I wouldn’t be surprised to hear of you coming over here as a nurse or something. Nice country, nice war. I wouldn’t be back in the States having meatless, wheatless, boozeless, smokeless days for anything. I am a Sergeant now. I spend my time working at Regimental Headquarters while we are in reserve, and in training and when we are in action I am an Observer in the Regimental Intelligence Section--very amusing work. I had a fine time during the recent activities of our regiment, activities of which you probably read in the papers. In the dug-out I wrote a poem I think you’ll like--“Rouge Bouquet” is its name. I expect to remain a Sergeant (unless I’m reduced), for to get a commission I’d have to leave the Regiment and go to a training school for several months and then I would be sent to some regiment other than this. And I’d rather be a sergeant in the 69th than a lieutenant in any other outfit. Give my love to anybody you meet who would appreciate that commodity. And write often to Yours, JOYCE. * * * * * _To Howard W. Cook_ Headquarters Company, 165th Infantry, A. E. F., France. June 28, 1918. Dear Mr. Cook: Your letter of May 31 has just arrived. I am afraid that such information as I can send you will reach you too late to be of use, but anyway I’ll do what I can. You ask first for biographical details. All this material you will find in Who’s Who in America, except the information that I am the father of four children, named respectively Kenton Sinclair, Deborah Clanton, Michael Barry and Christopher. Second, you ask for comments on myself and something about my earlier efforts in poetry. That’s harder to answer. How can I make comments on myself? I’ll pass up that part of the questionnaire, if I may, but I’m willing to write about my earlier efforts in poetry. They were utterly worthless, that is, all of them which preceded a poem called “Pennies” which you will find in my book “Trees and Other Poems.” I want all my poems written before that to be forgotten--they were only the exercises of an amateur, imitations, useful only as technical training. If what I nowadays write is considered poetry, then I became a poet in November, 1913.