“Jambon!”
We sleep fourteen in a tent, which is a bit crowded, but we are not in it long enough to notice it. Fourteen of us washed in two quarts of water this morning! So we have plenty of ink, and some of us haven’t changed our clothes for five or six weeks. We have two rather queer pets here: two little pigs, who run about among the horses, and are quite friendly with them, and eat their corn as well. As one of the fellows said, pork (or, as the french call it, jambon) tastes very nice boiled, so they may be, before very long, in the casualty list as missing or prisoners of war: Lance-Corpl. Forward, Army Service Corps.
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