39 Hours

American Red Cross Rest Station
November 7, 1918

Dear Mother,

Just a note before breakfast so you will hear from me about half as often as I hear from home. Those verses were fine, but you almost make me ashamed of myself for I'm not so bad off -- now that I've got an orderly job I'm not working at all. The worst hardship we have is staying in camp and that's not so bad. The only thing I want now is to see service -- have been talking to a wounded soldier and sailor. The soldier was wounded on the 28th day of July by a big shell and is now invalided home. The sailor was wounded in an air raid in London, and as he wasn't on duty he didn't get his wounded stripe like the soldier did.

We have to be back in camp by 8 o'clock tomorrow, but 39 hours is a long time it seems to us. We slept up here last night free -- they give men in uniform free cots and blankets, and rolls and coffee all night and morning. We went to a movie last night -- some of these days when I'm spending the government's money instead of taking it away from you, I'm going to see "The Passing Show" and Ziegield Follies.

Am going to send Elizabeth and Katheryn two small, ten-inch hats -- blue -- we wear 12-inch ones. They can either wear them with the steel grommet in them or leave it out and make the cap look like a French Blue Devils cap -- you'll see what I mean when they come. I'll send them with the grommet out and you can just slip it in.

Love,
Heywood

(Postmarked New York, New York, November 7, 1918)