But Sebastian isn’t the only bird I got to watch now Al because last night they sprung a new one on me and he just come into the camp yesterday and the man that was sleeping on the other side of me is sick in the infirmiary so they stuck this new one in his bunk and now I got them on both sides and I don’t know which is the worst Nick or him because this one wispers all night and it would be O.K. if he was wispering in his sleep or wispering to himself but he isn’t.

I didn’t turn in till 11 and Nick was buzzing away like a saw buck and I figured on getting some sleep myself but I hadn’t no sooner layed down when the wispering begun on the other side.  First I didn’t catch what he was trying to get at but I heard him the second time all right and he says “Do you want me to kill?” Well Al for 2 or 3 minutes I couldn’t get enough strenth up to turn over and look at him but the next time he repeated it over again I couldn’t stand it no more so I said “Are you talking to me?” And what do you think he said Al?  He says “I am talking to God.”

Well Al the connection couldn’t of been very good you might say because he kept asking the same question over and over and not getting no answer but how was I to know when the party at the other end would speak up and maybe say yes and they wasn’t nobody closer to him then me for him to work on so you can see what a fine nights rest I got Al and this A.M.  I told Shorty Lahey about him and sure enough Al the bird is a gun man named Tom the Trigger and Shorty says he is a nut that thinks he is aces up with the all mighty and some times he imagines that they are telling him to go ahead and shoot and then he takes aim at whoever is handy.

Well Al this was inspections day and everybody was supposed to have a clean shave and their hair brushed and all their buttons sowed on and their beds made up neat and their shoes and mess kits shinned bright and etc. and Capt.  Nash and the lieuts. give us all the double O and some of the boys got a nice little baling out for the way they looked but I looked like a soldier ought to look Al and didn’t give them no chance to ball me out.

But what difference is it going to make Al for me to look good and have things neat when I am sleeping between a man that if he can ever stay awake till I doze off he will dig a trench system in my chest with a stilleto and on the other side of me they’s a bird that the minute the lord says Fire he will make me look like a soup strainer.  It don’t hardly seem like its worth while to be strick about looks when sooner or later they are bound to muss me and my bed both up.

Your pal, jack.

[Illustration]

Camp Grant, Oct. 3.