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Letters Winnie and Horrold

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April 19th 1915 Dear Winifred, Writing this letter is harder than you can imagine. I wish I could tell you how I'm feeling rather than having to put it all down on paper. Being away from you and the children is the hardest thing I've ever had to do, I miss you all so much. But I know that what I'm doing is right my country needs me. I'm going to fight on to the end and make you proud of me. When I return you will able to tell the children that their Daddy was a war hero. I'm still in the trenches, waiting for orders to go over the top and attack. I feel honoured to be in this position, despite the pain of being away from home. I'm proud to be fighting in a war with such purpose; we will break down the Germans and emerge victorious. Conditions in these trenches are fairly poor; very cramped and not very hygienic. But I'm not complaining, we won't be here for much longer. The war will be over by Christmas, and then I will return home to you and the children. ...read more.


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. ...read more.


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 ...read more.

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