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Letter Home from the Trenches.

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Letter Home from the Trenches My dearest mother, It's now been three months since I left home to take my part in this awful war. I'm writing this letter from a miserable cold trench in the middle of France. I think the place is called Ypres. I cannot explain to you how much I am missing home, you and the rest of my dear family. I miss walking around our town, walking down to the bakers to get our bread each morning. I miss the delightful smell which I used to love and now I cannot stop thinking about it. Oh how I long to be home. I miss looking out of my bedroom window in the morning looking at the scruffy sheep in the field next door. I remember the days when we used to go for a walk through the fields, breathing in the clean pure air; it's a pity the same can not be said here with the disgusting smell and sight of decaying and rotting bodies. Since I have been in France I have not been in combat, all the time. For a month and a half I was involved in basic training. We have all been getting our frayed, threadbare clothing and equipment ready. Our combat skills such as using a bayonet have improved tremendously. On the journey across to France I became extremely nervous and apprehensive about the job that lay ahead of me as did most of the other lads with me. ...read more.


Whilst marching to the trenches I had made friends with a man called Tom Finnely. He had ginger hair and wore a shiny silver chain round his neck which contained an embroidered message. He often explained to me that this tag was for luck. Just as we had settled down in the trench the German's opened fire on us. I can recall thinking thanks for the welcome. We retaliated straight away and I think back how excited I felt when I pulled the trigger of my rifle for the first time. This fire fight lasted for days; however it often dulled at night to give us some rest. While in battle Tom and I stuck together until one day he was brutally mowed down by the side of me whilst we were advancing to the next trench. I did not realise until afterwards when I saw him lying in the middle of "no mans zone," covered in bullet holes. His head was sliced open. My emotions at that point were full of complete sadness. It made me reflect how much my life means to me and just how easily that man lying there could have been me. I felt so sorry for his wife who Tom had told me all about. However, my view point changed the night Tom died. It was a dark and wet night when myself and three comrades went out into the "no mans" zone to drag Tom's body into our trench. ...read more.


I am healthy apart from a problem with my feet. The doctors think I have a mild case of trench foot, another day could have made me lose them. I have heard men screaming and crying when the swelling has gone down from their feet. Luckily for me, the worst of it is over. At one point I could not feel my feet at all, you could have stabbed a knife into them and I would not have felt it. Any way I have recovered good enough now. Everyone seems to be suffering with some disease or another. Enough about me for now, are you all right? Is the town still the same? I can not wait to be home seeing the beautiful countryside and our house. I am praying that the war is over quickly so I can see you soon. I know I have been selfish not writing to you as often as I should have. As you can tell though, I have been very busy. From now on I will try to write to you every two weeks if possible. I have just been told whilst writing this letter that we are going to be moving on to more trenches to fight so much for the break in action promised to us. This could last anything from weeks, maybe even months. This will mean that I wont be home for Christmas. Give all my love to our relatives, I will thinking of you. Hope you receive this letter All my love and I miss all the family so much Peter ...read more.

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