May 7, 1919

This week has turned out to be a wonderful, warm, sunny affair. It is almost too fine to stay indoors and most of the bunch, accordingly, goes out. Not so little Willie. He has begun to do movie titles now, on the order of the Intelligence Department. Does he cavil and cuss, object and obstreparate about it? Nope. He wants to get on to this movie stuff. It’s just one more field of work, one more possibility stowed away for future reference. Is he right, do you think?

Within two months from this date the Photo Lab. at Vincennes will pass into the state of “Do You Remember?” This announcement, repeated twice in the last 5 days is as definite and reliable as anything in the army can be. So you may calculate that about five weeks after you get this letter I shall be packing my barracks bag. I don’t want to be glad too soon or I’d jump around and spoil something. But it does seem true.

As the time approaches so do the reproaches. It is rather painful to think of the dead now. It hurts, too, to realize that we have been pampered in Paris while thousands suffered in the field. When you stop to think of it, I’ve been unusually fortunate for a soldier. And when I stop to think of it, this Vincennes guerre has been pretty enjoyable. If anyone ever pats my head and says: “My poor lad, this must have been a terrible war for you,” I’ll never again be able to hold up my head, for shame.

Since the last letter I have done nothing. Monday night Frank and I wandered around in Paris from sunset till about 10:30. The boulevards are marvelous in the spring. There is something vernal about the cold iron lampposts and something verdant in the ancient gray sidewalks. We sat down at a café and had a glass of beer. The tables are out in front of the café, on the sidewalk, so one may sit and watch the passer-by. We did. That was all.

Last night I went to Bellamys’ where I am invited to spend the day Sunday. They accuse me of declining all their all-day invitations, so I guess I’ll have to accept this one.

Tonight I’m going to movies. There is a Pathe picture called “J’accuse” which, M. and Mme. B. tell, is the best thing Pathe ever did. The first episode is shown near here tonight, so Bill, Frank and I are going.

Next post May 10.