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Base Hospital 47. A.P. D.909, A.E.7. October 26, 1918. My dear Mamma, Yesterday there was a letter from you written the day after I was wounded. You hadn't heard of it at the time, of course, [[strikethrough]] for [[/strikethrough]] but you must have got the news a day or two later, for the captain cabled to you about it. There was a letter from Jordan, back at the squadron, with a lot of news in it. He also told me about my baggage, which had been sent back to a depot for storage. I haven't quite given it up yet. Another pleasant surprise yesterday was the arrival of my uniform, ordered in Paris a month and a half ago. At that time the squadron had a three days' rest, and the captain, considering the fact that I had been working pretty hard and had been in France a year with no leave, gave me a pass for the three
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