Thanksgiving Day, yesterday, was somewhat unlike the conventional celebration. I spent the day very quietly. The noon dinner with “C” Company of the Twenty-third was remarkable for the abundance and quality of its menu—roast chicken, potatoes, onions and radishes, coffee and milk; and for dessert, jelly tarts and canned peaches. And still they talk of the hardships of army life! Of course we will make up for the feast by weeks of extra plain living. The Government makes no special provision for Thanksgiving and
Christmas dinners. In the afternoon I slept until Knapp wandered in about four, and after a good long chat we went out to dinner at the English Hotel. Knapp had to return to his troop a little after eight. It is perhaps a little hard to remember the true meaning of the day out here—not because we lack causes for thankfulness, but rather because the environment is not associated with Thanksgiving.

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