BRUSSELS, August 17, 1914.
[DEAREST:]
Write me soon and often! All is well here so long as I
know you are all right, so do not fail to tell me all, and
keep me in touch. If I do not write much it is because
letters do not get through always, and are read. But you know
I love you, and you know twice each day I pray for you and
wish for you all the time. I feel as though I had been gone a
month. Gerald Morgan and I got in last night; this is a
splendid new hotel; for $2.50 I get a room and bath like yours
on the "royal suite," only bigger. This morning
the minister did everything he could for us. There are
about twenty Americans who want credentials. They say they
will take no Americans, but to our minister they said they
would make exception in favor of three, so I guess the three
will be John McCutcheon, Palmer and myself. John and I, if
anyone gets a pass, are sure. With the passes we had, Gerald
and I started out in a yellow motor, covered with flags of the
Allies, and saw a great deal. How I wished you were with me,
you would so have loved it. The country is absolutely
beautiful. We were stopped every quarter mile to show our
passes and we got a working idea of how it will be. Tonight I
dined with Mr. Whitlock, the minister, and John McCutcheon
came in and Irving Cobb. John and I will get together and go
out. All you need is a motor car and you can go pretty much
everywhere,
except near where there is fighting. So what
I
am to do to earn my wages I don't know. I am now going to bed
and I send my darlin' all love. Today I sent you a wire. If
it got to you let me know. Take such good care of yourself.
Remember me to Louise, and,
write me. All love,
dear,
dear one. My wife and my sweetheart.
Your husband,
RICHARD.
The following is the last letter that got through.
