1916 Letter 9
[May 10], [1916]
[pages missing]
… one but I’ll be quite content if I never see another.
They seem more terrifying in a way and yet they say they are really not so dangerous as the[y] form a much better target than the Taubes and are therefore likely to be hit sooner.
Thank heavens we’re having a little excitement. We simply stagnate till even a raid is a diversion.
We had a most awful fright in the tent the night before the last raid. Ida and Myra weren’t speaking, nor Mae and I, but bless you, after the first shot that "roused up the soldiers e’er the morning star" we were all the best little friends in the world.
Mae always says that she is a firm believer in not letting the sun go down upon her wrath, so much so that she never fights in evening and therefore has 24 hours to come and go on.
The Toronto unit has had rather a sad week. The morning after the raid Capt. Yellowlee and Capt. Wilson of #5 Can. rode over to see the Zep. The marshes are very deceptive and treacherous and are safe only on the beaten tracks. Yellowlee tried to cross an innocent looking little stream. His horse stumbled and threw him and in two minutes he was gone. They think it must have been a quicksand for they cannot find any trace of his body.
The other man of course is nearly insane. It was over so quickly he could do absolutely nothing though he worked for a long time. The horses were back in camp half an hour after they had left.
It is so sad for his people. Had he been hit by a bomb it would have been easier for them than to know he died a really useless and unnecessary death.
I had a letter from Papa the other day written April 6th and I am glad to know that the Cairo parcels have arrived. Did you have duty to pay?
I am finishing this May 10th, and am feeling quite all right again.
I am enclosing some pictures from an old standard that may not have interested you, but which we liked.
I must stop now. The mails are all balled up again – for some unknown reason – nothing from you since April 2nd.
Heaps of love,
Yours always,
Helen.