“…I can read her moods by her letters…”
Miss Millie Dobbs, France, June 19, 1918
25 Howland Ave., Toronto, Ont., Canada
…You were asking me if I thought it wise to keep (name withheld) in ignorance of what we are doing. Possibly, from your point of view and hers also, I’m not wise, but knowing our position over here as I do, I don’t think there’s any harm. I’ll try and explain. My one and only reason for not telling her is to keep her from worrying and I know she does worry even over what little she knows. I’ve got so that I can read her moods by her letters. She understands of course, that one is not absolutely safe anywhere in this bally country and as a rule we aren’t up around the line very much where most of the “fireworks” are and not in real danger as we would be up there. Occasionally we have taken a trip up and of course had to take our chances with the rest. I have always told her of these trips but of course have made as little of them as possible so she won’t worry her head off. I can’t explain the situation by writing as I could if I was talking to you, but putting it all in a nutshell—if we can carry on to the end in the same manner that we have so far, we have a thousand-to-one chance of getting home again O.K. so why bother her about the few times that we do get mixed in it.
You say if you were in her position you would prefer to know. Granted, but what good would it do you and see the anxious days it would save. No, I think it’s better as I’ve left it.
Today was to have been a big sports tournament and as per usual it rained “like the dickens,” the first rain we’ve had in over two months. I’m convinced that when we want rain in future all we’ll have to do is arrange for some pleasure and we’ll get the rain…
We had a rehearsal this morning and it certainly makes some band (four in one). This includes Bob Ford’s band which is in our brigade.
Later: Since writing the above have had supper, played at a movie show in the Y.M.C.A. hut and another concert after, so I’m nearly ready for “the hay” now. It doesn’t get dark until about ten o’clock and we can see to play right till bedtime.
Well Old Girl it’s about time to put the lights out.
Trust you are in the best of health and spirits. This leaves me fine.
Bye for now. Yours ever, Garn xxxx
Selection from the letter collection of Sergeant Dobbs, to his sister Millie and his brother Walter
George Metcalf Archival Collection
© Canadian War Museum