splendid, indeed. The Germans celebrated that day by shelling Paris, one shell killing many at the Good PTiday services in a church ~here. That’s their way of conducting war. Poreed to it by the barbarity of our enemy, we too have adopted similar retaliatory methods. Of all the frightful war measures, gas (poison gas) is to me the worst. It is positively inhuman. To think that Germany would stoop so low as to adopt that way of carrying on the fight. It is like a stab in the back. It is murder, not war. Fortunately, I’ve not as yet met this new weapon, though I’m always well prepared for it. My gas mask goes wherever I And I can readily see why that day was so sad to you. It was sad for all of us. You out there cannot appreciate Just .how sad it is. ButtIhavehe had a taste of it now, enough to fully realize meaning of war. ~hen I see civilians packing their few treasures and fleeing for their lives, when I see cultivated fields being trampled on ruthlessly, when I look around for miles and miles and see nothin~ but water and shell holes and ruins, when I see and tend wounded and glance through the casualty lists, when I understand all this and more, I often wonder that such a thing as war can occur amongst civilized races. But my thoughts always end in the one idea - to help push this war to a quick and decisive end so that the murderer who started it will never again, nor anyone else, be allowed to start another war except in se if-defe nse. I am indeed glad to know that my love to you was your great comfort on your birthday. Next year, God willing, we will celebrate together in each other’s

It is, indeed, fine of you to help in the L~berty Loan Drive. Prom accounts in British papers, the loan is heavily oversubscribed. The American people at

Love, ~ar, and Mediolne


this time will stand no nonsense, and they know that thei~ boys, our boys, are in this battle now and are doing splendidly. Am indeed glad that Mrs. Kraus is doing nicely. Please give her my good wishes, will you, dear? And also to Stella. Your presents must have been nice. You refuse to tell me what Stella and May McKeon gave you - now you’ve aroused my curiosity and I won’t be content till I know. I do hope the trifle I sent you from P6ronne has arrived (a scarf). I was made very happy yesterday, also, by a letter

from Ed and another from one of my old chums, a boy
named Millard Porster. You see, Ed, Millard Porster, ~am Solomon and I formed a sort of ’Big Four’ - we seldom were far from one another. We were and are the best of friends and pals. We always played baseball or tennis or went swimming together. Every Sunday afternoon we would promenade down Michigan Avenue and through Washington Park, always together. We went to parties together and to shows and movies. Truly, we were chums. I left last June - only three left. Ed left in October - only two remaining. Millard Joined up (enlisted) in December. 0nly Sam is still in Chicago and as he is in Class I, he undoubtedly is either called up already or will be soon. So you can see how our old crowd is scattered. Ed only wrote a short note - privates haven’t as much time to write as officers. He’s with the engineers, much to my surprise and great pleasure, as that line is much less dangerous than the infantry. Besides, he will learn a lot that will help him in the future. His address, in case you haven’t it, is Private E. B. Unger, Co. E, ll6th Engineers, A.E.F., France. He says training is pretty stiff. He wants to meet me and I want to meet him. Don’t know where he is and he doesn’t know where I am. He closes: ’Any chance to be with you till the end of the war? Do you need a valet?’ I had a good laugh at that. Would an older brother make a good valet? By now you will have, no doubt, received and answered my #30 to you and you will have either made me the happiest or the gloomiest person on earth. But, dearest, I’m confident it will be the former for I know you love me devotedly as I do you. We will be very happy, Nina, I can promise you that. Am writing this in my little dugout well back of the line. Had an excellent sleep last night and feel fide this morning.

Love, War, and Medicine


Yesterday I finished, for the second ti~e, ’The First Hundred Thousand’ by Jan Hay. The first ti~e l read it was last ~eptember and as I’d only been out a short ti~e I couldn’t appreciate it nearly as much as I do now. It’s a ~arvelous book, Just full of humor add of truth. It gives a most excellent account of life in France. Dearest, I’m goir~ to write to Ed, Millard and ho~e, so I’ll say au revoir to you and am sending you, with this, all ~y love add ~any kisses and hugs. For you are a splendid girl in every way, and one who~ I’ll be very proud to lead down the aisle at so~e future occasion.
Your s ¯ ve r,

Lee Very peaceful here.

Friday, April 19 My dear little girl, Once more with a heart full of love and a head void of news, I sit down in my cheery little dugout to write to the only girl. Lately, I’ve had more -time to spare than usual, and as a result have been able to write to you almost every day and I like to be able to do that. That’s the least I can do for my little queen. Last night’ s mail brought me nothing from you, but, then, I’d be hoggish to expect more when I know you are writing me about every day. It is good of you to spend so much time on me. Dearest, what will we do with the time we will save when you and I meet? I could think of iota of things to do, but what I’m longing for is our little dollhouse. Yes, Just you and I, Nina - and maybe the man in the moon - he won’t tell! A cozy room, one comfy chair, you on my lap, yes, dressed in some soft olir~ing material - your arms around me tightly and mine about you, your head resting contentedly on my shoulder - oh! girl! ~hat Joy! Those will be the happiest hours of my life add I hope of yours, too. Dearest, at times I am so impatient that I can hardly wait. Won,t you please come here and take me in your arms and reassure me that you love me? Won’t you run your fingers through my hair, muss it all up and then comb it again? Won’t you give me those lovely lips of yours? If I could only Just lie in your arms and Just go to sleep there. Yes, I’m yours entirely to do whatever you want me to

X~ve, War, and Medicine


do. No slave was ever so devoted as I. Last night’s mail b~ought me a parcel. Tl~ han~w~itln~ on it was peculiar. I opened the ~a~eel with cu~ioslty. Behold a large tin box. I ~em~ved the lld and the~e i found so~e delicious dainties: figs, candied p~unes, candied ginger, a f~uit cake, raisin~, and a half-dosen packages of Egyptian cigarettes. In the middle was a nsat card with the inscription: ’With ~est wishes and compliments from M~. Louis Deutsoh.’ I certainly was surprised as I hardly know him. He runs a well-pat~onized high-class restaurant and caterer’s place in Chleago and ~y Uncle Will He~st eats the~e almost every noon. I can’t see why he should send me such a swell lot of ’eats’ as he and I are p~aetically strangers. Nevertheless, I can assu~e you the parcel no lon~er exists. I w~ote him a letter of thanks this £.M. Isn’t it nice to be an object of benevolence? I’m going to staFt ’Pidgin’ Island’ tonight and do hope I like it. I should foF I’ve appreciated several of Harold ]/cGFath’s books. How ar~ you, dearest? I’m afraid you’~e not obeying my command for you to get seven-eight hours sleep each night. Please do, da~-ling, foF you know how I want you and want you looking you~ best a~d happiest. Ar~ you happy, Nina? If you eve~ feel despondent, please r~aembeF that the time ts coming when only Joy and happiness shall be ou~s. Do you eat enough? Do you get sufficient exercise? A~e you lonesome? wow a~e M~s. K~aus and Clarence? I do hope you~ mothe~ and all the otheFs a~e well too. Do you think yotte mothe~ will welcome me as a son? And will Ha~y and Clarence and Morris and Gussie and Celia and £dele take ms in to the family? L~t’s see, I’ll be £dele’s uncle, won’t I? That will be nice’. Please kiss he~ fo~ me and I’ll pay you back, with interest, when I see you. Another cuelous thing. You’d Jump from my dad’s niece to his daughter, and from Marie’s and SaFah’s cousin to a sister. ’Twill be interesting, won’t it? But, dear, I can assu~e you m~ folks will be tickled to death when they hea~ the good news. Nina, I’m entirely yours. Please let me be you~ devoted slave and be nice to ms for you are m~ sweetheart and I am Yours to a cinder, Lee I love you. Sunday, April 21

¯ a~m and lovely. Sad news. American Lieutenant MoPgan, I.D. of tha 9th Royal Inniskilling Fusiliers was

Lovo, War, and Medicine


killed in action - he was a fine chap. head and se~s shrapnel hit ou~ hut.

Boche planes over-

Monday, April 22 The Boche sent over sose gas-filled shells (tear gae?). I sneezed for about fifteen minutes; also sent two gassed Tosales to the hospital in addition to six others who were slightly gassed. At 7:00 P.M. a few German big shells landed close to ou~ hut so we beat it to ou~ dugout. Also Just Joined by A~rican Lieutenant No~wood (U.S.M.R.C.), fro~ 139th Field A~bulance of the 41st British Division. Saturday, April 20 Dear Folks, There isn’t anything new about here. Everythin4~ is still peaceful and quiet. Yesterday it was cool and snowed a bit, but today the sun is out brightly and all the snow has disappeared. Just had a nice little walk along the road. It is desolate around here. Not a civilian in sight. Everywhere you see dugouts and sandbags and duckboards, and as far a~s ~0~can see are innmaerable shell holes of all sizes and small stuaps of trees. Here and there you see a little grass, but those places are rare. Mostly it’s not the place wlmre you’d want to go for a summer vacation. Am writing this in a little hut well back of the line. It’s a very clean place compared to some l’ve been in. That’s the big problem out here - keeping clean. As soon as you’re done washing you get dirty again. And even a wash isn’t always satisfactory as frequently the water itself isn’t clean. And when you only have a bucket to wash in, you can imagine it isn’t quite so easy to keep clean out here as it is at ho~e with bathtubs, showers, and running hot and cold water. When I get home I’ii tak~ about a dozen baths one after the other before I feel clean again. No real news today. With loads of love,


Love, War, and Medicine


Lot or

~atu~day, April 20-

Dearest girl, Just five mont~ ago today t~ ~ttle of C~brai e~d, ~d, i~identally, my initiation into the excite~nt of a ~al battle. ~ts of thin~s ~ve ~p~d since to ~ - fighting, ~hi~, ~estin~. ~t above all I p~ize ~ost hilly t~ fact t~t it ~s ~e~ in t~se five mont~ especially ~t I ~ve co~ to reali~ w~t a ~ewel y~ are ~d how indis~nsable you are to ~. In this ti~ I ~ve lea~ed the ~ani~ of t~ word ’love’ and I ~ve discove~d, ~ to my deli~t, t~t I love and am loved to t~ ~l~st extent poesible. ~d I ~ very ~ppy in t~t knowle~e - ~s, ~ppy, even tho~ 3,000 miles of water and la~ separate us at t~ present time. F~ It isn’t often that a l~e me is lucky eno~ to captu~ a g~l li~ you. I received anot~r nice letter from you last ni~t, ~2 written April 21st. ~ly eighteen days across t~t’s not too bad at all. Yes, I too used to play April Fool’s tricks, but out here the British don’t app~ciate the beauties of that day so I di~’t try any stunts on any of t~m. T~y ~ver ~a~d of April Fool’s ~y. You see from this that their education ~s been neglected. ~ sor~, dear, ~ letters ~ ~en so delayed, but you kn~, Mina, t~t t~ postal se~ice was much de~yed on account of t~ B~he offensive. And, of eo~se, d~i~ o~ part of t~ fight and ~treat, I di~’t ~et ~h of a c~nce to write you, and w~n I ~id write I ~d g~at difficulty in ~ettlnE t~ letters posted. Ha~ mo~d a~ain, thou~ only a abort distance. ~ n~ livi~ in a vast subterranean dugout - so t~t it ~s inn~rab~ passages and entr~ces. My ~d Is a st~te~r in o~ of these passages. T~re is a lot of water ever~here and t~ p~ps are kept goi~ day ~d night to kee~ ~ ~y. But I ~ve a~ bla~ets and slept like a top last night. It is still ve~ peace~l. Hardly a shell. Well, dearest, lunch is callin~. And you know AI, as Ri~ ~r~er used to say. T~t’s all for today, ’honey’ (may I not steal t~t word from you - it’s so expressive of h~ sweet you are to ~). You ~ve all of me, ~art, soul and body a~ I’m yours to co,and. Here is a load of love and a b~l of kisses for t~ loveliest Ei~l in t~ world. Yo~ ’ honey, ’ ~e

Love, War, and Medicine

Sunday, April 21st My beloved girl, Last night you~ letter #21 came, the night befor~ #~2 arrived. I’ve already answered the latter, l~unny the way the ~ail corns in, but Just so you~ letters ecru, I won’t complain a bit. No, I don’t mind if you do write me early in the morning as you did #~1, the day Joe left New York. I re~ember one letter you wrote ~e some time ago in which you mentioned you were sitting up in bed writi~ to ~ - you had Just awakened and you ~entioned that you wo~e a beautiful suit of blue pajamas. See what a good ~emory I have? But now that you’ve received a hand~ade nightie for your birthday, which will you wear, the pajamas or the recent gift? But I really should not ask - it’s none of ~y business o~ is it? You uy lecture me severely if you wish and I’ll be meek as a lamb. B~t while on that rather delicate subject, don’t you girls ever have stag parties (only females) and don’t you at these affairs frequently attire yourselves in bizarre costumes~ such as nighties, pajamas, overalls, men’s suits, bathin~ suits, etc. And don’t you sometimes take photos at these occasions? And, if so, don’t you think a copy of you would be good for me? ~ow you’ll realize what an impertinent young man you’ve fallen in love with. But please be lenient with me, dearest, for my excuse is that I love you so much that I want to know all about you. ~o Joe insists he and Ed will be married long before I will. All I can say is they’ll have to get a move on. For, ~earest, if you’ll consent, we’ll get married Just as soon as possible after I return. I want you and want you quickly and you want me. Why should we wait? It will be two-three years after I return before m~ practice will be sufficient to support us, but even so, I don’t want to wait that lon6. Do you? Let me know what you think. Personally, I’d want you within three months of my return. Would that be too early? I’d really prefer though to marry you the day I land--how would that suit you? I suppose, though, it’s not right for either you~ folks or mine to be in such a hurry, but, dearest, I love you so ~ruly I can’t bear to even think of any needless separation. Please let me know your wishes. This is Sunday and it’s a lovely day. But the beauty of it all is spoiled by the ruins all around here. Otherwise, it’ s quiet and peaceful. Last ~eb~uary I wrote a short story called ’With the Tommles at Cambrai’ and sent it into the Paris

Edition of the New York Herald under the nora de plume of James Stevenson. It was a prize competition. Haven’t heard a thi~g about it since, though I haven’t seen a New York Herald since last February. I wonder whether the story has appeared at all. Could you find out for me? The first prize was 2,000 francs (about ~350), second 1,000 francs and i00 francs for each story published. I’m afraid I’m Just as good a story composer as a poet, and as a poet I’m a pretty good baseball player. ¯ hieh reminds me that the baseball season has opened. In the London Times daily in a little footnote it gives the daily scores of the two big leagues. So far two days’ reports have come in and I note New York won the first and Chicago lost. Yesterday I read a delightful article in the April 6th Saturday Evenin~ Post called ’A Canteener in France’ by Elizabeth Frazer. It is very good. Am also starting your book, ’Pidgin Island.’ Just finished a demonstration to my stretcherbearers and medical orderlies of how to put on a Thomas splint. That is a very useful leather and iron affair which is used for fractures of the hip or thigh. The whole application only takes ten-fifteen minutes and contributes materially toward the comfort, lessening of pain and shock and future recovery of the wounded I feel very sad today for a fine American chap had his leg blown off the other day and died shortly afterward from shock. His name was Doctor Morgan and he was attached to my division since last October when he came over from United States. I had met him several times and found him first rate. He was a fine, big, young man and a valiant one, too. He makes the second casualty amon~ United States doctors attached to this division - a Captain Robinson from Cleveland Was captured on the first day of the Boche offensive Just a month

ago today. It is when things like that happen that you really appreciate the bitterness and the tragedy
of war and you say why, why must there be fighting? It is when your own friends succumb that you begin to realize that Sherman was right. This news has made me a bit blue today, and I’m writing to you as I know your vision will stand in front of me and will cheer me up. Dearest, won’t you please sit on my lap and hold me tightly? Just to be with you, to caress you most tenderly, and to meet your lips with mine, would be heaven for me. I promise you, honey, that I will be yours till death. I’II be as true as can be to you,

both when we’re separated and when we’re together. And you 8hall be a vital par~ of ~e and shall share in Joys and so, rows. Dearest girl, I love you ~adly and Itd do anythir~ fo~ you. Please, 1~ina, ask me to do somthin~ fc~ you - Just to prove ~y devotion. Be sured I shall do it if it’s in my power. Here’s a long, sweet kiss for you, my darling girl, and a most vigorous hug. Both are dictated by my heart which is Just choked-full of the choicest of love for my little queen. Ever your Lee Wednesday, April 2~ Only noteworthy happening was my poor sleep (rats all over) plus the bed broke at 2:00 A.M. and I cussed. There are so many rats - big ones - that they almost walked off with me. They ate my chocolate and even a button on my raincoat. At i0:00 P.M. Captain Pickens relieved me and back I went to the place called "Irish Farm" followed by a bath, clean pajamas and a good sleep.

