France,
23 May 1917.

Dear Ones All,

This is May’s birth-day, isn’t it? Many happy returns May Dear, and many, many thanks for the fruit cakes which arrived yesterday. They will come in very conveniently for afternoon tea. You think I am joking but honest to goodness during the past year and a half that I have been in England I have come to regard tea at "hawf- awftah-foah" as just as essential to the day’s doings as my breakfast. Out here Duncan and I entertain a great deal in the afternoons as our hut is easily the brightest, best decorated and most comfortable in the camp and we usually serve tea in here instead of going to the mess.

Thanks also for the handkerchiefs, Dear People, which also reached me yesterday and you Father for your dear birthday letter, also Will for the two little yarns. I love the one about the man at the hotel who insisted on having his room changed.

(Part of Letter eliminated by Censor)

I had no sleep at all last night for some reason and had to get up at 3.15 A.M. to lead a dawn reconnaissance over to Hunland. Haven’t been able to get to sleep since coming back either so am feeling very cross and stupid. I hope to go on leave in about two weeks from this coming Sunday and that is the only thing that keeps me in any sort of humour at all.

Best love to you all, Yours as always,
Eric.