[Illustration: "THE FIRST THING HE DID WAS TO MIX POOR DEAR
GRANDFATHER A DRINK"]
_April 31st._ Have just come off guard duty and feel quite exhausted.
The guns are altogether too heavy. I can think of about five different
things I could remove from them without greatly decreasing their
utility. The first would be the barrel. The artist who drew the
picture in the last camp paper of Dawn appearing in the form of a
beautiful woman must have had more luck than I have ever had. I think
he would have been closer to the truth if he had put her in a speeding
automobile on its way home from a road house. It surely is a proof of
discipline to hear the mocking, silver-toned laughter of women ring
out in the night only ten feet away and not drop your gun and follow
it right through the barbed wire. After the war, I am going to buy
lots of barbed wire and cut it up into little bits just to relieve my
feelings.
Last night I had the fright of my life. Some one was fooling around
the fence in the darkness.
"Who's there?" I cried.
"Why, I'm Kaiser William," came the answer in a subdued voice.
"Well, I wish you'd go away, Kaiser William," said I nervously,
"you're busting the lights out of rule number six.
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