Monday, April 22
Dearest Nina, ~

Still in the same old dugout and still the same general peace and quiet. A few shells once in a while, but very few and we’re safe as can be. Funny thing - found a good Spalding baseball bat out here in a little hut. Don’t know where it came from. It’s mine now. I wonder who brought it here. The sight of it and the feel of it as I practiced hitting ’era out this morning has caused me to be badly bitten by that dreadful bug which is called baseball-iris. I have a fiery desire to get out now as in old-ti~e days - to heave ’era over the plate (I used to pitch), to hit ’era far (I used to bat ¯ 400 in our Sunday morning league), and also I have an insane desire to growl at the umpire and to coach the runners as I always did. The music, the appeal

of the diamond have hit me between the eyes. I’m prostrate beneath the feet of his majesty the game of baseball. Oh, for a good old-time swatfest contest, say with a score of 22 to 21. But, alas, all these British people know out here are cricket and soccer football - neither comparable with the game of the good old horsehide. The fact that you understand and appreciate baseball add other good sports makes one more link in the unbreakable chain which binds you to me. We have common tastes, ideas, ideals and ambitions. We are intent on attaining as high as possible to the heights of mental, moral and physical perfection though neither of us is a prude, I’m glad to say - I hate them. In our true and pure devotion to one another, even now, though separated, we are climbing slowly but steadily. And, oh gi~l, when we are united, we will reach the pinnacle of true love and happiness. Just finished ’Pidgin Island’ - very good. Also recommend ’Never A~aln’ in April 6th Saturday Evening Post - excellent. I note that the Metropolitan Magav-ins has been suspended - it certainly should be for to me that article ’Is America Honest?’ by Win. Hard was the most treacherous and loathsome article I ever read. It was foul. Did you read it? Dearest, there isn’t anything excitin~ to tell you about today except to repeat, as I’ve done over and over again in the last few months, that I’m waiting patiently and hopefully for the time when I can call you my wife, when I can wake up in the mornir~ and kiss you, wben I can sit opposite you at meals, when I can kiss you hello add good-by and between times, when I can whisper good-night into your willing ears and fall asleep with you in my arms and your cheek touching mine. Girl, that’s what I’m wishing for and praying for. That, together with all the sympathy and understanding which exists and will increase between us. Just loads of love, honey, and a bushel of tender kisses. Your swe e the art, Lee Tuesday, April 23 Dear Polks, Have received no mail from home for several days and expected some last night, but no luck - not even a newspaper. Here’s hoping for better luck next time.

Everythin~ is quite peaceful here. Th~ sun is out today and it’s warm and fide. I have a companion here now, a Texas doctor named No~wood. Like me he’s attached to the British and fern a few days he and I will be living in the same aid poet. He left New York last October and was in E~land at a hospital ther~ for five months, add now in P~ance for shoat a month. He’e a fine chap. It’s certainly good to meet so~son~ f~om the Unlt~d States of America. We have great sport together. He’s writing a letter to his wife in Texas Dew - I haven’t any wife to w~Ite to, but think I’ll have to get one soon, that is, after the

I/st a British doctor yesterday who belongs to the same ambulance ae Dave Homer did when he flrat cams out here. This ambulance went to Italy last autumn, but Homer was detached from It. ~here he is now I haven’t the least idea. This officer thought a good deal of him. Received my pay for I/arch yesterday and sent it, as usual, to Cox & Co., Boulogne. I have about 3,000 francs in the bank there (about ~525) and as soon as I hear that the ~00 I sent you on February 6th has come, I’ll send over about ~500. So let me know. Lots of love to everyone. Affe e t ionate ly, Lee I’m feeling A~I.

T~s sday, April 23 D~are st girl, No lu~k last night. Not a bit of mail for me not even a newspaper. Here’s hoping for better luck tonight. Had a bit of excitement yesterday, tho~h nothing mush to speak of. About lO:O0 A.I/. we were sitting i..n the hut when we heard a whistle and a thud as a Boche shell landed about thirty yards away across the road. We immediately removed ourselves to our dugout and stood in the entrance. The wind was blowin~ from the place where the shell landed towards us. In a few seconds I felt a ticklish sensation in my nostrils and began to sneeze as rapidly as I could. This kept up for about fifteen minutes. All the other shape with me were also sneezi~ away. It finally dawned on us that we bad all been slightly gassed with what has been nicknamed ’tear’ gas. We only reeelved the benefit of a bit of it, so didn’t need to put on ou~ gas masks. I/y first personal

Love, War, and Medic ine


experience with gas. I’m perfeetly O.K. again, in fact, in about half an hour I had forgotten all about it. Only that bit of news today. Otherwise things are very quiet and peaceful, as before. The sun is out today and it’ s beautiful. Honey, l,m lonesome for you. I’m a bit tired of this bachelor life; I want you and want you quickly for I love you most devotedly. There’s nothing that makes a ~an detest baohelordom so ~uch as a few months out here where he sees nothing but ~en and more ~en. He quickly sickens of the so-called freedom if he is like me and he longs for the pleasant shackles of double life. I call them ’shackles’ but to me those ties are to be the cords of love, sympathy, honor and tenderness which shall bind you and ~e together till ’death do us part.’ And until that time orns, we shall live for one another and for humanity and I know we ’ 11 be very happy. Your sweetheart, Lee Loads of kisses and hugs.

Frida7, April 26
After a long walk to review our transport sanitatien, our battalion left at 12:15 A.M. and ~arched back to the Canal Bank and I relieved Captain Sowerby in a fine Advanced Dressing Station (A.D.S.). This became my new R.£.P. I took care of about fifteen wounded, some serious. Captain Russell of the 109th Pield Ambulance Joined our group, along with Captain Hay of the A.D.M.S. TWo of our battalion received slight wounds. Letter #50 Wednesday, April 2~ My dearest girl, Once more hard luck: No mail from you at all nor from anyone else in United States. Again we hope for better luck tonight. It seems like a long time sines

I heard from you, yet, on consultin~ my invaluable pocket diary (the o~e you sent me) I find It’s only fou~ days. Still, fou~ days seems a long time when it means four days without word from you. I did get one letter, though, from Ed. I can’t make out Just where he is, but he’s somewhere near Base Hospital 7 (wherever that is). He hadn’t received my letter as yet. He speaks of listenin~ to Blsle Janis at the Cirque Theatre and enjoying the performance immensely. I’ll write him again this afternoon. This morning is cooler and misty, but otherwise peaceful. Lieutenant Norwood, the Texan doctor I wrote you about yesterday, is sitting by my side. He and I had a good time yesterday tradin~ experiences and yarns. Besides, we played ’casino’ and he taught me some of the elements of ’pitch.’ All in all, it’s very nice to have company. But, gee whiz! Ho~ I’d like to have you here instead. No, I wouldn,t either for it’s not a place for a woman, especially one like you. It’s not the cleanest place in the world - dugout life isn’t the most pleasant existence imaginable, though it has the big advantage - it’s safe. Last nlg~t, or rather at 2~00 A.¥. this morning, you would have lectured me for profane language had you heard me. About a battalion or two of rats marched over my bed and my bead. I woke up, sat up with a start and then mY bed (a stretcher laid across two wooden boxes) gave way and laid me on the floor. ~ surely did cuss - and out loud, too. X had to get out from the blankets, fix up the bed, and crawl in again. Then ~ lit a candle and kept it going the rest of my sleep - that kept the rats from becoming too troublesome again. I don’t llke rats! Yes, much as I 10n8 for you, I’m glad you’re in New York where I won’t worry about you. I can’t help worrying a little even now, but I have such complete faith and confidence in you that I keep that sort of thinking down to a minimum. All I know is that I love and trust you absolutely. ~ wouldn’t care whom you met or where - I know you are true to me and will always be so. As far as I’m concerned, there’s only one girl in the world who is for me and she is the sweetest, loveliest and dearest little lady there is. May God bless her and keep her. I love her wholeheartedly and most devotedly. Many kisses. Her own


X~ove, War, and Medicine


Lette~ #51 Thursday, April 25 Woney, Does my face register a wee bit of disappointment this morni~? Yes, I was again let down by His Majesty the postman - no letters from you again nor from anyone else in United States of America. T did get a brief note from A1 Barnett. He’s not so busy as he was as things have quieted down a bit. He was very sorry to hear about Mrs. Kraus’ illness. Incidentally, he says, ’Stella is a mighty good sport.’ Peculiar that that’s my opinion, too. She surely is a good kid, don’t you agree with me? Wish my brother Ed would realize it too. The rats here in this dugout are not trained right they’re too savage. Some of them are as big as cats almost. Last night they got at my companion’s (Doctor No~wood’s) haversack and they bit big holes in a bar of chocolate he had there, they bit into his tube of cold cream (he’s a vain man to carry that, isn’t he?), and they even nibbled the cork fitting of a flute he carries with him. Yes, the rats here are not taken care of as they should be - they’re not fed often enough. I’ve already learned the wisdom of carrying nothing with you that might tempt those unlovely beasts. Outside of a skirmish with these animals everything has been very peaceful. The sun is out today and the ground is rapidly d~ying up from a heavy rainfall last night. S~elling is still conspicuous by its absence. I’m sitting in the little hut with the sun coming in for I only stay down in the dugout at night. Dearest, I do hope I get at least one letter from you in tonight’s mail for I can’t help worrying a bit about you. You have taken a hold on me so strongly that I imagine all sorts of accidents which could happen to you. Last night I had a pleasant though brief d~eam. d~eamed that the postman brought me a big sackful of letters, all from you. I was looking over the envelopes and feeling very happy when a doggone rat tried to crawl into bed with me. I woke up very dazed, still thinking the letters were here. Then I kicked the rat out by way of protest at the disillusionment. But I do know you love me dearly Just as I do you. Some day, in our little dollhouse, you and I are going to be very, very happy and I can hardly wait till that time comes. But when it does, girl, oh girl, what Joy and contentment will be ours. For I’m sure there has never been any love any stronger than ours. All my love and many hugs add kisses. Yours forever, Lee

April 26
D~are st glrl, Last night and tonight T again drew blanks - no mall at all fc~ me except a medical Journal. Not a word from my dear g~l in New York. £nd I am disappointed for I was so confident I’d hear from yo~-tonight. But ’c~est le guer~e,’ as the l~ench say, so can’t complain. I know it’s not you~ fault, dearest, for you’ve been awfully good w~iting me so often. Lately I’ve had time and have been trying to write you ever~y day. Am way back now as we*re been relieved and are out of the lids now. I’m w~iting this by cand~light in ou~ nice little mess hut. Things are still uneventful her~, though ther~ seems to be plenty of action at other pa~ts of the line. The Americans seem to be bearing tbeir slm~ of the scrap vet7 well indeed. I suppose United States is at last waking up to the fact that there’s a real war on. But I’m very confident that we’ll pull through O.K., though it may take another year or even more to do the Job thoroughly. Just finished ’K.C.B.’ and had some good laughs some of the articles are very fUnny. Am passing that book and ’Pidgin Island’ around. Outsi~s of a five mile walk this afternoon, nothing exciting happened to me in the last th~ty-six hours. Oh, yes, I m~ght remark I once more performed the acrobatic stunt of taking a bath in a rubber collapsible bathtub - y~a, and I had a young flood on the floor as the tub lived up to its reputation and collapsed. Am not ver~ cheer7 tonight so T,m w~lting to you as I know that will make me feel better. Yes, any time I think of you or w~tte to you makes me feel happy all over. You’~e a wonderful g~l, Nina, even when so far away you have a perfectly marvelous ir~luence over me I wouldn’t have ewr believed, a year ago, that anyone could ever get to dominate me so completely. And yet when I go to do a thing now, I always ask myselfwhat would Nina think about it, and if I think she mightn’t like it, I don’t do it, that’s all. It was that way in Paris, especially. There were several times in Paris when the temptation was strong and I wavered and thought ’What’s the use of being good all the time?’ And on these occasions you came to the rescue each time though you didn’t know it. Each time I realized you wouldn’t like it, so I held aloof. And, dearest, I can’t thank you enough for the good you have already done for me, and I know how much more you have in sto~e for me in the future. To he in love with, and to be loved by, a glrl of such sweet and

Love, War, and Medic Ins


pu~e and unselfish mind, is a priceless possession and I ~eali~e fully how fortunate I me. Yes, honey, I love you most unselfishly. My greatest delight would be doin~ somethir~ fo~ you. You a~e the only human being in this world in whom I can and dc confide, the only human bein~ who I want for the r~st of my llfe, whom I shall pet and adore and work fo~ and pray for and watch over as though my own self and, even mo~e, girl, you don’t know what a hold you have on me. You~ fai~ face is befor~ me almost all the time; I see it the last thing at night and the first thir~ in the mornin~. Tonight I’m Just choked-fUll of love for you. Nina, dear, I don’t know what I’d do if I had you here. I know I’d Just hu~ you and squeeze you and caress you and fondle you and kiss you over and over again, and I wouldn’t ever want to let go of you. You’d sit on ~y lap and rumple my hair and I’d put my head on you~ shoulder and be most content. And then I’d Just gather you to me tightly a~ain and kiss you some more. And I’d coax you~ head over Ny way and take the hair~ins out of you~ glorious hair and kiss each strand. No, we wouldn’t say a word to each other - we’d be silently happy. Girl, I’d give most anything for even one hou~ with you, sixty minutes, of priceless happiness and Joy. Itm awfully lonesome tonight for you, sweetheart I want you badly. I keep longing all the time for you and for ou~ little dollhouse when you and I, dear, will have become the tmaest and most steadfast of pals and ohtms. I pledge you, Nina, that I shall be Yours through life, Lee

Saturday, April 27 Deaz~ st Found a lot of this ~ood stationery goi~ to ~loosen so~ of it on you. You’re too far away to say ’no’ so 1,11 ~ ~ad. ~ feeli~ ~y chippe~ this afternoon ~ause livi~ in a ~e~la~ palace now. I moved a~ain - at mi~ight last night - and ~ve t~en cha~ge of a bi~

establis~ent which beg~ as a main hospital, then beca~ an adv~ced dressi~ station and now is my regi~ntal aid post. And it certainly is the ~ndiest p~oe I~ve been in in a Io~ t i~. outs in t~ side of a high ba~. Each d~out ~s a hea~ ~on roof, ~d that is f~t~r covered with ~ny

It consists of a n~r of large, clean, big ~g-

Love, ~ar, and Medicine


sandbags so that t1~ shelters are shellproof. I a~ in charge here, and have a swell room with a regular iron bed with a regular mattress on it and sheets and blankets. Besides this, there is a big messroem where I dine in lordly style by myself - my barman cooks for and waits on me. Disgraceful though it is, I m~st, admit I had breakfast at twelve noon, Just a couple of hours ago and at about 3|00 P.M. I’m goiD~ to have lunch (steak, potatoes, fried onions, bread and butter, cocoa). How does that appeal to you? But, dearest, won’t you please alt down on my lap and 8hare my meal? I have only one plate, one spoon, one fork and one knife, but that will be sufficient for the two of us, won’t it, Nina? Please come here and let me feed you. Besides this big fine messroom~which, by the way, has four most comfortable chairs (all donated by t~e British Red Cross) and a comfortable stove, I ~ave an office for myself - I don’t know what I need it for, but it’s here. Throughout there is electric lighting, plenty of water, baths, tailor shops, bootmakers’ places, etc. It’s a pity we can’t take full advantage of the surroundings. Other advantages are loads of books, magazines and papers left behind. I’m reading an excellent ’Life of Lord Kitchener’ now - the greatest soldier of modern England. It’ s good. There is one thing lacking in this beautiful place and that is beautiful you. You’ll say to me I’m flattering you, but, dearest, I never flatter where you’re concerned. You are beautiful, for, besides your nice features, lovely skin, and well-kept teeth and glorious hair, your eyes convey unmistakably your wonderful goodness and kindness, sympathy, and purity. No other girl has ever so appealed to me, though I have met many. You have that magnetic personality which draws me to you as though I were a bit of steel attracted by the force of magnetism. Is it any wonder, then, that with your beauty, both mental, moral and physical, I fell in love with you - and most desperately. The wonder would have been had I held aloof. Dearest, you ha~e conquered me completely, and giving you happlness and Joy will be one of my greatest desires in our future life. Did I tell you in yesterday’s letter about the encounter with the Boche plane? I don’t think I did. At any rate, I came out of my aid post yesterday noon and heard a tremendous buzzing. Very soon I saw an aeroplane flying very fast and not more than 100 feet

Love, War, and Medlelne


fro~ the ~Tound, goin~ like the very dickens for the Boche lids. It was very misty and at first I could not dete~ine whether it was a Boche or British plane. But then as it sped over us, I saw the black i~on cross on it (German insignia}. It ca~e and went so suddenly we were all taken by sttr~rise. A few hasty rifle shots were fi~ed at it by ou~ ~en and also a machine ~un poppopped at it a bit. He went on and then somethin~ went w~ong - perhaps one of ou~ bullets hit his engine anyhow, he came down not far away. The two GeP~an pilots in the plane landed unhuPt and az~ now prisoners. ’Twas exciti~ while it lasted. Enough for today, darling. I’m livin~ in hopes that tonight’s mail will be the lucky oDs for me. If so and I hear you a~e O.K. I will be very, very happy. Yean~hile you have all mY love and please, also, accept a dozen long, tender kisses and one-half dozen

assorted hugs. You may return them with interest on some future occasion.

