War letter
Dear Father,
I hope this letter finds its way to you., I think often and fondly of you and mother. I am trying to keep my spirits up, but am afraid that I not quite the man I thought I was. I am trying to make you proud, but I can scarcely comprehend my surroundings and the reality of war. I have faith that you will keep this between us, as this will hurt mother if she finds out. This war is insane, I enlisted hoping to protect the family but have realised what a mistake I made. Nobody is safe, the things I have seen whilst at war have almost broken me. I honestly do not know how I am still alive. The monstrous anger of the guns killing so many of my friends has depressed me. So much blood, too much blood. The only sound I hear is the stuttering rapid rattle from the rifles and their wailing shells. It makes me jump every time I hear it. I cannot imagine the pain and grief the wives and family members of those who have been slaughtered by wailing shells are going through. Their pale faces and tears of sadness will only stop once we are at peace. Who will pray for them now? I wish them God-Speed on their spiritual journey.
I hope that this has found well and that you are safe at home. I know one day I will be returning home, alongside the doomed youth of Britain.
Pray for me Father,
Your loving son
I hope this letter finds its way to you., I think often and fondly of you and mother. I am trying to keep my spirits up, but am afraid that I not quite the man I thought I was. I am trying to make you proud, but I can scarcely comprehend my surroundings and the reality of war. I have faith that you will keep this between us, as this will hurt mother if she finds out. This war is insane, I enlisted hoping to protect the family but have realised what a mistake I made. Nobody is safe, the things I have seen whilst at war have almost broken me. I honestly do not know how I am still alive. The monstrous anger of the guns killing so many of my friends has depressed me. So much blood, too much blood. The only sound I hear is the stuttering rapid rattle from the rifles and their wailing shells. It makes me jump every time I hear it. I cannot imagine the pain and grief the wives and family members of those who have been slaughtered by wailing shells are going through. Their pale faces and tears of sadness will only stop once we are at peace. Who will pray for them now? I wish them God-Speed on their spiritual journey.
I hope that this has found well and that you are safe at home. I know one day I will be returning home, alongside the doomed youth of Britain.
Pray for me Father,
Your loving son