DIY History | Transcribe | World War I Diaries and Letters | Conger Reynolds correspondence, April-December 1919 | 1919-06-25 Daphne Reynolds to Mary Goodenough Page 8

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Conger Reynolds correspondence, April-December 1919

1919-06-25 Daphne Reynolds to Mary Goodenough Page 8

dam site, so I don't know which I'll have yet.  It will be which ever I want, tho, you may be sure.
The men up here are a very interesting lot.  Almer Sanborn very like Sandy.  There is a Mr. Westlake - a red haired, bashful man of about forty, who is worried for fear I'll take cold in the draft and because I won't smoke his fat cigarettes.  He just gave me a pile of post cards from England to look at - camp pictures.  There is Mr. Frank - the one who got me the coffee; who insists on finding me the most comfortable chair in the room & who got me the only American chocolates I've had & sent them over with his compliments one night.  There is a Jew who looks like Ed Chilton, who sits on the corner of the table and talks about books and things unless Conger keeps him busy every minute.  He, too, offers me queer cigarettes in a hesitating sort of way.  They are very rare just now, the cigarettes, and anyone is practically offering you 50¢ if they offer you a cig.  There is Mr. Neese, who enlisted in the French army before we

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dam site, so I don't know which I'll have yet. It will be which ever I want, tho, you may be sure. The men up here are a very interesting lot. Almer Sanborn very like Sandy. There is a Mr. Westlake - a red haired, bashful man of about forty, who is worried for fear I'll take cold in the draft and because I won't smoke his fat cigarettes. He just gave me a pile of post cards from England to look at - camp pictures. There is Mr. Frank - the one who got me the coffee; who insists on finding me the most comfortable chair in the room & who got me the only American chocolates I've had & sent them over with his compliments one night. There is a Jew who looks like Ed Chilton, who sits on the corner of the table and talks about books and things unless Conger keeps him busy every minute. He, too, offers me queer cigarettes in a hesitating sort of way. They are very rare just now, the cigarettes, and anyone is practically offering you 50¢ if they offer you a cig. There is Mr. Neese, who enlisted in the French army before we