Ever your

Sunday, April 28

Took care of twent~ wounded- one died here and s~ others were severely wounded. Captain Russell and £~erican Lieutenant Mosb~ helped ~e care for the wounded. That night played some bridge with Padre Watson, Captain Russell and Lieutenant Scott of the 15th Royal Irish Rifles. Learned that our troops had to fall back a bit and the important Kemmel Hill was captured by the Boche. Our guns kept flrin~ heavily.
Saturday, April 27 Dear Folks, I received a nice letter from Ed four days ago that was the second from him since he landed. He’s highly pleased with France. I don’t know Just where he is, but am sure it’s somewhere way back at the base. I don’t suppose we’re close to each other, but will keep in touch with-him and will a~ran~e a meetir~ on

Love, War, and Medicine


the first opportunity. We’~e way back of the line now add I’m ~unning a d~essinK station. Talk about class - I’ve the best quarters I’ve had in a long time. I’m in charge here and so have the pick of everything. The weather has been p~etty decent lately and fairly warm. I suppose by now it’s war~ir~ up in Chicago, too. How go tennis and baseball? I see the London Times every day, and note in a little footnote that the baseball season is on and that Chicago wins occasionally. But I’m so far away I must say I’ve lost a lot of inretest in these affairs. Affe c t i onate ly,


Dea~e st, Today is extromely peaceful, Just as though both sides had declared a sort of truce on this day of rest. No guns a~e heard at all. Not even an aeroplane seems to be up today. If it weren’t for the fact that I’m living in a dugout I could almost imagine that peace had been declared. You can bet your bottom dollar that the minute peace is declared, I’m going to forsake dugouts fo~ good.--Oh, boy, won’t it feel good to go about the open with no fear of a sniper or a 5.9 inch shell or shrapnel, and won’t it be splendid to walk about minus the steel helmet and gas mask? I suppose you often wonder, Just as I used to, Just how ~en felt when under fi~e. Well, since you ar~ my chum and I can confide in you implicitly, I may say frankly I don’t like the ordeal at all, and I have yet to ~set the man who does. They can say all they want to about fir,-eaters and that so~t of rot, but I haven’t yet met the man who cou~ts danger Just for the love of it. By this I mean I have not yet met the man who would forsake a safe dugout, for example, and go over to a region which was bein~ shelled heavily, Just for the sake of getting into danger. Of course, if his duty demands he goes there, that’s a different story. We all must do ou~ duty. But to ~ush out where you’re not supposed to be and a~e uselessly exposing yourself is an action most beneficial to Ge~nany. Here’s how I feel when I’m in danger. If I’m busy, I feel pretty fair; I do ~y work and try to keep as calm as though at home - I’m afraid I’m not entirely successful at the apt. If I’m not busy,

Lo e, ar, and Ysdic:ine


merely waiting, and have nothin~ to do, I seek the best shelter possible for ~y men and for myself and Just wait. ~avln~ protected ourselves as well as possible, I then am more or less a fatalist - that is, I try to be - I say to myself, ’Well, if I’m hit, I’m hit. It’s no use worrying about it.’ But, even then, I’m not wholly successful. I do worry some, for I’m as fond of health and life as the next one. l~rom this you can see I feel much better when I’m busy durin~ a ’strafe’ than when I’m not. ¯hen we’re in a safe dugout, like the one we were in at the Cambrai stunt, we don’t mind hc~ much they shell us. I remember we sat in that little 2 x 4 du~out and had a good time while the Boche landed shell after shell on our roof and wrecked the entrance. My batman kept saying, ’It’s desperate, it’s desperatel’ We Just laughed at him and kept Jokir~ about when the next shell was due. But du~in~ the last battle (St. Quentin) we had no protection at all. We were out in an open field with only the slight shelter of a Io~ bank. That wasn’t so good and when we all had to retreat after holdin~ back the Boche for twenty-six hours, thirds weren’t pleasant at all. Bullets whizsed by us continually, and I distinotly remember thinkin~ what poor chance we had of gettin8 away unwounded. We Just walked on, though, and we were indeed surprised to find ourselves O.K. when we got out of dan~er. D~rin~ that time, somehow, there was no such thln~ as fear - perhaps we had enoug~ to do Just to ma~ch. There I felt as fatalistic as possible. Do you mind, dear, my revealing my innermost thoughts to you? I would never d~eam of so confiding in anyone else, but you have become a part of me - a vital part, and I knee you will understand me Just as I try to and do understand you. Confidin~ in you is becomin~ a habit since I’ve learned the true meanin~ of love. And I,m very happy to have found out that I’m head over heels in love with the dearest darlin~ there is. There aren’t enough adjectives in the En~llsh language to express how devotedly I love you. Please, Nina, bend over here and lay your head on my shoulder and raise your lips to mine. It’ s wonderful. And now another and another. And as I gather you in my arms, ~y whole bein~ is saturated with a thrill of most complete happiness. Somehee, it is at night when all is quiet and I’m tucked under the blankets that I miss you especially. I simply reach out and gather you to me while T pass contentedly into the Land of Nod. Dearest, I love you deeply and I’m Yours entirely,


Love~ War, and Medicine


%onday, April ~9 BIB~. HA~ ACC~I~D ME! I certainly a~ fortunate to ~et a gi~l like her. I will always be t~ue to her. I am very happy tonight; what a change in twenty-four hours.

Mo-day, A~ril 29
My dearest wife, Yes, I ~ay no~ call you that although we ~ve yet ~en fo~l~ ~ited. But we a~ now fo~ally ple~ed to e~ snotty. To sa~ t~t I a~ ~pp~ toni~t is to put it ~ildly. l’a ~i~ly in ~aven. A ~eat content ~s ~o~ ove~ ~ f~ I’~ n~ ass~d t~t so~ day ~ou will ~ ~i~. Not t~t I ~ve doubted you f~ t~ ~st few ~onths, but still it’s nice to ~ ~ass~ed and in such a lovi~ way. ~st sight I was bl~ as indigo. I had ~d no ~ail fF~ you no~ f~o~ ho~ fo~ about ten days. Tonight w~t a e~e~ I~ Just bubbling ove~ with ~ppi~ss ~d would l~e to si~ o~ ~out out ~ deep content. ~d this eh~e is due to t~ fact that t~ post~n bFo~ht ~ letteFs f~ ~ou, N~s ~, ~, ~, ~7 and two extra o~s dated April 7th. Add to this ~eeived a nice lette~ f~o~ Stella a~ two fFo~ bFotheF Paul, and you will see ~at a wo~eF~l feeli~ ~s ~ in its ~a~ ~trl, I do wish you’d not wor~ about ~ as you do. I pFomise you I will ~ver ~ after ~less ~ duty de~nds it, for as I’~ ~ttten yeu seveFal t~s a e~p who e~oses htmse~ needlessly not doing a se~ioe to his country. So please, holy, tht~ of this w~n the ~ils are delayed ~ t~t I~m over he~ w~itt~ as often as I c~. ~tely I~ ~en ~itl~ daily thou~ I can’t always to do as well. ~ust thi~ w~n you feel depressed, how I love you ~d h~ ~ppy we will be. ~ love will ~ all the mo~e wo~th-while for t~ sepaFation now existing. But, ~ver fea~ but what we’ll ~e up foF this peFiod w~n wa~ keeps us apart. I am glad the scarf arrived and you like it. I do hope you will always wear it in the best of health. May I be the official adjustor when I return. Gee whiz, I’ll have to take lessons, I suppose, in the a~t of buttoning up and into the mysteries of kooks and eyes, won’t I? But please be merciful to me.

~ove, ~ar, and Medicine


Yes, dearest, I do appreciate the fact that you reveal your thoughts to me as you have never done to anyode else before. You have opened your heart, soul and mind to me, have told me things seldom told and have confided in me completely. By so doing you have let me know unmistakably that you are pure gold, sound to the eore.llsO0 Andpl,.M.on my part, returnedsecrets from you. Have Just have no from an interruption. A Tommy Just arrived at this dressin~ station with a bullet hole through his wr~st, Just between the two bones, not touching either one, luckily. But the bullet did cut an artery and he lost some blood on the way here. I packed his wound and stopped the bleeding. He’s now lying on a stretcher in my dressing room and will soon be evacuated by motor ambulance to the main dressing station several miles away and from there to a casualty clearing station. Prom there he ’ Ii quickly reach a base hospital and will no doubt reach ’Blighty,’ as the Tommies call Great Britain, in a day or two. It is cases such as this where you know you have done some good for you have stopped the mad from bleeding to death, and those are the kind of cases where a feeliDg of pleasure comes over you because you realize you’ve been of help. To return to answer your letters. I don’t know whether that nee parcel regulation applies to officers or to those of us in the B.E.F. At any rate, it really doesn’t matter much to me as I’ve plenty to eat, and practically need nothing. All I want are letters and more letters from my sweetheart. Those are the best gifts s~e can bestow on me at the present time. In the future -well, that’s another question altogether. I certainly shall demand more then. As to writing Major Hardie, you certainly may if you wish. No harm can come of it. If May (you always call her May, thongh I suppose I should call her Miss McKeon) gives you permission, it’s all right with me. Am so sorry to hear headaches bother you so. I do hope worry isn’t causing them. What are they due to, do you know? No, I don’t think much of aspirin for headaches though some people seem to derive benefit from it. In any case, take no more than absolutely necessary - never more than ten grains at a time nor more than fifteen-twenty grains a day. Please don’t use much of it as it’s a habit former. I think five grains phenacetin is much better though that drug too must be used with discretion. Dearest, you say nothing would please you mo~e than getting into a negligee and sitting in the little room with my arms about you and your bead on my

Love, War, and Medicine

Following Page 371



As a wounded British officer or a Tommy pictures his stay in England after he returns with his mild wound (a "Blighty").

Love, War, and )/ediolne


shoulder and then you would fall asleep. All I can say is that nothing would please me more either than to clasp you tightly and watch over you as you succumbed to the magic of the sandman. And I do want you in a negligee. Thou6h not conventional, you and I no longer need be bothered with that - we can do what we like in the future. And I like you in some pretty negligee, for in that costume I know you will appeal to me more than in ordinary clothes. Besides, I warn you you had better wear something soft for I’m going to squeeze you till you e~y for mercy. No, you don’t need to apologize for wishing to fall asleep in my arms. I’ii love to have you do that, and in return I’d love to fall asleep in you~ lap with you caressing me softly and sweetly as only you can do. Stella w~ote me what a brick you have been helping take care of I/~s. K~aus and she Just confirms my good opinion of you. You stand by your friends at all times aa I know you’ll stand by me in the future. And now we come to the best and last letter, Number ~7. This is the vital one, you remember, in which you pledge yourself to me in answer to mY letter #30. I have read and reread it already, although it only came a few hours ago, but its beauty increases with study of it. It is delightful and by far the most human letter you’ve written to me. You tell me things most trustingly and I will not abuse your confidence in me. But the main point is that you’ve made me so happy by giving yourself to me. It is wonderful. I never dl-eamed a year ago that there existed any girl like you. Just to think that the loveliest girl in the world has accepted me quite takes my breath away and I don’t know Just what to say in reply. But I do want to assure you, sweetheart, fianc6e, wlfe-to-be, honey, dears st Nina Kle Inman that I love only one girl and that is you; that I will be faithful to you till death; that I will do my beat to keep you happy. Your wish will always be mine. Everything I have will be shared with you. My secrets will be your secrets. You will never have cause to regret your decision, dearest, of that I’m confident. I do realize your hardships in giving up mother, brothers and sister, and friends - all to Join yourself to me, a poor man who will not be able, at least at first, to give you the comforts and luxuries you’re accustomed to have. And I appreciate how much you must love me to make these severe sacrifices. I feel thrilled to think that you are so devoted to me. One statement of yours puzzles me a bit. You say you never expected to marry a Jewish man. Hay I ask

Love, War, and Medicine


why? Personally, though I haven’t any deep leanir~ toward orthodox Judaism, I would never marry anyone but a ~ewess as such a betrothal would break the heart ef ~y folks, especially of ~y grandmother (Will’s mother). It is very generous of you, dear, to offer your money to fur~Ish our home. I hope I won’t need it. You are right, though, about paying my grandmother the $i,000 I owe her before we marry - it isn’t best to start llfe together while we’re owing money. I know it is disagreeable to mix finance and love, but it’s necessary to let you know how matters stand. At the present time, I have about $i,000, I think, besides a couple of years’ paid-up on a $5,000 policy at Mutual Life Insurance Company, New York. If the war keeps up another year or two, I’ll have a ~retty fair surplus as I’m getting altogether about ~00 a month and have very slight expenses (about $30 a month for my food - say $50 a month altogether). And if I get promoted that will mean about $500 a year extra. 8o that’s not so bad, is it? You know, dearest, I could remain in the a~y if I wanted to and be a regular. ~nat do you think, of that? Would you like me to do that? Yes, I, too, think our agreement should be kept secret for the time being. I’m glad, though, that you told Stella - I know you can trust her. She’s been tried and found true. Do you know I might very easily have succumbed to 8tells if I hadn’t met you? I do wish Ed would look devotedly on her. I think I’ll tell ~d about our engagement and no one else. You don’t mind? Tell me, what did Stella say when you told heft As to the two courses you suggest, I don’t know which is better. Suppose we leave this whole subject of marriage d~op for the time being, especially as the war is far from finished. We’ll have plenty of time to talk about that. But one thing - I do agree with you that the sooner we’re united the better. Of course, I would like the ceremony as soon as we meet. Dearest, it ’ s after midnight. This letter has taken me longer than usual as I’ve had to ponder over some things you’ve read above. Now it’s time for me to get into bed. If I could only have you here, dear glrl, so I could seal our compact in the proper way, I would be even happier than I am. I’d simply crush you to me. My heart would pound away at yours, my arms would hold you tightly, though tenderly. And I’d taste the sweetness of your llps, you~ cheeks, your hair - I’d want to eat you up - almost. Please, Nina sweetheart, won’t you sit on the side of my bed a~d let me put my

Love, War, and Medicine

head in you~ lap and won’t you Just soothe me asleep? l~ankly, honey, I don’t want you to leave me at all. I want to clasp you to ,~ and fall asleep in you~ arms. I want to feel your lips as sleep takes me. And I want to wake up to find you still with n~. Do you honestly feel that way too? I’d never even suggest anythin~ similar to anyone else, nor even to you up to tonight when you’ve pledged yourself to me forever, l’m merely sort of anticlpati~. I can’t help thinkir~ about you and ~ can’t help w~iting you what I think. I do hope I’ve not offended you - please let me know. Now, sweetheart, a Io~, sweet kiss and a fond good night. May God bless and keep ~y future wife. Yours most tenderly, Lee P.S. We’re still in the same place and it’s still quite peaceful. I have another United 3tates doctor here with me now, a chap by the name of Mosby f~om

Tuesday, April 30th About ~:00 P.M. four German shells fell nea~ the

150th Company of the Royal Engineers close by our Canal
Bank. Two men were killed. A Sergeant Major suffered a chunk out of one thigh; another Toemy a piece through his lur~; a Belgime soldier was hit in his side.
Letter #56 Tuesday night, April 30 My darling girl, In the last twenty-four hours since your letter ~7 came (alor~ with six others), I have been very happy. I feel as though l’m walking in the clouds. And all because you’ve consented to share my llfe with me. Girl, you have made me a resident of heaven. I am very proud to have won you for you are a gem. I have Just finished readln~ over your last nine letters and I love every one of them. Of course is the most-prized and I shall carry it with me always, along with the smiling photo enclosed in an older letter you sent me. You hint l’m in for a rough time in the culinary llne - well, I can stand it. l’m not worried a bit

Love, War, a~d Medicine


you can’t scare me. No, nor with your admisslons of bein~ extravagant and bullheaded, etc. I’ll take you Just as you are and you’ll have to take me with ~y ~any greater faults. Especially a~ I at ti~ss profane will you please break me of that habit - out here that habit tends to become exaggerated. We’re without the softeniD~ and refinin~ influence of women. ’C’est Is ~erre. t In re~ard to another ~atter. I have received another parcel of candy and a letter from ~y friend Berenice Ladewick. Her frequent letters and parcels have worried ~e a bit. I a~ not conceited, but I know that ~any girls have lost their heads over the glitter and fascination of the uniform. So tonight I wrote her and told her plainly that I like her (she is a good girl) and was proud to be her friend; I h~d she had not euccumbed to the epidemic of unifa~itis; but, in any case, and to avoid any future misunderstandtr~s that might arise, I told her bluntly she and I could never be more than friends. I didn’t tell her why, but assured her tbe cause had nothing to do with her personally. I closed with the hope we should continue to be as good friends in the future as we have been in the past. Tell me, Nina, do you think I did right? Ought I ha~s kept quiet and said nothing? Good-ni~ht, honey, and God bless you. You have ~ade life real for ~e and have ~ade ~e content. And I, on my part, shall always be Your faithful Lee ’ Bonne nuit, ma cherie ! ’ April 30th Dear Paul, Received two nice letters from you last night, those of April Ist and 9th, and as they were the first I’d received from home in about two weeks, you can imagine how glad I was to hear from you, especially as all at ho~e are O.K. Yes, I used to be a horseback rider, but haven’t been on a horse no~ for almost a month as I haven’t had a chance. But I’ll teach you how when I get back. 8o you have been buying thrift stamps and payi~ for you~ Liberty .Bond. Has Joe bought any for me? Did he get that ~00 I sent him on February 6th? have some more to send him, but shall wait till I hear he received that draft before doing so. Tell Joe to let me know my balance. Yes, as I wrote home I’ve had two letters from Ed since he landed in PTance. I have written him

