Dearest Arfa

You must burn this letter right away for there is rather an epidemic of this Spanish flu as they call it - very like the old kind but much more sudden and over more quickly. There are thirty five men down with it and two of the sisters so we all expect to have our share. So burn this letter for they say it is very infectious and I don't want to pass it on to you. I feel quite fit so far and may not take it at all for I don't catch things like that very easily. I'm touching wood. It has just been on for the last two days and it was rather funny when Sister Pa[?]t and I went into our ward this morning counting casualties. There were eleven of them and all feeling very sorry for themselves - it made eleven less beds to make which was a comfort.

Mrs. Mc Gibbon had come back this morning to do her morning's work much to the indignation of everyone, but the matron insisted. We were all rather [?] for when Mrs. Mc Gibbon told the matron her husband had come and asked for leave matron said she could go off for the evening and was gracious enough to offer a late pass!! I don't know what Mrs. Mc Gibbon told her but anyway she didn't come back till this morning. We nearly died when we heard about it. Just funny!

There was a dinner at the Bungalow last night and is really wonderful how the men can get about. Mostly you don't dare to guide them in the least but occasionally they pocket their pride and allow us to steer them clear of trouble. We have one man, a Yankee who came over with the Canadians who is rather the terror of everyone. He is like a lamb sometimes and will take help from anyone but at sudden unexpected moments he will simply swear and look as if he intended to kill you if you offer the least assistance. His one and only quotation is "And the man worth while is the man who can smile when everything goes dead wrong". He thinks he is living up to it but I sometimes think it is quite as well he can't see his own face. Now I must close dear heart. Your loving little pal Alice Leighton.