The two Americans who left us in Lyon have spent three weeks in the trenches. We met them here during their rest which lasts eight days. They have returned to the trenches. The loss of life in the trenches has been reduced to a minimum. There is a constant rifle and cannon fire, but little damage is done while the men remain in the trenches. I miss all of my folks and often think of New York. I am carrying a talisman in the form of a Yale key which belongs to the front door of our apartment. I have become attached to it and would feel its loss keenly. On the brace supporting the teeth is the word “Security.” A person with a lively imagination might find some hidden meaning in this. Our sailor Pavelka formerly entertained us every night with tales of his trip on the good ship _Dirigo_ from Seattle to England via Cape Horn. Jack London made the same voyage on its previous trip. It took our sailor one hundred and fifty-nine days to make the trip. After supper when stories are being exchanged he usually starts with, “Now, fellows, when I was on the _Dirigo_ off——” He only gets that far now, because, like most sailors, he is very voluble and his tales of the sea have become monotonous. However, we are a very congenial quartette and get along well together. Dad says he has a complete map of France, giving small villages, but we are not allowed to tell our location. Dad was always good at puzzles: does he remember this one? Boston Orleans Utopia Zion Yapank ... Does he get me?[1] Footnote 1: The name of the place indicated by this puzzle is, Bouzy. We take long marches. The roads are excellent and have a complete system of direction signs. Just after we started on one of these hikes I saw a sign reading “Rheims 24 Kilometres.” As a kilometre is five-eighths of a mile, this was the equivalent of fifteen miles. _Somewhere in France (Bouzy), February 28, 1915._ Things are about the same here; the weather is mild and we are having less rain. Ploughing is almost finished and planting will soon begin. From the outskirts of this place to the summit of the mountain (about three miles) the ground rises in a gentle slope which is completely covered by vineyards. It is a great wine country and from the heights a wonderful view is obtained of this extensive and fertile valley. If Mr. Shortt’s son is anxious to join the war, he can do so easily. I would advise him to hurry up; by that I do not mean that the war will soon be over; I know absolutely nothing about that. If he is not ready to secure passage immediately, he can slip over on a horse boat, as I learn they are still importing horses. It is a matter of choice which Regiment he joins, the First or Second. The Second contains the most Americans and it recruits through Paris; my Regiment recruits through the southern ports.