"Same old Bill, eh Mable!" - Part 7
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Part 7

"THAT LITTLE SNUB NOSED THING ACROSS THE STREET"

I aint goin to rite any more cause the sargent ast me to help him out this afternoon cleanin the guns. I dont like to leave him to do it all alone when were so near the finish. Tell the good news to your father an mother.

Yours on the home stretch Bill

Dere Mable: Here I am ritin you at the govermints expense for the last time. Were in the same place where we first rested almost a year ago. It hasnt changed much except theyve gotten in more mud an tents since then an there aint so many boats to unpack.

Weve turned in our Soizant Canses to some monument factory. Weve said good by to our horses for ever. The last thing one of them did was to try an kick me as I went past. Thats there idea of grat.i.tude. Now we got less to do than the doboys cause we havnt even got rifles to clean. This is the last letter youll ever get from me in France. If I have my say about it its the last letter youll ever get from me anywhere. I never want to get out of telefone range agen. Our boat is all ready. This will probably travel over on the same boat with me. I wanted to rite you from the A.E.F. for the last time. An by the way, Mable, that dont mean Am Expectin Flowers but Am Extremely Fortunate.

There aint much to say just like there aint much to do. I feel awful funny. I cant exactly explain it. Of course I want to go home. Thats all Ive wanted to do since November. At the same time I feel kind of sad like you do when your comin back to work from your summer vacashun. We been in the old army so long, an weve done the same things an cussed at them so many times, that you get sort of fond of the whole business just like you do any job that takes an awful long time an a lot of hard work to finish, but that youve finished. I guess you could get sentimental about piece work in a factory-after youd quit.

I never thought when I sat here in the mud last May an rote you how Id escaped from the pearls of the sea, as the poets say, that Id ever sit here agen an rite you that I was comin home. I never menshuned this of course for fear it would worry you. Now that its all over tho its all right to talk about it. It wasnt that I was scared cause I guess you know that I was never scared of nothin. Nerveless. Thats me all over, Mable. But I used to think of how hard youd take it when you saw it in the papers, an how people would come an look at your house an shake there heads an walk away. Some of them would pull out a lace hankercheff out of there neck or sleeve or wherever you carry those things. Theyd touch up there eyes a bit an say "I knew him well," wether they did or not.

You know, Mable, that once or twice when I get lyin awake at night thinkin about all that stuff I came pretty near cryin myself it struck me as so sad. The one I liked to think of best tho was the minister sayin a few butiful words about me Sunday. All the people was turnin around to look at you. You were cryin quiet like an your mother was tryin to keep the tears from spottin the red Moroko himnal.

An here I am safe an sound without even a wound stripe. I feel the same way that I did when I came across on the boat without getting sunk. It aint fair to you somehow or other. I kind of cheated somehow, tho for the life of me I cant figer how. It makes me into a sort of a third cla.s.s crook but Im glad to be one.

Theres been an awful lot of talk in the papers an magazines about how were comin home changed men. I dont believe your goin to have any trouble recognizin me, Mable. Perhaps Ive gotten a little stouter. Thats about all. Even the Captin, whose been with me ever since we started, was sayin to me the other day "Smith, I cant see any difference in you since the first day you came into the army."

I got thinkin the other night what a lot of good yarns I had to spin when I got home. I was plannin on how people would probably ask me around to dinner sos I could amuse em with stories about the war. I happened to menshun it to Angus an he says yes an there was about two milyun others plannin the same thing. He says the stuff about the folks that stay at home sufferin the most was never truer than it is just now.

So Ive just sworn off talkin war when I get home. I aint never goin to get like that fello down in Henrys barber shop that just sits around all day tryin to get somebody to lissen to the Battle of Gethisburg.

I may have speshul occashuns when I let loose. Like once in a while when were sittin alone evenins in the little house with the green blinds that aint built yet. Then Ill get out the helmet that belonged to the red headed Fritz an the looger pistel an the irun crosses. Ill tell you how the big ones sounded when they went over the dug-out. Ill show you how Fritz says Kamarad. Ill tell you about bilets an mud an Top sargents an whiz bangs. Perhaps once a year, say Crismus or something, Ill tell about goin over the top. I got to get that out of my sistem once in a while.

The rest of the time Im goin to be just plain Mr. Bill Smith, docter or brick layer or lawyer or street car conductor-anything in fact that hasnt got any horses connected with it.

"IM GOING TO BE JUST PLAIN MR. BILL SMITH"

So good by for a while. The next time you here from me itll be the sc.r.a.pin of my hobnails on the front stoop. Then look out. Impulsive. Thats me all over, Mable.

Bill

THE END