Letters from a Soldier

Section 4

January 10, 1919
My Dearest Mary,
I am again in the town of Commercy, Meuse, after seven days leave at Aix-les-Bains of the Savoy leave area. Arrived here early this morning after thirty-six long tedious hours on a French train. If you want to get anywhere in France, walk, for it is always surer. I had nine letters waiting for me when I came in, three from you of December 3, 6, and 10. I was more than anxious to get some mail as it had been a week or ten days before I left since I had received any and of course I had none while away. The others were two from Mother, one from Clarence, two from Aunt Jess, and a Xmas card from Louise D.
I can tell how you feel about wishing for the companionship of a boy after my trip south. For there were numerous pretty, well-dressed girls in and about that town and often I wished I had a nice girl just to chum with again but I always think of you & how true and faithful you have been since we were together last and I always determine more strongly than ever to wait until the time we can again live those happy days. Many of the fellows did have French girls there but I was with Orvie S. and if there ever was a boy loyal to a girl, he surely is to Bernice. It is wonderful what strength of character you find in fellows you least expect it in. I am glad I can name Shoey as one of my friends.
Well, I must tell you more of our trip. Sunday we took a carriage (we means Shoey, 'Chub' Fraker, Carl Kiel, and myself -- I guess you know the other boys) to the gorges and after spending something like an hour there, taking in the beautiful sights that a place like that has, we came back by a road over a mountain. The view and scenery from this way was marvelous. Looking down on the valley in which the town is situated and then at the snow-capped hills all around. The hills and mountains are not all tall enough to be snowcapped all the year in this immediate vicinity, but it is only a short distance to where they are. Mt. Blanc is only thirty-five miles from Aix. I never saw any of our own wonderful Rockies so you can easily imagine how wonderful it all seemed to be, looking upon the sights in the French Alps.
Tuesday we did a little mountain climbing by the Cog railway route. Mt. Resard was the one explored. It has an elevation of something over five thousand feet and the trip up took about an hour and a half. It was real winter up there. The snow was drifted over the railroad about four feet deep on a switch that was not used. And cold; gee! But it made me think of Kansas on a blizzardy day. It was real clear and the view around was splendid. Old Mt. Blanc was plainly visible all day and it was a wonderful sight to see it shining and glistening in the distance. It really did not seem more than fifteen or twenty kilometers away. Then the other mountains about. Really I did not know we were in such a mountainous country until I got to a place where I could look out over them. We were only a short distance from Italy and Switzerland both. Two hours would put us in Geneva itself but of course our presence there is not desired right now.
Down the other side, just across Lake Bourget which is, by the way, the largest lake in France, we could see Hannibal's pass. You know more about Hannibal's crossing the Alps than I, I am sure, but it gave me quite a thrill to know that I was looking at a place so well known to all students of ancient history.
Over just beyond another range of mountains we could see the Rhone Valley and in one place the Rhone itself was shining in the sunlight. Well, after taking all this in, Shoey and I started in to enjoy some winter sports and coasting was fine, too. I looked like I had been rolled in a snowdrift after a few trips down the course. Then we tried the skis and, take it from me, that is real sport besides being wonderful exercise. I made it down the hill all right the first time without a tumble but I ran into a drift at the bottom and I went into it head first and after that, tumbles were in order for skis are wicked things for a beginner. We took our dinner at a hotel on the summit and after dinner we were skiing again. This was when I took a real fall. Shoey found a hill that beat them all for steepness and length so nothing would do but we should coast down it. Shoey started and about halfway down he took his fall. I could not see anything but a big cloud of snow where he hit. Well, I made a start and got off in bad shape. A little way down when I was going about sixty per minute, my feet flopped up, skis and all, and I went into the snow head first. Head first, too, for I had to dig snow out of my eyes and ears for five minutes. I guess it was a good show alright for Shoey laughs every time I mention it. After a few more slides, we went back to the little station and got back to our hotel in time for supper. It was indeed a strenuous day.
Wednesday we took a boat ride on the lake on the excursion boat Savoie used exclusively by the Y.M. for its parties. We got a closer view of Hannibal's pass and a glimpse of an old Roman road through the pass.
But the real part of the trip was the visit to Haute Combe Abbey, an old medieval (I can't spell that durned word) monastery that is now the private property of the King of Italy. It was built in 1157 & is a work of art that would please Aunt Carrie, beyond a doubt. The paintings on the walls were of marvelous beauty and one could spend hours studying them. Some of the ancestors of the present King of Italy are buried near the altar. I never remembered my history of Italy well enough to recall just who they were. Anyway, I feel that it is something to know I have seen a place of this sort. After a little cruise up the lake on our good ship Savoie, our excursion was ended as was also our stay at Aix-les-Bains for, when we got back to our hotel, we found we were due to leave at 7:30 that night. We were pretty gloomy over it for a while because, as Shoey said, we wanted more than ever to go home. It gave us a taste of real civilized life again and it was hard to leave.
I wished more than once you could have been with me for, with you there, it would have been fairyland. And the place seemed just made for lovers. It was my one real view of what France was like and will be like again, I am sure.
I have taken six rolls of film pictures of our trip. I hope they are successful so you can get a good idea what it was like from these pictures. Orvie had the Kodak but all we could buy was French film and I can't say how they will work in an Eastman Kodak.
I am sending you a bunch of postcard viewsthat I can tell you all about when you and I are sitting before the fireplace with nothing to hinder the conversation we like best. So, goodnight, dearest, the truest little sweetheart that ever a man had.
Your own Lloyd
P.S. A French one-franc note from the capital of the province of Savoy, Chambery. This is what we have to use for money. Excuse this bloomin' pencil, my pen is "fini."