Love, War, and Medicine


twice. He’s not veT close to ~e, thou~ I don’t kno~ Just where he is. You want to know all about hospitals ~t ~re. ~ell, it would t~e a book to ~ite all about it. But it’s s~thi~ 1~ this in t~ B.E.~.: w~n a ~n is wo~d In t~ li~, ~ wa~s o~ is carried by the battalion streto~r-bearers (~o wear an a~ ba~ with letters S.B. in ~d) to the ~gi~ntal aid post (R.A.P.). ~ ~ is seen by t~ medical officer (I’m o~) ~d his wo~ is ~ased, a~ ~ is given his ticket which permits h~ to go on ~~r. If ~ is lightly wo~ded, ~ gets a white ticket; if d~gerously, a white ticket with ~i e~es. On this ticket Is noted the ~n’s n~, ra~, n~ber, regi~nt, nat~ of wo~d, t~at~nt, a~ s~nat~ of the ~dical officer. Es~cial attentlo~ is given to putti~ down any mo~hine given and ~e exact ti~ of giving it. ~ ~ R.A.P. t~ wo~d wa~ ~ are carried by R.A.M.C. (Ro~l ~y Medical Corps) st~tc~rbea~rs, who wear a Red Cross on t~Ir sleeves a~ who belo~ to t~ field ~bu~nce, to t~ adv~ced ~eaai~ station (A.D.~.) which is ~ by the f~id ~bula~e. T~re ~ is exiled, d~ssed again if necessa~, given his prophylactic hypode~ic injection of w~t’s called A.T.~. (anti-tetanus se~ this p~venta lockJ~r ~~.. T~n by motor ~bul~ee ~ g~s to t~ ~in dressing station of t~ field a~ula~e. ~om t~re ~ quickly g~s to a C.C.S. (Cavalry Clearin~ ~tation) which is u~ally situated fr~ five-eight miles behind t~ li~, dependi~ on t~ sector. This is a large hospital wh~h is organized so as to t~e care of t~ acutely wo~ed oases and send the others down to base hospitals. So it is at t~ae C.O.d. hospitals ~t most of the ~~ent s~gery is do~ ~ch as cases with bullets in t~ abd~n or ~ad. T~ are both ~le and female n~ses ~ and at ~ ~se hospitals. From t~se places t~ wo~ded go various ways dependin~ on the wounds. Those only sl~htly wo~ded ~y be sent back to t~ f~nt. Those m~e~ately wo~ed are usu~ly sent back to t~ base hospitals which are large, stationa~ places which can hold 1,000 cases or mo~. Those severely wo~ded ~y ~ kept for a few days ~til t~y’re fit to travel. Cases ~e moved from the C.C.S. to t~ base in sple~i~y equipped hospital trai~,-movi~ palaces of l~ies, fitted for both walki~ and lyi~ cases, and each t~aln bei~ card for by about two doctors, six n~aes a~ about forty ~dical orderlies. At the ~se hospitals, o~rations a~ perfor~d as ~oesaa~ ~d wo~ds are again ~ssed. Here men are selected who are to go to ’Blighty,’ the To~y’s

Love, War, and Yedlelne


nickname for home - in this ease England, Scotland, Wales or Northern Ireland. To make a Tommy happy, Just tell him he’s goi~ to Bli~hty. The most severely wounded will smile at that. They cross the Er~lish Channel in fine hospital ships and are sent to various hospitals. Usually, they are sent to special hospitals, for example, the nerve eases go to one place, the abdominal to another, etc., though this is not always true. Besides these regular channels, cases may be sidetracked either at some base in France or in England to what is known as a convalescent camp where the patient is given the rest he requires before reJoinin8 his unit. Add to this that there are various special hospitals all over France - for skin diseases, eye injuries, ear eases, etc., and you now should have a pretty fai~ idea of the British system of carin~ for their sick and w ounde d. As you can see from this, I’m at the beginning of the ladder. I’m one of the doctors who selects the eases that he thinks fit for hospital. I’m one of those who gives the first aid treatment. For example last night a very interestin~ patient came in,- a man had a bullet wound throush one wrist between the two bones - luckily the bullet missed the bones, but it nleked one of the arteries and he lost a good deal of blood, I packed the wound and stopped the bleeding, then sent him along in the motor ambulance. He’ll be O.K. Yes, I did receive the strings and picks you sent me for m~ mandolin and I thank you. No other news except I’m well and happy and still at the same place well back of the line where I was when I wrote home three days ago. I’ve had a resular bed for the last three nights and have slept like a top each nlght. This sector is very quiet and peaceful and shellln~ is very slight. All in all, I’m havi~ a good time. Have been readir~ ’Life of Lord Kitche~er. ’ Am going to play some auction bridge now with a padre and two doetors, so will close with loads of love to all of yo~. Your loving brother, Lee We dnes day, May I Another busy day.

Boche kept shelling all around killed, another Tommy was

One of ou~ batmen was

Love, War, and M~dtcLne


wounded through the cheek and throat; Lieutenant Crosby, here with me, sewed hlm up nlcely. Met two United States captains who said that many American troops were near us,-that ’ s great news.

Thursday, May 2 Less shelltr~ today; four Tommtes were happy in that each ~ecelved wounds which almost suavely will entitle them to be sent to a hospital in England (in other words, a ’Blighty’ wound).
Letter Thursday, May 2 Dearest girl, Was fairly busy yesterday and didn’t get a chance to write to you all day. I have had a busy morning today. At present it’s 4:30 P.M. of a fine, sunny, warm afternoon. Except for intermittent artillery fire which goes on every day, rain or shine, it’s very quiet. You get so you hardly notice this irregular daily stunt of the guns. Personally, I can almost sleep in the midst of a perfect roar of shells, but let one little mouse crawl near me and I’m wide awake. Lieutenant Mosby, a Kentuckian doctor here with me at this dressir~ station, is struggling along with ye old-time game of solitaire. I look up from this letter every once in a while to see how he’s getting along, but I don’t think he’ll succeed in winning this game. No mail has come in for last three days, but tonight I expect that a batch of it will arrive. I’m fairly sure there will be at least one letter from you as several are missir~. Am still in the same place having a comfortable time of it. I get my good eight-nine hours sleep each night, though it is often broken by patients coming in or inquiries as to ambulances, etc. You see, this station is a sort of collecting post for the sick ar~ wounded of the battalions near here. We have motor ambulances here which take these cases

Love, War, and Medicine


down to th~ next station and from there to the Casualty Cle arin~ Stations. X wonder if you know what a ’Blighty’ is. Well, it is Tommy’s desire - a nice little wound Just serious enou~ to ge~ him home, o~ as ~ calls i~, ’Bligh~y.’ A bulle~ ~ou~ ~ ~scles of ~ a~ o~ leg which d~s no o~r dama~ is a favorite o~,- many a man would li~ one of them. But, unfor~nately, you cannot ehoose y~ wound. Bullet wounds are the best unless t~y hit vital spots. S~apnel w~nds ape often sl~ht. S~ll wo~ds a~e t~ ~stiest as they are often large a~ beco~ badly infected. Yesterday we ~d a case which demanded i~ediate attention ~re even tho~h we’re not ~pposed to ate this far up t~ line. A aergeant-~Jor of a trench mortar batte~ was hit by a bit of s~ap~l in the e~ek. ~e ~tal went t~o~ his cheek a~ into t~ back of his t~oat. T~ man wa~ed in thou~ bleedi~ badly, t~n collapsed from loss of blood. ~e ~id him on a stitcher, opened and c lea~d out his mouth ~d fo~ t~t the ~tal ~d cut ~ arte~ which was bleeding freely. T~re was no alternative but to stitch this vessel up; the m~ came to and pluckily o~ned his mouth and let us put in fo~ stitc~s in his throat and c~ek. T~ bleedi~ was stopped and when ~ ~ft, ~ was in fairly go~ shape and I thi~ ~ will recover all ri~t. Those are rare cases as the use of a needle ~d thread by a battalion doctor is not often dem~ded. His ~tion is to dress t~ case as comfortably as possible and get him away as quickly as he can. H~ aid post ~ould always ~ free as possible fo~ the ~xt case for you ~ver know w~n a new lot ~y co~ in. ~o ~erican E~ineer officers visited here yesterday. T~y we~ bei~ inst~cted into the mysteries of gas by t~ divisional gas officer. T~y left New Yo~ In Feb~ary. ~y gave ~ a good deal of first,hal inrotation about t~ war doits there, includi~ lightless and workless days. Incidentally, t~y ca~ from Ed’s regi~nt and I learned that it is ~ric~ sector s~th of Paris. So Ed and I are a io~ way fr~ each other. Don’t expect to ~et him for a Io~ while, but you ~ver c~ tell. I’ll do my best to see him. ~arest gi~l, I do hope you are O.K. for you kn~ I want you a~ want you in t~ ve~ ~st ~alth,t~t’s why I don’t want you to lose sleep by writi~ me after midnight. Rater than ~ve you worn out fr~ lack of rest, I would rather receive less letters from y~ tho~h you know, dear, how I love and app~ciate

Love, War, and Medicine


each one of those messages of love. I’d rather hear fro~ you than do anything. Still, please don’t sit up too late. Sweetheart, won’t you lean over and give me one of those io~, tender kisses of which I’m goi~ to exact a large number fro~ you in the future. And please throw in a hug or two - yes, across the pond. I’m head over heels in love with you, in fact, I can think of nobody else I want to talk to, nor to write to anyone but you. I’d give anything for even an hour with you that would be heaven. What Joy awaits you and ho~ey, when we finally ~eet and meet to stay, never to be separated. and Ia~ You are all mine, Nina,

All yours, ~ee
11:30 P.M. Dearest, Just a few more words before I go to sleep. The ~ail ca~e in, but there wasn’t even a newspaper for me. I surely am disappointed. However better luck Dext time. Have had a quiet day and now it’s time for sleep. I do wish I could say good night to you in the proper way, but at this distance, all I can do is to repeat that you are more mine than ever and that I love you dearly. I’m Just longing to take you in ~y al~s add kiss you again and again. How would you like to fall asleep in my arms, honey, and to wake up with my arms still holding you tightly and with your cheek against mine ? ’Bonne nuit,’ mY darling, many, ma~y kisses and a heart full of devotion to the dearest little maiden in this w~ld - I love her only. Her own till death, Lee Saturday, May 4 Officially notified from General Pershing recom~endlng me f~ captaincy in the United States Medical Reserve Corps - so was sure l’d receive the official document soon. Terrific "strafing" nearby all night - wondered what that ~eant. Also learned that we go back in the front llne tomorrow night. Just one year ago while I was in Chicago,

Love, ~ar, and Medicine


I ~eceived my commission as 1st Lieutenant in the United States Medical Reserve Corps. Friday, May 3rd Dear Polka, Still in the same old place that I’ve been in for over a week no~ - that’s a long time for me to stay in any one place. Am getting plenty of slee~, good food, and a fair amount of work. At present, we’re running, besides my aid post, a sort of collecting post for wounded and sick of several battalions near here. So I see more cases than usual - a few sick and a few wounded every day. I have been notified by General Headquarters, A.E.F., that by command of General Pershing I have been recommended for a captaincy in the Medical Reserve Corps. The recommendation has been sent to Washington by cable. So I’m practically sure of promotion, though I’m still a lieutenant and will be till I get my new commission. That will probably take a month or two yet. However, I can wait. No other news so good night and lots of love to all. Lee Letter #58 Friday, May 3 rd My own sweetheart, There isn’t any news today, so if you’re looking for anything exciting, you’ll be disappointed. I’ve sort of fallen into a routine existence of work, sleep and eat, plus writing and readi~; am having a very peacefUl time. The sun is out and we were sitting outside of our dugout this morning reading, but the glare was too strong and we came back inside. So you can see we’re having a spell of fine weather. The other American here received a load of newspapers and magazines yesterday and I’ve been helping him wade through the stuff. He’s ~ot Louisville, St. Louis and Chicago papers and Colliers and Saturday Evening Posts and McClure’s and two medical

J ourr Is.
A motor ambulance is Just leaving and is taking away mail, so I’ll close now and writ~ again tonight, if possible.

Love, War, and Medicine


But I can’t finish this without sending you a heart full of love and kisses and hugs - I wish I could give them to you personally, and I will, ’apres la guerre’ yes and with daily compounded interest, too. l’m madly in love with the finest girl a-going and I,m sure she’s devoted to me. Lee Letter ~i’Sp Friday, May 3rd, 11:30 P.M. My dearest glrl, I wrote you a short note this afternoon and tonight will add a few lines before going to bed. The mail came in tonight, but it brought nothing at all from either you, Stella, or my folks. There came a letter from a cousin of mine and another from ~aJor Lewis, my former commanding officer who was wounded in the leg while walking a few yards from me on that eventful day of 1{arch 23rd. The major is fine and dandy, he writes, and I’m glad to hear it as he’s a prince of a chap. He’s in a comfy hospital in London. The mail also brou6ht me good tidings which I know you will enjoy as much as I. It was a communication from the Adjutant General A.E.F. saying, ’You have been recommended by cable for promotion to rank of captain in the ]~edical’s Reserve Corps by order of General Pershing.’ That makes me practically sure of the advancement, tho~h it may be a month or two before I’m officially promoted. The day has been fairly quiet with only slight shelling and practically no casualties. Reading and writing have been my long suits today. Of course, eating has consumed a great deal of time, as per usual. Have Just mailed Cox & Co. (Boulogne), my bankers, an order to send a draft for $500 to my brother Joe he takes care of my funds for me. That makes $1,250 sent home altogether. Some of that went for insurance, and $25. a month goes to my mother. I have a balance of about $800-$900 altogether, not counting about $200 I have coming for last month’s pay and allowances and about $i00 I have with me or in my balance at Cox’s. From this you can see that things are looking up for us. And when I get my captaincy, my pay will go up from $2,200 a year to$2,6~0; and my allowances will also be slightly increased. That allowance coms s from the B.E.F. and will be raised from 126 to 148 francs a month (from about $22 to $26 a month). That’s not bad.

Love, War, and Medicine


Visions of our future dollhouse are therefore becomir~ more vivid. I am beginning to see daylight. I am also beginning to picture you and me in our cozy little home - a real home it will be. You and I, dearest - that’s enough. What wonderful Joy we will have. I can Just picture us in ~the reading room l You will be seated on my lap; I will be holding you with one arm; with the other hand I will hold a book and I’II be reading somethlr~ or other to you. You’ll be listening sort of dreamily and will be running your fingers through my hair. Every little while you’ll lean over and kiss my eyelids very gently and I’Ii have to stop reading. Then I’Ii grasp you tightly and pull your head down so that your lips meet mine. And, oh, girl, what wonderful kisses you will give me. They will come from your heart and my answer will come from mine. Qood night, darling, I love you very, very much, for I am Yours forever, Lee Letter ~0 Saturday, May ~th My dearest Nina, It is a beautiful day and the sun is strong. It’s fairly warm, too, and I could easily dispense with my coat, but I won’t for a while yet. It’s about 5:30 P.M. Tea has come and gone. Nothing to do at present. Have ~ad no wounded today, but have sent three trench fever patients to the hospital. One was a lance-corporal of British artillery, but he came from Pennsylvania. There are a good number of Americans in the British Army, especially in the Canadian branch and most are anxious to be transferred to the A.E.F., but they don’t think that will be permitted. The boys have been kidding me all day about the message which came last night telling me that I was recommended for a captaincy by order of General Pershing. They claim there’ll be no holding me now - and I can’t answer back. Won’t you come here and defend your ’hubby?’ We’re a happy family he re and we have lots of fun. I shall be sorry when we have to break up. But that’s the way in the army--you never stay long in one place. Of course, there are exceptions to the rule, for example, AI Barnett has been almost a year in one l~catlon while l’ve moved so many times l’ve lost count. I guess I can beat even some of the flat dwellers at home who are never satisfied and move whenever they can.

Love, W&r, and ~edic Ine


Later - midnight Was interrupted by a few sick patients. After that we had dinner and then played three handed brid~e - I won one-half franc - what shall I do with it all? We play two-three times a week, always for one franc a hundred and no one ever wins or loses more than a few franc s ¯ A lot of mail came in tonight, including your nice card of April 3rd and the World’s Work, Every Week, and Sunday pictures, for all of which many thanks. In addition, I received two letters from my father, one from Joe from Baltimore, one from ~arie’s hubby, one from an aunt and a nice letter from AI Barnett. All my folks are well. ~y father says, ’Nina is some good glrl’ that’s my sentiments, too. Joe was having a fine time on his trip and doing well, too. He says you received some stunning birthday presents, but I’ll bet you didn’t sho~ him all. A1 wrote a three-page letter - that’s long for a letter by him to me. We usually write each other very briefly as we merely tell news. He received Stella’s letter and, like me, is very apprehensive about her mother. He told me about those service chevrons, V - shaped gold stripes worn point down one inch above the sleeve braid on the left arm; one for each six months in France. I’m entitled to one, he almost to two. Your card, dearest, was welcome, even though delayed about ten days. You remember you wrote it as an apology for writing me what you called a ’blue’ letter the night before, ’blue’ because my letters to you were delayed. But, darling girl, it takes all sorts of moods to make life, and an attack of ’blues’ once in a while is good for ua for it makes us appreciate happiness all the more by contrast. It would be a poor world if we were always content. I would much rather have you write me Just what you feel rather than camouflage your emotions for I want to know you Just as you are. I am learning all about you from your letters, for previously I knew very little about you. I, too, have a big vacuum way down in my heart. I, too, have an intense longing for you and never more t~an now at this ’witching’ hour when all good children should be asleep. ~ay ~cKeon calls you a ’lovesick kitten,’ but she is wrong - I object. Love is not a sickness, it’s an asset, a beneficent miracle that comes to only a few,--I mean such true love as between you and me. And of course you’re not a kitten - for you are the dearest, sweetest, purest and loveliest little girl there is: And one of the bravest, too, for you bid me ’carry on,’ though I know how you worry about me and wish me back safe and

