My dear Mother
It seems useless to wait any longer for tidings of what will be done with regard to Christmas leave. I do not think that there will be any general scheme; that is the impression abroad. However, I am having a try on my own account: I have put in an application for a special 72 hour pass on the score of the distance I have to go. I rather doubt whether it will be granted. Most likely if there is no definite arrangement for granting leave there will be a special order forbidding the grant of three-day passes during the Christmas season. I will write as soon as I know whether I can get away or not. I do hope I shall be able to do so; it would be tremendously jolly.
The men who have been away trench digging at Braintree return here tomorrow. They have had a very poor time there, I understand. Twelve hours digging a day in the filthiest of weather on the luvinest of soil. This is a very short letter for I have to go in a minute to post tonight’s stable picquet.
Much love from
Your affectionate son