24. 6. 1918.
My dear Mother,
Many thanks for your telegram. I got across all right yesterday without incident, except that I broke a bottle of hair oil in my saddle bag with the result that I could hardly sleep on account of the smell of cantharides on my py-jamas, & as I stayed in the club & occupied a cubicle in a long room, I cannot have been altogether popular with the rest of the inhabitants.
I am going back to the old crowd & set off on my travels to find them to-morrow at 6.30 a.m. Beyond the fact that they are not where I expected them to be, I have no idea where they are and do not know if they are in the line or in rest. However I suppose I shall know to-morrow afternoon.
Love from Jack.