Love, War, and Medicine


sound. I admire you for that trait,- it is that which is so splendid in American girls and which is encouraging our boys in this great struggle. Yes, darling, you may now come to me (no chaperon) and Just hu6 me and love me. @irl, to have you caress me and fondle me would be delightful and would make me very happy indeed. But I insist on doing some of the hugging and lovln~ too. I won’t let you do it all. May I do n~y share? Honey, before I close this and crawl into bed, won’t you please let me picture you as I often do? Let’s say you too are getting ready to retire as it’s close to midnight. You have Just finished writing to me and have sealed and stamped the envelope. You go to your room. You are dressed in a negligee with that lovely kimono and slippers on your feet. Slowly you remove the hairpins and let your wonderful hair fall into its natural position. In a few minutes you are in a pure white nightgown - or is it a suit of blue pajamas? At any rate you look lovingly at a certain photo and kiss the picture in lieu of the original. Then you crawl into the clean sheets and darken the room. Then you start thinking. You wonder what Lee is doing. Where is he at this minute? Is he thinking of you at the same time you’re thinking of him? Is he in the llne? Is he in danger? But you have prayed for him and are assured God is looking after him. And then

you ask, for the 100th time, does he love me? And in the stillness of the night, the answer comes ’he does, he does.’ Your face lights up with relief, your arms try to clasp him close to you, a great peace comes over you and the magic God of sleep masters you. And you

sleep happily

for you


you have won

Lee’s heart. P.S. April pay check came in $176.63 - will you share It, dear? It’ll buy the baby shoes. Sunday, May 5th Slept till I0:00 A.M. ; it was my last sleep in a real bed for some time to come. Our happy little family was broken up. Lieutenant Mosby had severe ringworm and was sent back to his Field Ambulance. At 8:00 P.M. that night my medical crew, my barman and I walked up the railroad tracks and soon we were at ye old WieltJe’s Dugout in

the t~enches. We found that ou~ old tin Nissen Hut had been blown to pieces during ou~ absence (see how lucky we were). I became attached to the Headquarters of Company Uonday, Nay 6th Wrote to the Bureau of War Risk Insurance in Washington, D. C. to change the beneficiary of my United States policy so that my mother and Nina K would benefit equally. Am back in the depth of this damp, rat-infested dugout. The air is so foul I’have developed a headache. The Boche a~e close to us. They snipe at us all day lor~ and we dare not go out of our dngout except when it is dark. Sunday, Nay 5th Dear Folks, I’m very glad you’re all O.K. I can imagine that from what Pa a~d Joe wrote, the Passover Seder was not altogether the happiest of affairs - little wonder. But I’m glad you had a full table. Am expecting a letter from Ed any time now and as soon as it comes, I’ll mail him all those letters I received. As far as finances go, don’t send him any mo~ey - I have plenty and will keep him supplied. In my last letter I mailed him a check for 100 francs (about $19) - that should keep him going a long time for his expenses are not much. Yesterday was one year since I received my commission and tomorrow will be eleven months since I was ordered on active duty. Time flies, doesn’t it? A1 Barnett is still at the Base Hospital 18, B.E.F. He writes he doesn’t think he’ll be promoted- that’s too bad as he’s been out a year now and lots of doctors in the United States are being promoted after only a few weeks in the service. Age is the big thing you have to be thirty-one to be promoted out here unless for very distinguished conduct. The reason I’m getting my boost is that my commandin~ officer wrote a swell recommendation full of a lot of hot air about gallantry

Love ¯ War, and Med~i~


in the battle of Cambrai, but it sounded good and was e ffect lye. No more news today. Lots of love to all. Write often. Affectionately, Lee Very peaoeful today as usual. Letter #61 Monday, May 6th My dearest Nina, I wonder what you are doing now. It’s noon here, therefore about 6:00 A.M. where you are. I wonder if you’re sleepin~ peacefully - I suppose you are. I wonder if you’re dreaming at this moment, and I wonder what you’re dreaming about. Perhaps you’re dreaming of our little dollhouse with its few, small, simple rooms, small but characterized by an atmosphere of home and love and friendship in the truest sense of the words. Perhaps in your subconscious state you feel yourself in my arms. One of my arms is about your neck, the other is around your waist and I am holding you very tightly. Can’t you feel my heart beatin~ against yours? Can’t you tell by the fervor of my kisses how desperately I love you? Don’t you feel me near you with my protecting arms about you? A happy smile has come over your lovely face, you hold out your arms and draw me even closer, your lids quiver a little and then open. Alas, you say, it was only a dream. Lee is far away. But down deep in your heart you know that Lee is with you, in spirit, at all times,-~--day and by night. He is watching over you most tenderly and devotedly. He is yours completely. And you close your eyes again with a happy

I wonder if my picture of you is even fairly accurate. I often try to imagine Just what you’re doing at the time and how you look. Won’t it be great when we won’t have to imagine any more¯ when we will have each other and have each other forever ’till death do us part.’ I’ve Just finished reading your letter #47 over again. It is the one in which you accepted me, you remember. It is the most wonderful letter you have written, and it shows me into hitherto unperceived depths of your character. I am delighted with my study of what that letter reveals. Your willingness to give up all your present ties for me shows me your love for me is of the firmest

Love, War, and Medicine


and once more demonstrates your complete unselfishness. To give up comfort, mother, brothers, sister and friends and your home and other things for the sake of any man is a great sacrifice. But when you add to it that this man is poor, the sacrifice becomes prodigious. Your readiness to give all this up for me, honey, is the greatest compliment I ever received, and I can’t tell you how much I really appreciate your reply. It has made me the happiest of boys (somehow I still feel I’m a boy). One sentence in your letter stands out. I quote it~ ’I am very fond of my mother; she is a real mother and I hope that if God blesses us with a child that I will be as worthy of the title ’mother’ as she is.’ A few words, but what do they not reveal to me? They tell me in clear language how you love and honor your parent and no praise of mine is too high for that sort of spirit. In these days there are too many who neglect their parents. It shows me how great your sacrifice when you must part from her. Besides that, de arest, ~t pro-ayes .~t~ m~ that you are not one of those fashionable women who" spend their lives at clubs, etc., but who shrink from the real meanin~ of the word ’home.’ No, Nina, youlare willing to suffer pain and discomfort in order to prove that you can be as good a mother as your own mother is to you. And that willingness does you honor. God grant that your wish (it is mine, also) comes true. One other characteristic of yours is also revealed in that vivid sentence. It reveals to me that you are open and frank with me. No prude would ever write a sentence like that. It only shows me again that between you and me no secrets or false modesties should exist or do exist. You and I both call an ace an ace and a spade a spade. You and I, by your own words, are bound to each other as though the knot was already tied. Why should we two be held down in our mutual confidences by conventionalities? That is why I am so pleased because of your frankness to me. Let us agree, Nina, to keep up this spirit. We are the best of chums and pals and I, on my part, will write you all of my personal happenings, etc. And I hope you, too, will let me into the innermost corners of your thoughts as you have in the past. Agreed? I have left my palatial dugout and once more am in the deep dugout I was in a couple of weeks ago. I’m writing this in the messroom forty feet below the ground. No daylight down here and you dare not leave the place in daylight as you are exposed to the Boche. I sleep in a little room close by, and my aid post is

Love, War, and Medicine


at the other end of a long, very damp passage. This is the ’ratty’ dugout I wrote you about, but I’ve changed my sleeping place and last night was not disturbed by those little animals. The place is lighted throughout by electricity. Have little to do here as it’s very peaceful. I was very sorry to leave our happy family at the other place I Just left. However, as the French say, ’c’est la guerre.’ Sweetheart, now that we have come to know each other so well, I Just wrote to the government to have a slight alteration in my government policy. I would like to feel that you are protected in all cases. I have a $10,000 policy here and have directed that you and my mother shall share equally as beneficiaries. As I have a $5,000 policy in Mutual Life Insurance Company of New York with my mother as sole beneficiary, you can readily see that she is amply provided for. Later on I will change that one, too. Is that all right, dear? That’s all for today, my glrl, except to assure you once more, as I have over and over again, that life without you would be incomplete. You are to be my companion, my pal, my sweetheart and my dear little wife all in one - don’t you realize what a big Job you have undertaken? Many, many kisses and real honest-togoodness hugs.

Yours forever,


Tuesday, May 7th Nina dear, This should be a separate letter but through an error the mall was not collected last night, so I’ll Just continue on. But mail did come in, and,i oh, i glrl, it brought me your three--~’~vely letters #~8, ~9 and 50. Besides, I received a card from Ed (he’s at Base Hospital 27 I don’t know what he’s doing there, but from what he writes, he seems to be attached there although his address is still ll6th Engineers); also a letter from my brother Paul and one from my old friend, Sam Solomon. Ed asked about you and Stella - did I hear from you two? I said yes - often - and told him, in confidence, that you and I were engaged and would be married when the war is over. That will stun him a bit, don’t you think? I’m very glad to hear that you influenced him to return the letters of that former glrl of his - she was merely playing with him all the time.

Love, War, and Medicine


Your letters, dear girl, are splendid and I love every one. I’m saving and treasuring them so that some day you az~ I will spend many delightful hours reading them again - this time while clasped in each other’s arms. Even the thought of that sends a thrill of happine s s through me. Yes, you may be my nurse for life and I shall pay you liberally in the coinage of love. But I’m a very healthy patient - your chief duty therefore will be to entertain your patient. And I’ll bet you’ll do that all right, won’t you, honey? Twenty-four hours, seven days a week - those are your hours. Thank you, Nina, for giving me permission to take down your lovely hair and to run my fingers gently through its coils. I’m glad it has a soothing effec.t. May I soothe you often? I’d love to: I ~uess when it comes to story-writing~ I’m a pretty fair whist player - at any rate, I’ve never heard a word more about that story I wrote for the New York Herald. I suppose it was N.G. (that does not stand for National Guard). I have a copy of it and shall keep it till I return, then you may read it, dear. I am glad Ed writes you and wants you to answer him. I don’t think it’s worth-while to number your letters to him. Just tell him frankly you and I are engaged, but you’d llke to hear from him Just the same and will answer whenever you get the chance, but he mustn’t expect them too often as I keep you pretty busy. Ask him if he likes you for a sister-in-law better than as a cousin. I see you are a good patriot buying $I00 Liberty Bond. Keep it up. I Just sent $500 home with instructions to Joe, my banker, to invest it in Liberty Bonds or War Savings Certificates. In Letter #50, written at night, you beg me to come and give you a good night kiss. You would pretend to be sick and I could come into your room after you went to bed and be your doctor. Dearest girl, how I should like that. I would kiss you again and again and Just hold you tightly - that would be my medicine for you. But, dear, how could I leave you then? I know I wouldn’t want to. You’d Just have to order me out, I guess. I’ll wait till you did. How soon would you tell me I’d have to go? Of course, as soon as you told me to go, out I would go for I wouldn’t offend you for anything. But won’t I be happy when the time comes when I won’t have to go at all? How will you like that, honey? Dearest, that’s all for today. You can rest assured I have pledged myself to you only and that I’ll

Love, War, and Medicine


be true to you as can be. For I love you with all my heart and soul. Yours till eternity, Lee

Tue sday, May 7th

Still down in same deep dugout. I can go out only
at night as the Boche are close and very observant. Wrote a letter to the Surgeon General of the American Expeditionary Force (A.E.F.) and asked for a transfer from the British Expeditionary Force (B.E.F.) to the A.E.F. Sorry to say one of our Tommles was killed; another, from the Royal Engineers, was wounded in both ankles. I applied Thomas Splints. I learned to apply these splints some time ago when I took a course in sanitation in the city of P~ronne, France.
Wednesday, May 8th Read in bed till 2:00 A.M., then slept till 1:30 Then some bridge again with Officers McClelland,

Williamson and Hewitt.
day and six of t o our dugout. a favorite Boche Letter #62

The Boche shelled us beavily all

their big shells landed near the entrance I must add that our latrine was smashed, target.

Wednesday, May 8th Dearest Nina, Yesterday was another Joyous letter day for it brought me another batch of mail. The nicest letter was one from my own sweetheart (letter #51). Besides that, there were two from my dad, one from my brother

Love, War, and Medicine


Paul, one from Sam Solomon, one from Will H. and one from Berenice Ladewick. We’ll discuss these letters in turn, though I’ll leave yours to the last - as a sort of de ssert. There wasn’t much news from home. All are well. They missed Ed and me especially at the Passover Seder dinner. They received the $400 draft I sent them last February, also an ash tray I sent dad from P~ronne and little Eugene received the souvenir spoon I sent him from the same city. Joe has done well on the road, they tell me. Paul plays in the orchestra at Hyde Park High School and is a swimmer de luxe - he can skin me to pieces, though that’s not saying much for him. That’s all the news from home. Sam Solomon, my old chum, wrote me a peach of a letter. I will keep it to show you at some future date, but will quote a few lines from the nineteen page message. No, on second thought, I’ll enclose the whole letter for you to read and preserve for me for I consider it a masterpiece. I’ii put in pencil a few notes so you can understand better. Please let me know what you think. Sam used to play second base and I used to pitch for the Colonial Athletic Club in Washington Park and we surely did have good times there. He calls me his ’Little Boy Blue.’ And, dearest, as I have no secrets from you, I’Ii also enclose Berenice Ladewick’s letter. I might repeat what I wrote you concerning her last week, namely, that she and I could never be more than Just friends, though I didn’t explain why and that I’d prefer that she send me no more parcels. And, lastly and the best, your letter dated April 14th. It contained good news about Mrs. Kraus and I’m sincerely glad to hear she’s able to sit up and move her hands O.K. Yes, dear, I will stop in at Stella’s and accept your kind invitation to try some of your cake and pudding. That’s the stuff to give ’era. I see you’re practicing up. That’s right, too. I’m not afraid, though, to trust my stomach to what you make for I believe you’re O.K. at cooking,- besides, my stomach is cast iron. But, darling, I’m not going to marry you for your housekeeping abilities - I’m marrying you because you’re you. I do wish I had you here so I could kiss you and hug you to my heart’s content - and my heart’s content would demand a great deal from you. You’re in for it, I warn you. Here’s a long devoted kiss and a real hug. With

Love, War, and Medicine


them go all my love. Your sweetheart,

No news - still in the same dugout.
Friday, May lOth

In ou~ dugout at ’WieltJe’ till 9:30 P.M., then we were relieved.
the Canal Bank, We marched back by the railroad tracks to then down the road to Brielen. My new aid

post was on the side of a road in a strong low dugout; our Headquarters was in a chateau about fifteen minutes away from the dugout.
Saturday, May llth Was awakened at 8:00 A.M. by the arrival of six wounded, fortunately all were ’Blighties,’ none too severe. In this low dugout I had to dress the wounds while leaning forward. Later a walk to Headquarters located in a gorgeous chateau which once belonged to a German nobleman. This building was adorned by a small lake and a flower house with tulips outdoors and all sorts of artistic obJects. That visit was also noteworthy because I found a dandy shower bath, and also read a famous French magazine called ’L’Illustration’ of 1898. Friday, May lOth My dearest wife-to-be, Won’t you please come over here and sit on my lap? I want you so badly. I want to put one arm around your neck and another around your waist and

Love, War, and Medicine


I want to hold you very tightly to me. And, girl of mine, I do so want to kiss you again and again. May I? May I clasp you to me so that I can feel the beat of your heart against mine? May I fondle and caress you to my heart’s content? Dearest, l’m head over heels in love with you. l’m absolutely lost. I can think of no one but you and my last thoughts at night are of my pure, sweet darling 3,000 miles away. And when I wake in the mornings, my first thoughts are of you, and I wonder whether you are dreaming and thinking of me as I am of you. I am happy in the knowledge that I have gained such a precious gem as you. I am happy in the knowledge that some day you will honor me by receiving my name and coming to llve with me under one common roof. I am happy because I know how true you are and how Joyous our future life will be. I am only sad because we are separated, but that separation will make us love one another all the more when finally we do meet, never again to be separated. Your #52 letter reached me last night and made me very happy for it is full of words of love and faith and devotion and I love every word you write. Yes, dearest, as you say, the road ahead of us it not smooth. We have many obstacles to overcome. It will be years before we do. But with your loyal love and encouragement, I am confident we will climb upwards and upwards. When I think it over, what a fool a man is to marry a doll-faced woman who has no more brains than a doll. She is all right at first, but the man, if he is at all intelligent himself, must soon tire of her for he and she can have no common interests. Conversation becomes boresome in such an ill-mated couple. No such thing will ever happen with us, I know, for you are not only one of the loveliest and purest of girls, but you have intelligence. There is nothing doll-like about your brains at all. You are wideawake and take a keen Interest in the world’s activities. Dresses and clubs don’t consume your time. When I realize what a perfect sweetheart you are, I am astounded by the good fortune which has come to me. I can only hope, honey, to return good for good and to be Just as good a husband as I can be. That I’Ii be faithful to you is assured. The days go on and on. May, too, is creeping away. It will soon be June and with it the end of a year in the service and a year since you and I met after a ten years’ interval. How those two days in New York now seem to me. I recall how I appreciated your kindness to me and how much at

Love, War, and Medicine


home I felt as soon as I reached youm apartment. I recall how truly cousinly we acted with no sentiment at all other than cousinly. To have taken you in my arms at that time never entered my head, and I’m sure you’d have resented it if I had tried to. How times have changed: It has gradually come to me - this love that is true and pure and wholehearted. And, now, when I meet you, there’ll be nothing cousinly about my greetings at all, no matter where we are and who are present. Thousands may look on, but, nevertheless, I’m Just going to hold you to me and taste many times of the sweets of your lips. And after that, dear, there’ll be a little ceremony ’somewhere in the United States’ and after that two persons will have been merged into one and will hand in hand start llfe anew, and will hand in hand climb onwards and upwards. One of those two will be the dearest girl in the world and the other will be Her wildly-happy Lee A load of hugs and kisses. Still in the same dugout and still very quiet and peaceful. Letter #64 Saturday, May llth Desme st girl, What a contrast between now and the time of my last letter. Then I was sitting in a deep dugout forty feet below the earth’s level. The air was damp and stale. Sunlight was never seen. Now l’m sitting on a chair on the side of a road miles behind the line. The sunlight shines in my face. The air is pure and abundant and I breath~ it deeply and unrestrainedly. Fresh air is priceless. My steel helmet and gas mask are discsmded for the time being. On my head is perched my new dainty little United States chapeau - built on the lines of an airman’s cap without a peak. And how different I feel now. To be cooped up is irksome to me and today I feel as free as a bird - l’d fly if I could. A deep content has seized upon me for it is very peaceful out here though the guns keep up their constant noise. But you get so you don’t notice those at all. My new aid post is in a strong iron and concrete dngout on ground level so that it has plenty of fresh air. I sleep there also. The rest of the staff of the battalion sleep in a chateau about fifteen minutes away. There I go to take my meals. This morning I went over for breakfast and after downing some oatmeal, bacon, eggs, Jam, bread and butter

