I have received another NZ mail up to May 17. First from Gorrie 5-5-18. He then evidently had no idea Vic was in the South Pacific, because he was wondering how long it would be before one of us came home to liven Dad up and prevent him interrupting an argument by falling asleep in his chair. The next from you Thursday announces Vic in the stream and a P.S. Friday saying he’s home. You don’t mention how you got to know he was on board, whether you weren’t just a little surprised to find him 13,000 miles from where you thought he was. You seem to take it very much as a matter of course. I daresay you wouldn’t be a bit surprised to find me and a kit bag blow along in a taxithe day after you receive this. Perhaps a letter in between the two is missing.
If Vic comes back, he’s a bigger mug than Roy. Roy couldn’t be expected to know better, but Vic could. Bill Massey is at present spouting to the rest of the camp in the Y.M.C.A. but I am hut orderly for the day, so I am denied the sunshine of his smile. There is a movement on foot for everyone to say “Some say ‘Good old Bill’; but we say ‘—- him'”. I don’t think they will though. The NZers are a very wishy-washy crowd when it comes to resisting authority, – not nearly as dare devil as Aussies or Jocks.
You musn’t expect me home before till war ends, or a year later. The only quick way home is to pass thro’ France and get a foot off on the way, and I have decided that while the climate there continues so unhealthy, the longest way round is the safest way home. In fact I have practically made up my mind not to go back to France any more. I am sorry if it means prolonging or losing the war, but it can’t be helped. I intend to study my personal inclination a little.
Mac has started trench fevering. I got a letter from him yesterday. He is in a Con camp which I am pretty sure is at Trouville near Le Havre. He is in 73rd Hosp. which I also think is near there. He ought to be safe for duration now if he uses his head.