Chapter XXXV: In Camp. England April 4, 1918

I got down here last night and reported back this morning. I found the General of my Division had already applied for me, so I am going back to my old Brigade at the beginning of this week—on the Sunday, I think. To-day is Wednesday, so I haven’t lost much time in getting into action. Probably I shall go up to London to-morrow for a two days’ leave and meet Eric.

There’s just a chance that Reggie may be with us as well, for I’ve sent him a telegram to say that I’m going to France.

And now, as you may imagine, I am at last happy and self-respecting. I’m going to be a part of the game again and not a pretence-soldier. What’s more, I’m going to go straight into a real battle—the biggest of the war. It’s really splendid and I feel childishly elated.

Well, I’ve had a run for my money if any man ever had. The good times in England, France, and America will be worth remembering when I’m again in the fighting. I contrast in my mind my present mood with that of the first time when I went out—I was very much afraid then; now I’m extraordinarily happy. I’ve learnt to appreciate the privilege of being in the glory and the heroism. I’m more pleased than if I had won a decoration, that my Colonel should have asked for my return at the first possible moment. It proves to me something which one often doubts—that I really am some good out there.

Keep your tails up, my dear ones, and don’t get worried. This line is only to let you know the good news.