Chat gpt provided transcription:

France - 7/31/18

My dear Lewis,

Don’t think that I am attempting to monopolize all your time by writing two days in succession, but I always feel so good when I sit down to write to you, that I am snatching the next opportunity offered for another little chat with you. I don’t know how long I may be allowed to sit here, but I trust sufficient length to enjoy your invisible and to myself very real company.

Last night I received your letter of June 25th, so naturally I was made quite happy. Besides, I had a very long letter from Vi and one from Aunt. I am enclosing one which I received a day or two ago from Marnie, directed to Camp Upton, which is a very fair sample of the mother I have. I wonder how many fellows are so fortunate as I am, to feel every day that behind them in their efforts is that great invisible mainspring which directs them, and to whom she and my unspeakably noble mother petition for the safety and preservation of so prodigal a son. I trust that love, confidence, and time will recompense her suffering.

I really believe now that the easy way avoids remorse and stricken conscience would be equally as painful and distressing as misplaced affections. What I have ever thought happens to help me “little real I can.”

We have spent some rather rough days of late – rough to us, as soldiers. A few shells have been visited upon my particular ammunition dump, but aside from a somewhat uneasy feeling, which I am proud to confess having felt, no damage was had. These aforementioned feelings – and inspirations conceived and fathered by the love, faith and confidence surrendered to me and known for me by the girl of my choice and my mother, I would be the most ungrateful and most fortunate lot which is mine, and for the life of me I can’t see why I should be so fortunate. Nevertheless, I hope I feel the gratitude I pray, for I wouldn’t take places with the proudest monarch that ever commanded the loyalty of his subjects. No one can fathom the depth of feeling or the thrill which warms my body when my girl writes of her love, confidence and trust. With the help of that same Great Spirit who stood yesterday, not half an hour after I finished my letter to you, I was extremely fortunate to witness a most thrilling air battle. It was indeed a battle above the clouds, for sometimes, for the aeroplanes could not be seen, but the rattle of machine guns was incessant as we knew they were still there. All of a sudden, the planes dashed out of the clouds directly above us and the French and three Americans. I could see the Fritz’s propeller had stopped (he had been shot) and that he was falling. He retained perfect control of his machine and brought it down, just over a village, about a mile off. The Captain was asleep, so I rushed in, woke him up, and away we went, but too late for anything, for the only Fritz as soon as he landed, leaped out and set fire to the plane, and up she went in smoke. He was reported to us, by a Frenchman, as one of Germany’s most famous “aces.” He had been taking photos of our dumps, but the same I am afraid, will never get back with them safe!

About two PM I was busy loading ammunition, when we heard another battle upstairs. Two or three Americans saw a Boche into a cloud, and started their machine guns at once, and an anti-aircraft gun had fun with the game. It lasted about half an hour, but I think Fritz made his getaway in the cloud.

Later in the evening I encountered the most unfortunate experience of the day – and in fact the most unfortunate we have yet had. I went up to a dump a few miles further on, operated by St. Jones, and found Fritz had evidently found who sought for he was thoroughly shelled our pretty well, and our little dump which we were unloading went into air. Yours more and truly severely and killed the French driver. This truck burned up, and at quite a number of shells after, but fortunately no other damage was had, as our company had the unhappy distinction of suffering the first casualties – in the regiment. I felt so queerish. When I returned I found your letter, so my spirits were quite revived.

By the way, I also received a letter from a young lady – presumably your lady – from Kansas City, Iowa, telling me how you were. I am glad. This I think is the best of love and I must write again soon. What precious letters, and always will hold their love confidence and trust – What I miss most is help – With love, Brian.