My dear Glad,
Many thanks for both your letters describing Ireland & Dublin. I would have written before only I didn’t know where you were. For all I know you were S. Fing with Waalum in the Dublin Post Office & doing a little shooting on your own or on the other hand you might both have been in prison. More unlikely things have happened. I was sorry to hear you thought Father looked ill. The break must have been a great shock to him & he has been carrying on as usual ever since. I hope this P. L. business did him good, as though it is rather rotten to be openly attacked by blighters of the Foster type, it was rather a triumph for Father & the enemy were badly routed. I am very flourishing. They roused us from our normal torpor about a fortnight ago by gassing us, as you may have heard, but it didn’t do them any good & they are very piano at the moment & daren’t show themselves, as if they do we snipe them instantly. Incidentally I fancy I milder sort of bosch has come in opposite us & all he wants is to be left alone. They are supposed to be Saxons, but we haven’t yet secured a specimen to see Anyhow they carry on like Saxons
Rather curiously the fellow who commands the Battalion that relieves us is a Nigerian. He used to be in command of the native troops round Naraguta & he mentioned the Cocks names, as though he knew them. He liked the place very much & wants to go back to it.
Remember me to Lillie & other Aunts Uncles & Cousins, whom you may see.
love from Jack.