Love, War, and Medlc ine


and tea, Z looked this chat;eau over. Nina, it’s a narvolous place. I~ is a large three s~orlod home wt~h so~van~s~ q~e~s and s~ab~os ~ a separate but~dt~. ¯ ~o~d ~ho ~ston ~ns a ~t~e ~ko and a~o~d il t l~ll wood. ~e is a level7 ~stio b~idge ove~ ~ ~ke and f~om o~ pa~ of ~ sho~ a divi~ boa~d p~oJee~s (bu~ ~ho water’s a bi~ cold ~e~). Yhi8 plaee was onee a h~ of a dis~inguis~d Ge~an noble~n and befo~ ~ wa~ i~ mus~ ~vo been one of ~ world’s lovel~ spots. Even now ik is p~e~, ~ho~h ~ building ~s several s~ll holes in i~, ~ain le~s ~ ~oof a~ solders a~e sprawled all ove~ t~ g~o~s. 3~ of k~ ~ee8 ~ve fallen and s~ll holes do~ land. T~e a~e n~ous books ~ft in the spacious ~o~s, ehiefl~ ~igian and F~noh with a few English a~ ~n. And a fi~ aa~ble s~atue g~eets ~ou as ~ou en~eP t~ h~--~oo bad k~k it’s been chipped a bi~. ~d insiae a~ hea~ glass s~des of all deso~ipkions useless now. To eomple~e t~ pict~e t~re is a fi~ fl~e~ house in t~ garden - Just as pou knew aus~ be. How sad ~ha~ this onet~e ~gnificen% ~s been spoiled b~ wa~"s g~ss. ¯igh~ ~fo~e las~ I recei~d a da~y io~ fPoa Ed. He ~o~e ~ was attac~d, ~ tho~ht ~nen~l~, ~o Base Hospi~al 27, as a ~aPd, thou~ his enginee~ ad~ss is still ~he collect one. He ~i~es of ~egu~ ~als, of fi~ barracks, of aeries ~wiee a week, of wa~s to town, of Y.M.C.A. activities ~d ~eading ~ooas, ere. ; also of baseball fields a~ a~ of new ~ennis ~o~ts. In fact, ~ qui~e fills with en~. BaP~aeks, aeries, Y.M.C.A.s, wa~s to ~n, baseball, kepis, - all t~se a~e foreign ~o ~ p~esen~. A wa~ is abou~ t~ onl~ exe~oise o~ ean se~ a~ ~eu ~an’k even ~e~ t~t w~n up in the li~. I ~hi~ I’ll pl~ge into t~ lake toda~ if I ~ve enoch ~a~e - ~ water’s ice-cold - a swia would do ae good. ~on’t ~ou Join ~e? You’ll have to always give ae a ~ndi~ap w~n we go swiping, dea~, as i~ woul~’k ~ fai~ fo~ ~ou to beat ~o~ hubb~ too badl~. Please be ~ci~l to me, or I’ll ge~ ~ kid bPot~ Paul af~e~ ~ou. I wonde~ if ~ can beat you ~’s won a couple of ~dals. H~ man~ ~ve ~ou won? ~e ~ t~ cutest little gray kitten ~re -he’s about six inches io~ a~ is so s~all we ~ve lo~s of tPouble avoidi~ s~epping on him - we found him ~d ~ ad~ed him. ~a~st, on this peaceful dap, won’t you please e~ ove~ and si~ ~side me b~ t~ side of the ~oad? 0~ better ~et, even %hou~ public, won’t ~ou s~ c~i~ with ~? It’s a s~ll o~ bu~ I’m suPe it will be large enoch fop both of us.

Love, War, and Medicine

Girl, I do miss you and long for you. This separation is already a long one and seems sure of being a good bit longer. And my love has grown so steadily and rapidly that it is now at its height; I’m sure I’ll be wanting to shout it out as ti~e goes on. What can I do, ho~ey? Itm Just madly devoted to you and would do anything for you - yet here ~ am a long way from you and ~ can do nothing for you. ~ want to hug you and kiss you and fondle you - but that cannot be, as yet. Itm impatient - I can’t help it - T want you and want all of you Just as soon as possible. I’ii never be happy till I have you all for my own. Dearest, will about on~ week after I land be O.K. for the wedding? Will that give you ti~e enough? I don’t want to delay any longer than I have to. Sweetheart, every inch of ~s is devoted to you and my heart is overflowing with the most tender love for my darling glrl. God bless her for I love her fondly. Yours forever, Lee Sunday morning, May 12th Dear Mother, On this sacred day, Mother’s Day, may I not tell you how preelous you are to ~e and how truly I love you? Other boys may think their mothers are the best, but I k~ow that my li~I~-youn~ mother beats them all. It is now over eleven ~ since I left home bound I did not know where. I recall vividly what a splendid send-off you and the others gave me, and how bravely you withstood the ordeal of departure. And sines then another of your boys has been called for duty - and you stood that, too, wonderfully well. And since then, and during all the time of our absence, you have stood the strain magnificently, and I can’t tell you how I admire and I love you for your courage. You are a true American mother - I can pay you no greater compliment than that. Every day since I left, I hsve thought of you and wondered how you were, what you were doing and what you were thinking of. I wondered whether you were in the parlor entertaining company or listening to the Victrola, whether you were at meals serving the good food as in olden days, or whether you were working away at the cooking, the art at which you are second to no one. And l’ve lo~ged ~any a time to be once more at home, once more at the table, once more in the lively conversation, and, above all, once more to see you, father, the two grand~as, Joe, Ed, Paul, Ruth, Gerald, Marie, Joe and little Eugene, now grown

War, and Yedio ine


to be a big boy. Yes, I’ll aSmit lo~i~ to be ho~e ~any ti~s since I lef~ a~ost a year a~o, for ~ ~ mos~ p~asa~t associations and aeao~ies ~o i~. It is all lime a beautiful ~am. Don’~ i~gi~ I’m blu~ o~ ho~sicM o~ disco~a~ed -

fa~ f~om it. l’m ~ppy a~ contented as I believe l’m
doing my s~Pe in t~ noble work o~ co.try is engaged In. I would not wa~ to ~ back In the United States

for worlds,- ~il t~ Job is do~ over ~e a~ do~
~ I ¢~’t ~ip Ion~i~ ~o~ a11 o~ you ~o~ ~h~s sepa~atlon Is ~d ~o~ ~ as well as you. I~m away f~ my loved ones as well as you a~e. Be of good c~Fage, mothe~ dea~, ~d ~ b~ave. ~’m oonfldent the good Lo~d w~11 b~g baok both of boys to you ~touc~d, both bette~ f~ their t~als. ~d I’m positive we~11 w~n t~ wa~. We ~ve the enemy o~okod now~ and every day o~ boys a~ o~ across ~n K~eat n~bo~s. We a~e sure to beat t~ Boca, tho~h It will take a l~ttle t~. Th~, mother, of the happiness t~t w~11 ~ ou~s w~n we a~e all ~eun~ted. And ~emem~r to keep y~Fse~ In the best of ~alth, so t~t you~ boys will love you a11 t~ mo~e w~n t~y co~ back to you. With gFeat a~Fat~on and devot~on, ~ am Yo~ 1ov~ son,

Sunday, May 12th Dea~e at wife, Today is ’Mother’s Day’ and I’ve Just written a letter to my own mother. I’d like to send one also to your mother, our mother-to-be, but I’ll forbear for I’m afraid that would spill the beans. In place of it, though, please give her my love and good wishes, sent to her on this sacred ’Mother’s Day.’ Dearest, when is ’Wife’s Day?’ I want to salute you, my chosen mate. I want to bring you a nice bouquet of violets and to receive your thanks conveyed personally. How will you thank me? Will you Just say ’thank you?’ Or will you - but you tell me how you’ll thank ~e. Many, many thanks for ’Poor Butterfly’ and ’Underneath the Stars’ - they’re fine. The only trouble is that the former is in four flats and well, four flats are four flats, and a bit too much for my amateu~ mandolin performances for I’m still a dub at the instrument. However, I massacred both today, very successfully.

Love, War, and Medicine

It’s twenty-eight days since the date of you~ last letter - that means at least a week’s supply is held up somewhere. I*m J~patient for that batoh. ~ere a~e a~o several older letters missis. Any of mi~ still missis? ~ ~It~ this in t~ e~teau I told you about. ~ weat~r ~a t~ne~ cool and rainy; t~ beauty of yoste~ay Is ~o~. I ~ke sunny days - gloomy ones a~ apt to ~ diaeo~agi~. Recei~d a letter from A1 last ni~ - ~’s fi~ and ~s ~rdly any patients now. He’s ve~ ~saimiatic about his priories and doesn’t th~nk there’s a c~nce on earth for him to get his captaincy. It’s Just beea~e ~’8 ~der thlrty-one. The acthoritles ~ decreed you ~at be thirty-one or older for those doctors over ~,oxoept in exceptional circ~stsnces. T~t’s not a bit fair, for there is no ~rantee t~t a ~p of thirty-five, say, Is bette~ t~n one of twenty-five. It Is often Just t~ reverse. Promotion ou~t to be solely on e~erlenoe and ability--not on ~e. This is Just a wee note, dearie, as I’ve so~ wo~k to do. ~Ith this K~s all ~ love and devotion ~ a l~d of kisses a~ hugs. Eve~ day out ~ brings us nearer to t~ ti~ w~n ~ will be yo~ lovi~, faithf~l, t~sti~, obl~K~ng, and ~voted Hubby, ~e Monday, May 13th Today was inspection day; only four cases of scabies. This afternoon and evening we enjoyed a gramophone and sat with other offleers in front of a fine fireplace and listened to some nice music. With ms were Colonel Dent, a major from a machine gun corps as well as officers Hopkins, Devises, Stevenson and Grantham. Returned to mY aid post Just before two shells landed about twenty yards away; the fumes filled my aid post. Tuesday, May l~th Had my last good sleep for some time to come; reg~etfully I lald my pajamas aside. After sick parade

Love, War, ~d Medic ins


(fifteen patients), I rode down to our Transport Center near

the International Corner, a distance of about five miles. Met Captains Crosble a~d Johnstone on the way. After a scabies injection, met American Captain Kln~ (M.0. Royal Engineers ). As I was rldln~ back to ~y unit, I saw two British balloons set on fire by Boche planes; I saw three British pilots land safely (parachutes). At 9:30 that night we moved up again to the Canal Bank and relleved the M.0. of the 9th. Also received my promotion to Captaincy:
Letter #66 Monday, May 13th My dear girl, You are a darling and I love you with all my heart. You are the one best girl in the world and I’m the lucky captor of you~ heart. Last night and tonight came a splendid array of letters from you, dearest, and I feel very happy tonight. There were six all told, including two numbered 55, and 59 and ~0, and also two unnumbered from April 22nd and 24th. You certainly are good to devote so much time to me and I do appreciate your kindness. They all were written between April 17th and 25th, so made good time across. There are several letters missing, but note you got my ~arch 28th letter and glad you did as it must have relieved your anxiety. Yes, dearest, I a~ree with you that as it takes at least three weeks for a letter to reach you, I had better always tell the truth as to whether I’m in the line or not. I’ll admit I haven’t always, but promise from now on to let you know as far as military rules permit. Am indeed glad Mrs. K. is doing nicely. Received a splendid letter of congratulations from Stella I’m going to preserve it always as it’s a fine tribute to my dear little wifey. You certainly have won Stella’s support. 3he tells me to be sure and take good care of you - you can rest assured I will. You ask me if I ever feel that I’ll never get enough of your caressing. What a question, dearie -

Love, War, and Medic ine


No,---’l’Tm not near (censored) - about 100 miles away.
So you think your mother suspects our secret. After all, no great harm if she does, is it? No one on my side suspects at all, though I’ve told Ed the truth. Several times lately I’ve hinted that when the war’s over, I thought I ought to get married and the folks are curious to know who my young lady is. They suspect Berenice Ladewick - they sure are in for a surprlse. No, I don’t mind in the least if you go out with A1 (whoever he is) or anyone else,- I know you &nd trust you thoroughly. In fact, I want you to go out and have a good time - that is ~y chief reason for wanting our engagement kept secret - so that you can continue to have a good time. I don’t want you to waste your precious year or years of life - please, dearest, go out Just as though you had never met me; go out with as many young men as you want - but love only me. So you’ve had four big letters from Ed. I’ll bet they were very interesting, too. Am I Jealous? Not a bit, dear, I’m glad he, too, has sense enough to like you. This is the end of a very pleasant day. I woke up at 8.’30 A.M., dressed, held sick parade - about twelve eases - walked over to the chateau for breakfast. After that I inspected the whole battalion, by companies, for skin diseases and found four cases of scabies and sent them to the hospital at once. That took up all morning and until 1:30 P.M. After that I had lunch, then walked back to the aid post and fixed up some of our medical kit and tested some d~inking water as to its fitness. Then back to the chateau where I stayed till after I0~00 P.M., having tea and dinner there. Ou~ gramophone (portable victrola) was going overtime today. Really, it was very Jolly. We have about fifty records and played most of them. A good many are American - a good many are Irish. Tonight after dinner we all gathered around the big fireplace in the grand dining room of the chateau. The fireplace is finished in marble and is beautiful. We had a roaring fire there. The Colonel and a guest, a machine gun major, were seated in big comfortable cushioned chairs on one side of the fire. The adjutant, assistant adjutant, signal officer and I were stretched out luxuriously on a big sofa on the other side. The intelligence officer was seated by the table - be was the official caretaker of the music. Really, it was a fine night - the rain was coming down outside, heavy guns were booming away as ever but what did we care? We were most peaceful.

I know I won’t. The more I’ll get, the more I’ll want.

Love, War, and Medic ine


But now, dearest, I’m sitting up in bed in my paJamas writing by candlelight to my darling wiley, l’m all alone. Everything is very quiet. And l’m very happy, yet ever so lonesome for you, my own sweetheart. Honey, can’t you hear my heart beating for you? It’s all yours - Just for the taking. My arms are Just aching to grasp you and hold you tightly to ~e. I want to feel your heart beating against mine. I want your llps pressed up against mine - not once, but ~any ti~es. Please, dearest, take me in your arms. May I put my head in your lap so you can stroke my hair and bend down and kiss Darling, our doll-home will be a paradise for you and me. Yes, indeed, we will then and there be able to love each other to our heart’s content. I won’t ever have enough. Dearest, do you ever dream of our wedding day? I do and often - day dreams. You are walking by my side down the aisle. You are a vision of loveliness all in white. Things are indistinct but my lips tell me the fervor with which you love me and consent to be my wife. And I, on my part, am blind to all else except you - I’ m supreme ly happy. Good night, Nina, honey, it’ s midnight now. Please bend over and kiss me as you’re going to do when you’re mine and l’m
Your s


Wednesday, May 15th We tre in the Canal bank all day. There was a heavy barrage all night, especially at 3~30 A.M., and German 18 pounders fell Just in front of our dugout; they made our corrugated iron rattle and, of course, sleep almost impossible. Luckily, our dugout was pretty strong. Letter #67 Tuesday, May 14th Dearest girl, Salute your hubby with a big kiss and a fine hug for he’s now a captain and has hoisted another bar on each shoulder. ~o, I don’t mean that kind of a bar at all - merely the little silver duJlnger for

Love, War, and Medicine

wear. My new commission came today; it’s dated May 2nd and I accepted it at once and signed the paper callin~ for the oath of office. And, dearest, the mail also brought me a wonderful letter from you, No. 56. It is A-I and I love every word of it. Glad to hear you received my letter of April 5th. So you wrote that letter while dressed like a Jap in a kimono and slippers. Do I object to holding you~ kimono-covered f~rm tightly? I do not - I’d simply love to do so. ~ay I squeeze you very hard and kiss you again and again? And may I lay my head to your heart so that I can hear your heart beating away so truly and devotedly? Some day, darlir~, I’m goin~ to teach you all about the heart - I’ll be your subject and your ear will learn a new use. This is Just a wee note, Nina - the mail is Just leaving. I want you to get this so will close with a heart full of love and kisses to my angel girl. Your devoted Captain Best wishes to the folks. Have I been writing you too many letters lately? Guess I’ve averaged six a week the last few weeks. Tell me if I’m inflicting too much punishment on you. Letter #68 Wednesday, May 15th Dearest Sweetheart, It’s a glorious day. The sun is shinir~ brightly. Won’t you come and sit by my side and bask in its warmth? I’d love to have you near me, especially on such splendid days as today. Another half month gone. The days and months roll by with startling rapidity and it will soon be a year since we met again and parted. I partly answered your letter 56 yesterday, but there are a few more points to consider. You speak of havir~ a good ten hours sleep,and that makes me happy, for I’m very much afraid you’re not getting enoug~ sleep these days. In answer to your ideas about marriage, as portrayed in ’Why Marry?’ I don’t know what to say. You see, until I met you, I never thought much about this matter one way or the other. I had a vague idea that at some future date I’d like to have a nice wife when I could afford one, t~at is, be able to support her decently. It was later than that that love awakened in me, and I began to realize,

