The Lincoln Times

India. Lieut. Col. Charles R. Williams, commanding officer of an unnamed base hospital, says that most of the mental cases are men who could not adjust themselves and who were worried about the troubles of their wives and families and sweethearts, their debts and their post-war prospects. He said they were apt to lose their grip on themselves when troubles from home were added to their present cares. Captain Scott of the same service said: "You can see a definite curve upward in morale when the men get letters of the right kind from home."

Nothing must be allowed to writing letters to our men—nothing! And if we love them—as we do—those letters must be cheerful ones.

A recent United Press report from "somewhere in India" takes to task the relatives of those who write "agony" letters to their men in the service. The report holds the writers of such letters largely responsible for the high ratio of mental cases among the soldiers in that particular theater of the war. And of course a condition which applies to one area will apply to them all.

Nostalgia—better known as homesickness—is one of those mental phenomena which are looked upon by those who have never suffered from it as a sort of mildly disagreeable sensation of short duration. In reality it is or can be so severe as to mentally unbalance the sufferer. Young boys and girls who leave home for the first time and go out to boarding school or to summer camp often have to be sent back because they are mentally and physically unable to withstand the misery of homesickness.

Different personalities are differently affected naturally by separation from home and from those they love. Most of them don't know what homesickness is and fortunately never learn. Others suffer so that they are sent to the sick wards and treated by those who understand their trouble, others simply collapse.

Sitting at home here we can't keep our men from being shot at, but we can help tremendously to ease the misery of homesickness and any man who has had a real dose of that ailment will tell you he would much rather be shot at.

The most important thing for us is to write, write, write. Write every day a few sentences and mail the letter at the end of the week. Write about the Joneses next door and about their Victory garden and about your own Victory garden and about the Joneses' boy getting into the navy and about how their pretty daughter is suspected of being engaged to the Smith kid who has just managed to squeeze into the army by stretching his age a little.

Write about the crops and how the corn didn't look very good at first because we got it in so late but how the last two weeks of growing weather has made up for a lot of lost time. Dwell lightly upon the fact that we missed the oat crop if we did—and stick to the good news if there is any and if there isn't then make up some or go out and dig it up. Even an occasional fib is permissible under such circumstances.