This day I lost a valuable young friend. He was in the same company, and badly wounded in the knee, which I am afraid will finish his career of glory. Thus, since we started, Joe and myself have not received a single scratch, while the other two officers are both wounded. However, it is all a lottery. Maud had escaped until the other day. He was lucky having a horse to stop the force, or the ball would have riddled him. Our regiment has lost above twelve officers killed and wounded during this campaign (I mean the Battalion), which has been less than we ever before lost. We are now placed upon the French frontier in the Pyrenees. The enemy's army are opposite to us, upon a chain of mountains similar to those we occupy. Our sentries are within fifty yards of each other, and their main body opposite to where we are, about a mile off, so we can come to blows in half an hour whenever our great Commander may think fit to pit us, or in other words, slip us at them. Our cannon is now thundering at San Sebastian and Pamplona. Whether _Johnny_ will again raise the siege of these places, a few days will determine. We shall be in hot water until these places fall. I had a letter yesterday from Maud. He informs me that the wound he received is quite well, and he is ready for another affair. Joe is in high health. He is now very stout, and cultivating a pair of moustaches, which amuse me no little. I have been thinking of visiting you this winter after the campaign is over and we go into winter quarters. I could with a fair wind cross the Bay of Biscay in three or four days from this point. I could have leave when I choose. The expenses of travelling in England would fleece my pocket. There is also another consideration—plain clothes, which are very expensive, and I have nothing but my military attire, which would make the people gaze at me as upon a dancing bear. I must now conclude with my best wishes for your general happiness. My duty to my uncle, in which Joseph most heartily joins.—Yours ever, Geo. Simmons, Lt., 1st Batt., 95th Regt. Be careful and seal your letters. The last was open. Deserters inform us Soult means to attack us again in two or three days. When we get into winter quarters in two months' time or so, you may leave a note at the post office to inform me where you live in Hull; direct "Mr. Simmons" upon it. I hope you will not mention my coming to any one, as I want no acquaintances. You need not leave a note if the postmaster or man can give me the information, as you then may say you expect a person to see you about the time I have mentioned. As worldly views are so fleeting and uncertain, it is better for you not to make too sure of my coming, as it will increase the disappointment if any unforeseen accident prevents me.