Love, War, and

and do realize it more and more every day~ that love is ~essential to happinessfand that marriage is essential to love. But on thinki~ it over, I do not believe with those who say that a marriage must be bindin~ even though love has departed. Such a life is cruel. 7 do believe in divorce, but only when absolutely necessary. About free love which you say you advocate though you really don’t, as you admit yourself, I agree with you on one point, that mentally we are man and wife as we have pled6ed ourselves to one another. But, though usually against conventionalities, I am in this case inclined to agree with society which demands a few formal words be said at the ceremony. I do not believe that any man and woman have the right to live as man and wife without a legal ceremony. Think of how topsy-turvy the world would be without this formality. It restricts thousands and thousands of illmated love affairs, yet does not prevent a single righteous love from true happiness. I am not conventional, I merely kno~ that I, for one, would never dream of ’free love’, and I know that deep down in your heart you a~ree with me. Have moved again - a bit nearer the llne, though still well back. It is very peaceful today as it has been for a long time. Yes, I do like my new battalion. I’ve been with them about six weeks already and feel very much at home. I wonder, dearest, if, as I write, you’re at work or at home. Perhaps you’re sitting in your bedroom writin~ to me. You’re probably in a beautiful Japanese kimono with slippers to match and you~ hair is down. Please, dearest, may I steal into your room behind you and gently pull your head back and bend over you so that my lips touch yours in a firm though tender kiss? Hay I wind my fingers through your wonderful hair? Hay I stoop over and lift you up and hold you closely to me? Then may I sit on the chair and deposit you gently on my lap and then put my arms around you and the kimono? There, that’s fine. Dearie, I’m glad you are d~essed in soft clothes for I’m holding you very, very ti@htly so that you can hardly breathe. And, oh, glrl, the feel of your cheek against mine, the perfume of your hair, your closeness to me - all these make me supremely happy. I could crush you in my arms for my love is strong. Dearest, aren’t you a bit frightened at the prospect in store for you? Last night I had a pleasant dream, though a short one. I dreamed that I walked into a room somewhere I don’t know where. A lot of my friends were there -

Love, War, and Medicine


I shook hands with them - they were all seated. I passed alonE, shakin~ hands with each one, when I looked up and saw you seated in the corner. I was startled as I hadn’t seen you for a lon6 time. But, in front of them all, I substituted a real, honest-to-goodness kiss in place o the handshake to the rest. Just then one of ou~ 18 pounders let fly ferociously and I woke up. That’s all fop today, Nina dear, except to send you a big kiss and a tight hug. Your fond bubble, Lee P.S. Will ~epeat that I’ve been promoted to captain. On thinking this over, the promotion besides the honor involved means a big thing ~or you and me. It sans an increase in reputation and a doctor’s practice depends on reputation. It also means an increased salary from about $2,~50 a year to about $2,950 - that’s not bad fop a kid, is it? That includes allowances, too. That inerease will buy the baby shoes, won’t it - the one we haven’t got as yet. Thursday, May 16th A pleasant day and for a change no barrage. Received permission to visit the City of St. 0met for a day and went there by ambulance and train. and visited the Crosbie ). Had dinner there


A.D.M.S. and the D.A.D.M.S. (Captain

Boche dropped seven bombs very close to our

camp. The next day, after a good sleep, toured the city and had a haircut and a good dinner at the Commercial Hotel in St. Omer. Also bought some lace made in Ypres for mother and for Nina, then back to my unit by motor lorry. Letter


Thursday~ gay 16th My only darling, Another lovely day and warm. It is glorious, but it is on these splendid days that I long to be out doing some exercise like swimminE, baseball or tennis. However, I’Ii have to wait a while.

Love ¯ War, and ]~e die ine

Your letter #57 arrived last night. Funny how they stroll in. I received 5P and 60 almost a week ago and since then 55, 56, and 57. Your letter was fine as all of yours are. Also read the interesting letter you enclosed, the one from the engineer over here to your boss. I llke the letter very much for there is nothing boastful about it. I agree with him when he says people at home must forget all business except that of winning the war. The people in the United States do not yet fully appreciate the magnitude of the Job they’ve undertaken. Don’t let anyone tell you Germany is on its last legs or is ripe for a revolution or other rot like that. Out here we know that our enemy is very strong, and that they’ve plenty of ammunition and guns and men. Don’t make the mistake of thinkin~ that I’m pessimistic - I’m not. I know we’ll win, but it will take a lot to really wake up the folks back home to the seriousness of the Job. What we need over here and need badly and quickly are an army of at least five million men, thousands of big and small guns and thousands of aeroplanes and skillful pilots. When we get all that, I honestly think we’ll win quickly. From war to marriage is quite a Jump, but we’ll take a long breath and make the leap. You ask my opinion on engagements and weddings. About engagements, I agree with you that they are a waste of time. If two people love each other, marriage is the thing and not a long engagement. Of course, in our case war separates us. We are engaged, thou@h not publicly, and we are likely to be engaged a year or two, perhaps longer,who can tell? That is not our fault; I would not have it that way if I could help it. About weddings, my views are almost yours, though not exactly. It is me~,e only you and I to be considered, I’d agree with you that the best way is to get a license, be married by an alderman or minister, send a telegram home ’I’m married’ and go my way. But you and I have mothers, dearest, not to speak of other almost as dear relatives and equally dear friends. Personally, I know my mother (and my grandmother - Will’s mother) would be b~okenhearted if she could not attend the wedding,and I’m sure your mother would also. And when we consider how much we owe them and how gratified and pleased they’d be to attend¯ it seems to me that it is so little we can do for them to have them present at the ceremony. Darling, don’t you think so? I’m not desirin~ a ’big’ wedding, dear, Just a simple ceremony in your home or where you wish, ln the presence of your family and one or two members of mine¯ perhaps, and your few 8cod friends such as Stella, ~r. and Hrs. Kraus and Hiss McKeon.

Love, War, and Yedici~e

But, please excuse me - I have no right to dictate at all - I promise to do Just as you wish. I don’t care how I marry you, Just so I do, and then - oh, girl, you w-TYI be mi~e forever and we will be so very, very _happy. Part 2 May l~th Dear girl, Two days have passed since I started this. You see, while I was in the middle of it, the adjutant of the battalion asked me if I wanted to take a day off. The brigade was provldin~ a big motor lorry for twelve officers to go to a good-sized city (about 40,000 people before the war) f~r a day’s outing. Naturally, I Jumped at the chance. In one-half hour I had cared for my patients and was off by ambulance train to our transport lines. I reached there in an hour and a half and stayed there the night. Yesterday morning we left by lorry at 8:30 A.M. and reached the town at noon. It was very hot and I ate enough dust on the road to last me the rest of my life. It was a long and rough ride and we were all glad when we drew up in the pretty square of the city. We spent a very pleasant day. First went to the ordnance dept.-and with the other officers bought items of kit, etc. Then we had a 6ood lunch at a French hotel (yes, this city is in France). We struck a meatless day, but the food was good. After lunch I Journeyed over to a coiffeur and had a haircut, shave and hair wash- yes, and had my nails manicured, but the girl wasn’t pretty so I hurried her along on the Job. Let’s see, what did I do after that? Oh, yes, I had my photo taken - a small one for my identification case. Also ordered a few postcards and will mail you one when they c ome.

Walked about to~n all afternoon lookin~ in the shop

windows, buying here and there and bought a baseball
and hope to find someone who can throw it around a bit with me.
After dinner (also ’tres bien’) I was Just goir~ along with another officer when we passed a shop which had a sign on it ’Ypres lace.’ The window was attractive and we each made purchases. The material is genuine Belgian lace made by refugees from Ypres. And I sent you this morning a little remembrance; please accept it with all the love one person can give to another. And, dearest, it will be so pretty on our table in our little dollhouse. It will be a st-E-rt in furnishing---~e home. I also sent a rectangular one to my mother for her birthday, and a little lace collar to sister Marie (she asked me a long time ago to send her some Belgian lace if I ever had the opportunity~.

T.ove, War, and Medici~


After that we Journeyed back. We pulled in at midnight after a most Jolly ride. We sang almost all the way. Two Scotch Tommies hitched on our lorry and tumbled in. They were drunk, but not enough to lose their wit. And they kept us splitting our sides for almost an hour. One, a sergeant, kept repeating, over and over a~ain, in broad Scotch (I won’t attempt it), ,~hat do you think of an officer who tells you to open rapid fire, one round, at the wooden tree in front? And I fired, - and missed.’ The lorry took us to the transport lines. I slept there over night. This morning I rejoined my battalion after a long, hot ride on my beautiful chestnut mare. My new horse, Flossle, is a beauty, very fast, and one of the best Jumpers in the battalion. And here I am, back in a cool big dugout behind the llne. I found everything Just as I left it - very peaceful and quiet. And it sure is hot today. Summer has

And, dearest, when I came back here a few hours ago, I found four lovely letters from you, Numbers 52, 53, 54 and a card from April 20th. Those were the missing ones and here they are over a week later than Humbers 59 and 60. Also had a letter from Paul and two from doctors in Chicago. I love every word you write, dear, for your whole heart lies revealed to me. You don’t say so, but between the lines I can read the agony in your soul in those trying days while you were waiting for news from me. I can easily see, l~ina, how you worried over me, how you thought of me. Why, you even wrote me one letter after a vain attempt to sleep. No, dearest, I won’t scold you for doing that for I appreciate how anxious you must have been. But what can I do to lessen your worries, dear? In case of another battle, I’II do my best to cable, but don’t believe there’s much hope of doing that for cable stations are far away - there is no way of getting messages away. I must rely on letters as heretofore and will write as promptly and as often as I can. And, dearest, I will tell you the truth as far as l’m allowed. And I want you to know, dearest, that I have been telling you the truth for a long time, and I want you to believe me when I tell you what’s going on. For example, the last two months have been, on the whole, peaceful. There have been occasional artillery barrages, it is true. Some shots were close. A few bombs landed a hundred yards away or so. But that is all - no infantry action to speak of at all in our sector. So I ask you to be trusting - I,ii tell you when l’m in danger, and when I say l’m not, l’m not - and you must

Love, War, and Medicine


no__t believe I am. We have no secrets, dear, please trust me. Yes, dearest, .qtella has been talking to me about you, but your head might swell if I repeated what she says. Enough that she’s a true friend of yours and your most ardent admirer and supporter, that is, next to me. Thank you, dear Nina, for your encouragement. You want me to do my duty - and I will. You are a true American girl and I’m madly in love with you. You ask me to tell you what I need. I need you, dear girl, that’s all - isn’t that enough? I have plenty to eat, plenty to wear, plenty of sleep, plenty of readin~ material - all I want is you and your arms about me. Guess I’ll have to wait awhile. Please don’t worry about news - I like news from you, of course; I want to know what you’re doing. But I like your kind of letters best where you pour out your heart and soul. That’s what I want. I want to bore to the very bottom of your heart. I want to hear you tell me over and over again that you love me. I want to hear about all you~ thoughts and dreams and air castles and plans. Especially do I like to read about your wonderful dreams of the dollhouse like the one you wrote me where we entered after we’d been secretly married and I took you in my arms and gave you a long, ardent kiss. Please tell me all your Honey, isn’t that enough for today? Can’t you tell from the above how I worship you and long for you. I already know you well. Someday I’ll know you better, and I’m confident that as the days and months and years go by my love and devotion for my darling little girl will grow and grow. Au revolt, Nina: Here’s a bi~ kiss and a strong hug and with it a heart choked full of love. Your eve r-fa’ithful Lee Best regards to all. I wrote you yesterday from the Y.M.C.A. of the town I visited - Just a wee note. Saturday, May 18th Another bright and warm day. Captain Henderson

and I went on horseback to the canal bank. There was some shelling. At I0:00 P.M. walked to St. Jean and

Love, War, and Medicine


relieved Adams of the Pth at an elephant type dugout for my new aid post. was captured.
Received a letter from Nina K.; they heard I I sent cable with denial. Sunday, May 19th Warm and quiet. I even played my mandolin while sitting in front of my dugout. Began reading a book by Williamson entitled ’A Soldier of Legion.’ Finished the book the next day: good. Received a note saying my transfer to the A.E.F. would perhaps happen in a month. That morning a big 5.P shrapnel case came through ou~ cookhouse next door; it Just missed our waiter. Letter


Saturday, May 18th Dearest but worried Nina, Your letter #65, dated May Ist, came last night and has troubled me for you inform me I’ve been captured. That’s news to me ! There’s no truth in .the report at all. I’m alive and healthy and still with the Please let me know who spread that rumor and on what grounds. If any such bad luck should befall me, I’ll let you know at once if possible. As it is, I sent a reassuring cable to you last night, but can’t say when it will get through, if ever. You see, it’s difficult to send messages from the line and that’s where I am You say that May Ist New York Times had an article in it about heavy casualties of United States doctors with the British. I wish you’d send it to me if you can. Any other news items like that, will you, dear? Am glad to hear Ed writes you frequently. He’s a good kid - I always call him a kid even though he is a year older than I. Has he congratulated you yet? You know I told him our secret though I have not heard from him since. It’s over a week now since I heard from him. No, dearest, I don’t want you to crawl on your hands and knees to me and beg me to take you. Why,

Love, War, and Medicine


girl, it’s I should do the crawling and begging for you’re far too good for me. No, dearest, I want you to walk erectly to me, to hold out your arms to me, and to clasp me to you. Girl, that’s what I want and I want that badly. My new home is a protected shelter some hundred yards behind the front line. It’s very comfortable. My aid post is a few yards away. It’s nero about noon and I’m sittim~ out on the side of the road in front of the shelter. The sun is out strong and the day is very warm. It’s lovely sittin~ here though the scenery around here could be improved a bit. If you can imagine that there were no shell holes about here and no sandbags or dugouts and demolished trees, it wouldn’t be bad. But signs of war are visible all about here. Had a good sleep this mornir~ from 3:00 A.M. to II:00 A.M. Just finished breakfast. You see, when in the line, most of the routine work is done at night. In daytime you’re under observation so you keep low and sleep most of the time. No wounded, for example, can come down here in daylight - only at night. Fortunately, there have been no wounded so far - touch wood ! Thanks so much for the three sheets of music and book of college song~. They are Just what I want. My mandolin is here with me and l’m going to tinkle it a bit today. Dressing in the mornings while in the line is very simple. You open your eyes, look about a bit, get up you’re all dressed. If you’re fastidious, as I am, you wash, shave and clean your teeth. That’s simple, isn’t it? You never take off even your shoes for you never know what may happen. That’s all for today except to repeat, as l’ve done so many times and hope soon to be able to tell you in person, that you have won my heart completely. l’m all yours, every bit of me. And I want you and your love. I want to feel the fervor of your kisses and hugs. I want the tenderness of your caresses. I want to Just gather you in my arms and hold you tightly to me. I don’t want to ever let you go. Here’s a great big kiss, darling, to the sweetest girl living. From her uncaptured boy, Lee Regards to all.

Love, War, and Medicine


Saturday, ~ay Ipth Dear Folks, Back with my battalion after a thirty-six hour vacation. By special permission twelve of us went by motor lorry to a fair-sized town about three hours away. It is a pretty decent place. I wrote you from there and will mail you some postcards from there. Only had about nine hours in the town and spent it buying a few thln~s I needed. Took a walk about the town. Had some pictures taken - one small one for my identification book and a few postcard photos. Will mail so~ ho~e when they come. Received a letter from Paul dated April 14th and also a Sentinel. Am indeed glad you are bearing regularly from Ed. He sent me a newspaper ’Stars and Stripe s ¯ ’ Yes, I did apply for a captaincy and have been promoted as I wrote you already. AI Barnett mailed me some new insignia and now I have the double bars on each shoulder. Have no difficulty in carrying the extra weight. Received a letter from Nina Kleinman last night with startling ’news.’ She told me that a Chicago cousin of Stella Kraus’ said I was captured by the Boche. Where that rumor started, I don’t know. If you have heard it, let me know how it started and by whom. Of course, it’s false, l’m far from being a prisoner. And even if that fate should ever happen to me, there would be nothing to worry about. The Germans treat enemy doctors very well,and put them to work caring for their own wounded and sick and in about three months, they free them and send them back. That’s the rules of the Geneva Convention and it’s lived up to, as I know from some who have returned after being prisoners in Germany. But don’t even listen to any rumors about me - wait till you hear from me. Had a fine ride yesterday on my new chestnut mare. She’s a peach and very fast and the best Jumper in the battalion. It’s a pleasure Just to sit on her back. I don’t get so many chances to ride now as I did before while I was with the Entrenching Battalion. Also received a letter from Doctor Bloch. He says things are topsy-turvy at County Hospital as the staff and internes are constantly changing; they are enlisting rapidly. Of course, most of my old crew are already in the service. Also had a letter from Doctor Greenberg who wrote from Wesley Hospital where he’s an interne, but says he’ll get his call soon. ’Everybody’s doing it now1’

I~ove, ~ar, and Medicine

Following Pa~e ~12





~ E~ 52 ~ROAI~A~ ~OOM 100C,


Received word from Nina that a cousin of hers told her I had been captured in the "Battle of St. Quentin." I cabled "Not Captured."

