Baghdad Feb 16 Darlingest Mother. Thank you so much for your wonderful letter. It was good that I didn't have to wait for it long after the telegram. I had been thinking and thinking of you with such anxiety and bad as it all is, your letter was comforting, because of your beautiful courage.
My mind has been so full of Hugo but the thing which comes uppermost is that he had a complete life. His perfect marriage and the joy of his children and then at the last his seeing you again - it was better so, wasn't it, if it had to be at all. I wonder if we should be happier too if we thought we were all to meet again. I never could bring myself to it even when I lost what was dearest to me. The spirit without the body would be as strange as the body without a spirit. One feels the lovely mind behind, but what one knows are the little gestures, the sweet smile, the expression of the mind. But it's no good wondering or thinking why one can't believe in the unBellievable; one just can't. People like Frances, who can, are enviable.

But doesn't one regret the carrying off of those who make happiness when there are so many that make none at all, for themselves or others. You said something like that about Will Pease and I feel it infinitely more about Hugo. His going breaks a circle which can't be mended and Will's wasn't really a circle; he was more like a good rock standing by itself.

Lionel and Iltyd have been so dear to me; Ken's away. One or other comes in nearly every day, and one can be alone too much, as well as not alone enough, so I have been very grateful. And then there has been plenty of work which is a great thing.

But I think [of] you always. Your loving daughter Gertrude