[3 January 1917]
papers about the Roast Beef we had last night. A whole joint cooked in the little earth oven we have above. And I am not exaggerating bit I have not eaten a better if as good, cooked by Anne or I think anyone else. Baldwin, our cook, is a great wonder. You have a sketch of him by now. He is singing now:
“Right on my mothers knee
“She thinks the world of me”
As the the 2nd line I agree with her but wouldn’t care for his great bulk on my knee.
I dont think I have eaten as good dinners at any of our various lodgings. I dont really. Such desolation, now that I come to think of it, when I was in OP yesterday