Love, War, and Medicine


No other news today. It’s still quite peaceful. Don’t know there’s a war on. Affe c t i onat ely, Lee Tuesday, May 21st Another warm and sunny d~y and I’m getting tanned. Took care of several sick Tommies and two slightly wounded. Received a letter from Ed along ~ith congratulations on my engagement to Nina K. Letter #71

Monday, May 20th Dearest glrl, Just a wee note tonight for my little darling. T~@t to let you know I’m 0~p. and that I can’t help thlnki~-oI~ ~u all day ~nd all night. Your letter ~t~f, .~h arrived two days ago and which I answered promptly (No. 76), still has me worried. That one is the one i~ which you told me I was reported to be a prisoner. My letter #70 disproved that. I also cabled you - that is, I tried to. I don’t know whether it got through or not. Let me know date it comes, if ever. Today has been a glorious one. I slept till 10:O0 A.M. as I didn’t go to bed till about 1:30 A.M. Most of the day I’ve sat out in front of my dugout reading or talking. The sun was very warm. We sat hatless and coatless and believe me, girl, it was hot. I have a beginning coat of tan. Play my mandolin occasionally. Am learning those new songs you sent me and they’re pretty. The mail is due any minute now - that’s the big event of the twenty-four hours. You have no-~ISea what mail means to all of us. -A letter from you is priceless. I do hope Mrs. Kraus is getting along nicely. How goes the swimming? Did that air pilot ever call on you, Lieutenant Pollock? How are you feeling? Is it hot in New York? How’s baseball progressing? Have you seen any games yet? Gee, I’d like to get out and heave a few baseballs over the plate. Here’s a big kiss, dearest, and a load of love. The kind of love I have for you is not beaten by even the most romantic of novels. For you’re my very life

Love, War, and Nedicine


and existence. You’ve become an inseparable part of me, my glrl, my ideal, my heroine, my sweetheart and my little wife. You’re everything to me. All my hopes and plans are built up around you. I build air castles about you and dream of happiness so great as to be ecstasy. And always your face shines brightly, your llps invite me, your eyes implore me, your arms call me. Girl, you may rest assured I’d come in a minute if I could. I’m longing for you with all my heart and soul. And Just as soon as I can, I’ll come to you - and I’ll never leave you. When this war is over and I sall past the dear old Statue of Liberty, I’m going to take you in my arms and am not going to let go until you beg for mercy. And Just as soon after I land as possible, you’re going to be mine and I’m going to be yours. Ever-faithful Lee Letter #72 Nonday, Nay 21st Dearest girl, Eleven months ago today I came to New York. I alighted from the train, walked through the station. Suddenly a young lady came up and kissed me in a cousinly way. She hauled me along on a motor bus to her home and made me feel very comfortable and happy. For two days she showed me around and was as kind and hospitable as possible. I sailed with a new friendship made - yes, more than that usually entertained between cousins, yet not much more. I was very grateful to this little glrl. Ny ship pulled out. I saw her waving her hand good-by. I felt pretty lonesome as though something had gone out of my life. But something did not go out of my llfe; something came in, instead. And--~at something was love - pure, unadulterated, wholesome love. And the object of my affection was that same little cousin - but utterly transformed. The cousinly mask has been torn off for good. True genuine love has replaced it, the love of a man for the noblest, purest, sweetest woman God ever made. And may God keep her and watch over her as long as she lives. Nina dear, I received your nice little card of April 29th. Yes, I do wish you could borrow me from the government for a while. That would be ’tres bien.’ Gee, I’d like to see you, dearest - what loving we would do.

Love, War, and Medicine


Thanks for World’s Work, Every Week, Sunday pictures a~d a song (’Germany’s Dream’); haven’t tried that yet. You are good to me and I want you to be good to me the rest of your llfe. Will you? Had a letter from A1 last night. He’s fine and dandy. Too bad he didn’t get his promotion - nobody at his hospital did. He deserves it. He left Chicago over a year ago. Did you get the centerpiece, dear? How is Mrs. K. and Clarence? My best to all. Did you give your mother - our mother - my love on Mother’s Day. Dinner is ready, 8o must quit. Loads of love, kisses and hugs from The -Boy-Who - Le ft - i l-Mont hs -Ago Lee Tuesday, May 22 Another sunny day except for a brief hailstorm. At ll:30 P.M. I was relieved by Captain Picken of the 2nd, and then Hopklnson and our Headquarters detail were off at 12:30 A.M. and reached my aid post at Brislen and promptly got into my pajamas again - great. of letters, especially one from Nina - then 2:00 A Letter #73 Wedne sday, May 22nd My darling glrl, Your loving letter #63 came last night and made me very happy for your words are sweet as honey and are like music to my ears. I do love to hear from you - you know that, dear, don.t you? Please send the name and address of Celia’s brother. Perhaps I shall run across him sometime and it’s nice to meet someone you know. That was a sad accident about Mrs. Spingold and Rose call~-~ on you when you were lounging about. Girl, I’m sure I’d love you to death if I ever see you in that attire with your hair hanging down your back. What would you have defoe, dearest, if I had walked in on you that day, unexpectedly, instead of the Read a bunch sleep at

Love, War, and Medic ine


Spingolds? ’Fess up, be honest, what would you have done ? Received a peach of a letter from Ed yesterday. He wrote how thunderstruck he was to know we love each other - he never expected it at all. Just thou~t cousinly love existed. He congratulates me and is writing you also. He goes on to say, ’But, kiddo, surprised that I am at the news, I am thoroughly happy about same as she is some girl. To be perfectly honest with you, Lee, I was thinking of marrying Nina myself. However, I am a cheerful though sad loser, nevertheless, I sure am proud to have her for a sister-in-law. Say, Lee, won’t the folks, though, fall over when they hear this news’. One good thing, Lee, they sure will be mighty happy as our dear folks do idolize Nina Just as I do. Lee, you have landed a ’Jewel’ and being in the jewelry business Ithough now on detached service with Uncle Sam, United States of America), ! sure do know their value.’ W~at do you think of that, dearest? Now, do you speculate any more as to your reception by my folks? Doesn’t that m~ke you realize what my people think of you? Ed also enclosed your farewell letter to him. It is wonderful, as all of yours are. He says, ’Just before sailing Nina mailed me a most wonderful farewell letter - am enclosing same to you, but please return sa~e as it’s very precious to me - this letter, too, outlines her most wonderful character to advantage.’ So you can see, dearest, that you have conquered Ed almost as you have me. There must be something magnetic about you -what is it, dear? It is too bad there isn’t another you for Ed, but there’s only one you and she belongs to me and will be mine as long as we llve. N’est ce pas, ma cherie? Also had a letter from my uncle Abe Herst. I suppose you know Dora has a new daughter. Rd and I will have to be reintroduced to the family when we get back. The kids are growing up rapidly and new ones keep coming. Just heard that one of Paul’s friends reached seventeen and got his father’s consent and enlisted in the navy. l’m worried for fear Paul will take it into his head to do something similar. You know he’ll be sixteen July 21st and he thinks he’s a man already. How are you, dearest? Are you taking care of yourself? Getting enough recreation? Doing any swimming? You never sent me that photo of you in a bathing suit which you never promised to send me. Have you one? Did you get the little photo I sent you, the one taken at St. Quentin last January? Did you ever get

Love, War, and Medicine


the letter in which I told you I had changed my government policy of $10,000 so that you and mother are equal beneflclarles? Is there anything else I can do for you, dearest? Do you need anything I can get you out here? Remember, Nina, you are my wife in my eyes and I want to look out for you in every way I can. The next time I send money to the United States, should I send it to you? You could use It as you wish. If you wanted to, you could invest it for me or could use It any way you wish. I am savlng about $1~0 a month now and with my promotion wlll be saving about ~190-$200 a month. I feel sure that when I have about $2,000 we can marry and not be stinted. What do you think, dear? Not that I intend to wait till I have that much, if peace should come quickly. No indeed, I want you as soon as possible. Hang finances’. I started out to write a wee note and here I am rambling on as usual. Do I write too much to you? I’ve been writing almost every day to you, and the postman must be remarking, not to speak of your mother. What does she say about your numerous letters from me? Do the folks ever speak about you and me? Darling, won’t you come over here and sit in my lap out here in the sun? I would hold you very closely to me and kiss you very gently and tenderly. I’d handle you like the rose you are, very fondly and devotedly. One arm around your neck, the other around your waist. How will that do? And you can rest you~ head on my shoulder and fall asleep. And 1,11 watch you sleep and kiss your eyelids softly so as not to awaken you. But you’ll wake up and smile so happily that I too will be in heaven. You’ll reach up to me and pull me down to you and hold me tightly. Girl, girl, I’m almost lnsane with love for you. My love is so strong I feel as though I’m bursting with its augmenting volume. Can’t you hear me calling you, honey? Don’t you realize that I’m Your devoted boy, Lee Thursday, May 23rd Went horsebacking and Flossie (my new horse) almost killed me - she insisted on backing into a ditch. Also met some officers of the 2nd Argyle & Sutherland (33rd Division); also met Captain Duncan and Captain

Love, War, and Medicine


Anderson of the 15th Royal Irish Regiment, and gave a lecture to my stretcher-bearers. Thursday, May 23rd Dear Folks, Yesterday was a good day as I received Pa’s two letters of April 18th and 25th; and the day before Ed wrote me a long letter and enclosed a few more letters from home. So I know you’re all well and happy and I’m very pleased at that. Ed seems very happy and he should be because he’s got a good Job. He sees movies and plays and hasn’t too much work. I think I know where he is now - about 200-300 miles from me. Letters only take four days between us now - I mean each way. That’s not bad. We’ve been relieved and are well back of the line, back in the chateau about which I wrote you some time ago. It’s very pleasant. The weather has been lovely up to today, but the dust is flying about so rapidly you’ re eating the stuff. How do you like this stationery? It’s given by the Church Army (Church of England - equivalenb to Episcopalian). Nothing exciting he re. Lots of love to all. Affect ionat ely, Lee Letter #74 Honey, Honey, Thursday, May 23rd You are the dearest and finest girl in the world. Yes, you are and I love you with all my heart and soul. Yes, you guessed it - l’ve received four splendid letters from you, Numbers 61, 66 and 68 plus a card of May 5th. All are great, but #68 is beyond praise. I keep reading and rereading it. It is marvelous, that’s all. About Ed, you need worry no more. l’ve told him we are engaged and he’ll keep it secret. So go ahead and write him Just as often as you wish. I can’t blame him at all for beginning to fall in love with you. I not only began - I fell hard. No, dearest, l’m not dead tired at the end of the day’s work. Far from--~. I never lived so lazy a life as l’ve done out here. Of course, during a battle - you’re very busy and occasionally at other times. But most of the time I have very little to do. And I chafe under that as l’m an energetic chap I like to be doing something all the time. I wasn’t

Love, War, and Medlcine


born lazy, but this army life certainly does make you lazy. What must army life be llke in peace times? I would not llke it at all, I know. To think, darling, that you gave up wealth and comfort to come to me, that you turned down Doctor Hirsch’s nephew for me - you are a doll and I worship you. With God’s help, I’ll make up by devotion to you for my material shortcomings. No, I will refuse to scold you when you overspend your allowance. Fact is, I think I’ll appoint you chief treasurer and cashier of our firm. How will that suit you? Then you can scowl at me if I overdraw my allowance. Please, dear, may I have a dime for carfare today, I’ll be asking you, and you’ll regretfully dig down into some secret pocket and haul out a coin. And 1,11 kiss you gratefully. How will that do? And if you won’t give me tD~ dime, I’ll pack up and go home to father - - I will not: No, indeed, I’ii stay with you through thick am-~-thin. You’ll have to drive me to get me away from home nights. And I’m not worrying about your housekeeping ability, though I’m glad to hear you’re an expert at making cocktails. In answer to your card of May 5th, I am in Class 1 condition. Never felt better in my life. Is Stella back from Atlantic City yet and when are you going to take your vacation? Be sure and take as long as you can for I know you work hard and need a rest. I wrote Stella today, but forgot to thank her for the little book of songs she sent me. Will you thank her for me? You can kiss her for me - I’ll pay you back when I see you. Don’t forget to remind me. Now for answering that little book entitled #68. I am very happy to know you received those four letters and I’m sure since then you have had many more for I’ve written almost every day for the last seven weeks or so. You ask why Sam Solomon doesn’t go for Amelia himself; it’s because he is interested in another girl, a new friend of his whom I’ve never met. Sam has been called up, I just heard. I think he’s now at Camp Grant. As to where I was in the last battle, I was with an Entrenching Battalion, but whether that was included in Carey’s scrub regiment or not, I really can’t say. (Censored) Am glad you prayed for the French woman who was so kind to us after the stunt - she was very decent. Dearest, you praise me too much - I’m Just an average chap. I didn’t play that mandolin during the fight;

Love, War, and Medicine


I had my hands full dressing wouBded and getting them away. l’m not a hero - far from it, though I don’t believe l’m a coward. Yes, as I wrote you, I have been promoted. No, I haven’t put up my service chevron yet. I’II wait till July 3rd which will make a year in England and France; then I’ii put up two of the gold chevrons. Dearest, I appreciate you saying you want nothing but a plain gold band on your finger, but I do want to get you a nice diamond ring for our engagement. Won’t you tell me what size? Perhaps Ed can get one for me here in France. He’s an expert and I hope can get one rather reasonably. Concerning Berenice Ladewick, the Chicago girl, I anticipated your advice to tell her, but I’ve already written you w~at I wrote her. I did not tell her, though, that I loved anyone else, but Just told her, to repeat, that she and I could never be more than friends. Of course with the new ruling, I get no more parcels from her. I have not as yet had a reply to my letter to her. Am waiting for it and will let you know what she says in reply. But you need have no fears about me, dear, she is nothing to me but a friend and never will be either. I only love one little girl and she’s my queen of New York. We’ve been relieved and are out of the line again. Once more the beautiful chateau is our headquarters. A good many of the men went in swimming today, but the water’s too cold. I don’t live in the chateau, I merely eat there. I live in the aid post as it’s handy for my work. It’s an iron-roofed she lte r. It’s now almost midnight and I’ll soon be in the Land of Nod. But first won’t you please come and sit on the edge of my bed for a few minutes? It’s true I’m in bed now and in pajamas - white with a lavender stripe. But I grant you equal privilege; you may sit by me in a negligee; a nice kimono will do splendidly. Dearest, there need be no conventionalities between you and me, need there? Why should we, who belong to each other, worry about dogmatic rules of dress? I like you in a kimono, you like to be in a kimono; therefore a kimono it will be, won’t it, dear? There, you’re sitting on the edge of my bed in your kimono. You turn your head to me and in a sudden

Love, War~ and Medicine

passion I put my arm about your neck and kiss you again and again. You put your arm about my neck, too, and your cheek up to mine. I can hear your heart beating rapidly and so is mine. You are so close to me I am intoxicated with happiness. I hold you so tightly you breathe with difficulty. Oh, girl, what sweetness from you~ llps. How soft and wholesome your cheek feels against mine. How delightful the fragrance of your hair. How snugly my arm goes about your waist. I am very happy, Nina. Please don’t leave me. Kiss me good night over and over again; I hate to let you go. Alas, dear, that this pretence must be. Oh, for peace, for home, for you, for our little dollhouse, Just you and I. Girl, glrl, I’m going wild about you. I can’t help loving you all the time. I am very happy that I am sure I love you for your sake alone. I don’t want an heiress nor a housekeeper not a business manager. You’re neither of them, primarily at least. Thank God. I’m especially glad you’re not the first, at any rate. I abhor marriages for money. No, dearest, I’m marrying you because I want you and love you with all my heart, soul and body - Just you. I want a true, pure a~d devoted girl and I have one in you - no better one lives. Nina, sweetheart, I am very happy. I realize the power of love for the first time in my llfe and have found a precious Jewel. I will guard her all my life. I will watch out for her, protect her with my life, if need be, and will provide for her to the best of my ability. For I am on edge for the few simple words that will make me Her devoted husband, Lee Sunday, May 26th Up again to the Canal Bank aod relieved the M.O. of the 9th. We always moved at night to avoid Boche watchers. That night arrived at my new quarters at ii:00 P.M. Letter #7~ May 25th Deare st glrl, A lovely day today after a rotten wet yesterday. The sun is out again and it’s lovely. The Tommles

Love, War, and Medicine

are swimming in the lake here at the chateau. They don’t wear much so can’t invite you to attend the performance. The water is too cold for me as yet. I walked a mile instead and had a fi~e shower bath at an improvised bathhouse. This afternoon I brought out the baseball I bought in that city I visited last week, and I induced a couple of officers here to play catch a bit. ’Twas great fun. One of the officers insisted on catching the ball butterfingered - he’s now hors-de-combat for he received one on the end of orm finger. We have an old piano here in the chateau - sadly out of tune and with a good many notes silent, chiefly the important ones, of course. But we manage to have a good time with it and your music and my mandolin. The colonel plays piano poorly, so he and I massacred ’Underneath the Stars’ and others today. Had my stretcher-bearers out on a drill today. Gave them a good two hour workout, lifting, lowering and carryin~ stretchers~ etc. I don’t know much about stretcher-bearlng myself, but had another officer who’s good at it show ~y men and me. This is Just a wee note, sweetheart, as the mail is just leaving and I want you to get this as soon as possible. With it goes all my love to the dearest girl living. Many, many kisses and a big hug. Your sweetheart, Lee Kindest regards to our mother, brothers, sister, brother-in-law, sister-in-law, niece, chum and friends May and Stella. Monday, May 27th Today we were really gassed by the Boche - they shot over a lot of gas shells (phosgene, chlorine and tear gas). I had to put on my respirator and wore it for a long time. I must add that I never enjoyed being on the receiving end of gas warfare. Remember: the Boche started it. We were forced to eat in another dugout as our previous mess place was blown up while we were away for a while.

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