March 14, 1919

Nice is a fine place. The Riviera is well named the world’s playground. Monaco, Menton, Nice, Cannes and other well-known names. A clear, sunny sky, balmy air and the blue, blue Mediterranean. An international affair and a wonderful one.

But let me tell you how I came here. There is a photo unit covering leave areas and touring from one to the next. They wired in for some material which, of course, had to be convoyed down. The man who makes these assignments is a friend of mine and got me orders to come. That was mid-afternoon, Wednesday. By nine that night I was safely ensconced in the aisle of a second class coach where everyone could walk on me.

It was a great trip and I shall not attempt to tell you all of it now. From Paris to Marseilles is 850 kilometers and from Marseilles to Nice, 400. The whole is not far from 800 miles. It took 25 ½ hours.

I got here at 10:45 last night. By the time the military red tape was finished and I’d found a hotel it was getting to be midnight. I had a splendid bed and room, and after a bad night and wearisome day in the train, I was able to appreciate them. I did this morning, when I set forth to find the Lt. in charge of the photo unit.

I spent all of this morning there and finally moved down to his hotel. There is a complication now in regard to the material sent him which may keep me here till Tuesday. You can imagine how worried I am. If it straightens out, I shall leave here either tomorrow night or Sunday night. It depends on a telegram from Paris.

After four months in the A.E.F. a soldier is entitled to a leave. It means 7 full days at one of the leave center (traveling time not included in the 7 days) and all expenses paid. It is a fine thing; the only drawback is that you may not choose your place but must go where you’re sent. Nice is a center, and it is full of soldiers – Americans, French, British, Italian, Belgian, Czecho-Slovak. And I can think of no better place to spend a week or a few months.

Next post March 15.