As well as knowing that I’m providing for the soldiers and contributing to the war effort, it’s providing us with an income. The children miss you dearly, but you have no need to worry about them, we’re all getting by just fine.
I’m so proud of you Harold, and not a day goes by when I don’t think about you. The children send their love; we look forward to seeing you very soon.
Winnie
July 21st 1916
Dear Winifred,
I don’t mean to worry you too much my darling but in a matter of days I will be going ‘over the top’ to engage in battle against the raging Germans. It’s quite a big step to take and I will not deny that I am afraid, but it’s what has to be done, and we must face it.
As you know, God has put me in this position. This is what he wants, so it is my duty as a soldier to fight. After all, that’s why I came here in the first place. I will get through this, and I will return home with stories to tell you and the children.
I think about you all the time, I do not want to lose you. That is why I am afraid to go over the top; I know there is no guarantee that I will survive, no more than anyone else and that frightens me. The thought of you having to cope on your own with the children petrifies me and that thought is making me even more determined to succeed. I’m not trying to worry you Winnie, I just want you yo know how I feel.
We will succeed. Good will prevail over those evil Germans, don’t you worry. Remember, in life or death I’ll always be with you.
Love always
Harold
October 30th 1916
Dear Harold,
I’m writing this letter in the hope that you will be alive to receive it. I can’t help thinking that you are no longer with us and that you may have unjustly killed by one of those evil, wrongdoing Germans. It hurt me so much reading your last letter, knowing how afraid you were and knowing that I couldn’t reassure you because I knew that everything you were saying was true; there was no guarantee that you, or anyone else in your position, despite your innocence, would survive.
It’s tearing me apart not knowing if you’re still alive. You may already have heard, but you school friend George was killed. His wife Heather came round to tell me. She’s changed so much, when George went away she was proud that he was fighting against evil, and she believed the war was the right thing. But now she seems like a completely different person, she has nothing nice to say about anyone. She wants this all to be over and she wants her husband back. She calls it “the murderous war”. It’s amazing how quickly people can change. I don’t want that to happen to me.
All’s well with my job and the children are doing fine. I haven’t told them about the battle you were going in to, I didn’t want to worry them. I pray every night that you’ll live to see the end of this.
All my love
Winnie
May 3rd 1917
Dear Winifred,
You have no need to worry I am very much alive, although I don’t see why. I look around me; men are dying or just lay there helplessly suffering from shell shock. I think to myself how unfair this is, why am I still alive? The sufferers don’t deserve any of this, no more than I do. We came here under the same circumstances, with the same aims and goals, yet they die or get wounded while I still stand here. It’s only a matter of time before it gets me too.
I know I should be thankful that I’m still alive, but I don’t see it like that; it’s unfair. Victims are chosen at random, struck down with no warning. They don’t deserve it. I feel so guilty looking down at them when I’m perfectly fine. I hate it.
My friend Percy, who has stuck by me throughout our time here, has gone. He’s not dead, but he might as well be. He’s a victim of shell shock. We used to be so close, but now he just stares at me, unable to talk, unable to even think for himself. He sometimes even looks evil, smiling at me with a demonic grin. I can’t stand it any longer. I might as well be dead.
I may return home, I may not. But one thing is certain; thing will never be the same again.
Harold
November 18th 1917
Dear Diary,
I’ve lost him. His mind has gone. I can’t bear to hear the way he speaks; so thoughtlessly. This war is unfair; I know that as well as anyone but there is no need for him to be so negative about everything. He’s lucky to be alive, he’s come this far, he can make it to the end, I know it.
He feels lonely and misses his family and normality. I can see that, but there’s nothing anybody can do. He’s seen the true horrors of war and it has done him no good at all. Getting so close to all these men out there and then watching them slowly slip away must be terrifying; he knows he could be next.
There is not much further to go now I can feel it. Maybe when he returns things will be different. I sincerely hope so.
Winnie