Will drop you a few lines tonight as I am not very busy but pretty sore from marching today. We had a little double-quick stuff this AM. We have been idle for several days during transportation and wasn't used to it like we were a month ago. When we get toughened in this time, we won't be very apt to get rusty any more soon.
I don't think the war is going to last but very little longer. Things are coming our way right along, believe me. I saw something today that certainly makes a fellow feel fine. I get plum disgusted with this letter writing when I can't write what I want to. Of course, I wouldn't write anything that I thought would be of any help whatever to Germany if we were censored. But it's hard to write the little things and leave the most interesting ones out.
I haven't heard from you or anyone else since I left D.C., but just the same, I know you are there. If I never hear from you till the war is over, you will hear from me as I will write at least once a week. You see, we never know now when we get up of a morning what our address will be at night. You notice the different addresses I've given you since I left Ft. Foote, MD. Until I get to France, you will have a pretty good idea of how they are putting us over the road. Even as I write this, I don't know what my address is or what it will be when I sign my name to it. I can only say I am with the Washington Barracks Detachment of the 35th Engineers, A.E.F. somewhere in France. I don't know if I will get your letter or not, but you can write and we will see later.
I must have an iron bound constitution. I'm one of the very few who hasn't been seasick or sick from the effects of the change in climate. The water (drinking) here does the same for the boys who came across, that the water in Dakota does to the people from the south and east. I have never had a thing wrong with me yet.
I worked all day Thursday at the hospital sterilizing bed clothes and uniforms, and the like. We put them in a big boiler and turn 80 lbs pressure of hot, dry steam on them for about 30 minutes. That certainly puts the kibosh on creepers and germs without washing them.
We have two armies here in France. One fights disease while the other fights Dutch, and one army is equally as important as the other.
Say, did you ever think what a city would be like with nothing but women and little kids. That's the way it is in France, and they certainly are glad to see us soldiers. They even run through ranks and climb all over us if we stop long enough. I saw a kid Sunday PM that certainly was a second "Wardie" and I didn't lose a minute's time in getting to him, either. I slid out of that old belt and pack like a locust out of the hull and picked him up as if he was the real article.
I know this is a hard life and takes a fellow a long ways from home and all that, but I've enjoyed every step of it so far. The further I go the more interesting it gets and a fellow can't get very far away in this world. It's only a little place any more and only one big thing in it and that's the Atlantic. That won't be so big after the subs all get sunk, but as Jasper says "If it's just as big the other way as it was the way I came, it must be a crackerjack." Ha!
Well, I must close for the Lieutenant has to read all this and he is too busy as it is. We've got the best Lieutenant in Uncle Sam's Army. So fatten up that old gobbler and if I don't get back by Thanksgiving, we'll eat the old cuss on Christmas, eh? As ever your son,
Lawrence McPvt. Lawrence McCoy