Monday, Aug. 3, 1917

Dear Marie,

I guess you don’t really know me after all. When you were in my arms,
couldn’t you see in my eyes how much I care? How can I tell you in my
letters that I will always love you and make you feel that I am honest
and sincere? I have had lots of time for good sober thought, here, and I
know it is your high character

And big, warm heart that has won me so completely. There is not another
girl on the map that would make me look twice after knowing you so well.
Little girl, even if you go through High School and find out that you
can’t really love me, the influence you have had on me will have done
its work and I will never be able to pay the debt I owe. Don’t believe
all the good things that sister says of me. You know how it is. I didn’t
have any idea Blanche did not know how much we are to each other.

Marie, even if I can’t have you, I will always think of you as a big
warm hearted girl that understood, and trusted me so I couldn’t do very
wrong. I hope I can have your pictures soon. Here is a post card of the
Sixth Field Battalion on muster day. I am in the front rank with the
arrow at my feet. I am wearing leather leggings and the men on each side
have on

White leggings. Now can you find me? All the men in the picture are in
the 6^(th) FB S.C. Some are telegraph men, some are telephone, but Co. A
is all radio. We had quite an interesting period of radio practice this
afternoon. Within fifty feet of our station there was a class of
artillery officers with a big gun and range finding instruments. Last
week we saw the engineers build a pontoon bridge across the small lake
at the foot of our hill. I wish I could write to you oftener. Sunday

I worked all day from 6 o’clock AM til 6:45 PM and after I had scrubbed
my leggings and taken a shower, I felt so tired that I hit the hay.

We sure will hike together if you really like it, and I hope you will.
We had an inexperienced drill master this morning and he Dutched up
everything. He would give his command of execution on the wrong count

And then get sore because we got our feet all tangled up. Our regular
sergeant was taking a special examination for officers.

Last Saturday at retreat roll call he asked if anyone in the ranks knew
anything about the theory of gas engines. This stuff happens to be my
specialty so I had the privilege of explaining how gasoline is converted
into power in 2 and 4-cycle motors.

It was deep stuff but I got away with it OK. You see our wagon set
generator for the field wireless is run by a four-cylinder gas engine,
and that was part of his exam.

When you go back to school, will you write to me about your work and let
me help you! Well there goes tattoo, which mean “lights out.”

Yours,

Forrest

I see I am a month behind on my date.