" July, 1916. As I think I told you yesterday,
my address is now B.E.F., France. A more complete contrast to my recent quarters it is difficult to imagine. We mess in a corner of an Immense flamboyant ohfite.au, in whose ostensive' grounds I am now writing. We are far from the sound of guns. We live on the fat of the land. We can go for -week-ends to the neighbouring towns. Yesterday I went to a place called —. I suppose I mustn't say, but it is on a river whose name you will have seen in the papers lately, and has a small Cathedral, quite a lot of goodish shops, cafés, and two passable hotels. I got a pair of breeches, a walking-stick, a haircut, some books, and had a Cassis-Vermouth ' before and a battle of Mercury at dinner, in memory of Faucogney. I also met an Oxford Don named —, who is Military Chaplain there and was dining at the 'Hetet Tete de Beeuf.' I don't know bow long I shall be here, but it will probably be three or four weeks. The course will probably Ire highly irritating; but I confess that after the last few weeks I don't think I shall complain."
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