340 Erie Street South
Leamington, ON,

Feb 1, 1916

Dear Mom and Dad,
Hello Mom and Dad, and hopefully, my brother; as the war rages on, I greatly miss your hugs, kisses, and comforting hands. While writing this letter to you, I miss you guys and my brother. How is he? Is he doing fine at school? At home? How are you guys? Has your health gotten better? Did the medicine work for Dad’s back pain? I wish I were there with you, but I must do this to protect my family and others. I am currently in the West Midlands of England.
<div style="height:9px"><div style="height:9px">Living in the trench is complex; the ground we sleep on is cold, and the weather sometimes is rainy and windy. The trenches are not comfortable as they are surrounded by sandbags to protect us from enemy bullets and to take cover. I see and hear the soldiers who suffered from diseases caused by the trenches’ unsanitary conditions- not to worry, I haven’t caught any. Most soldiers moan each night due to pain and trauma but still fight. The cans of food have mice lingering around them, and the food tastes bitter and cold. I miss the warm food you cook for my brother and me; I wish to be there with you. I am afraid to sleep each night as bombings and shootings can be heard in our trenches. I taste the powder from the barrel of my gun every day- I still hear my comrades scream in pain. I carry a pang of guilt, knowing that I somehow survived when thousands of soldiers, some of them helped me, died. But, despite all this, I am happy to be fighting with my comrades-happy to know that I am protecting people I care about. During sentry duties, even when I can feel fear, I look at the sunset and am reminded that everything will end the pain and the suffering. Every day I hesitate to step out of the bunker and face the day, but I remember you guys and have the courage again.

340 Erie Street South
Leamington, ON,

Feb 1, 1916

Dear Mom and Dad,
Hello Mom and Dad, and hopefully, my brother; as the war rages on, I greatly miss your hugs, kisses, and comforting hands. While writing this letter to you, I miss you guys and my brother. How is he? Is he doing fine at school? At home? How are you guys? Has your health gotten better? Did the medicine work for Dad’s back pain? I wish I were there with you, but I must do this to protect my family and others. I am currently in the West Midlands of England.
<div style="height:9px"><div style="height:9px">Living in the trench is complex; the ground we sleep on is cold, and the weather sometimes is rainy and windy. The trenches are not comfortable as they are surrounded by sandbags to protect us from enemy bullets and to take cover. I see and hear the soldiers who suffered from diseases caused by the trenches’ unsanitary conditions- not to worry, I haven’t caught any. Most soldiers moan each night due to pain and trauma but still fight. The cans of food have mice lingering around them, and the food tastes bitter and cold. I miss the warm food you cook for my brother and me; I wish to be there with you. I am afraid to sleep each night as bombings and shootings can be heard in our trenches. I taste the powder from the barrel of my gun every day- I still hear my comrades scream in pain. I carry a pang of guilt, knowing that I somehow survived when thousands of soldiers, some of them helped me, died. But, despite all this, I am happy to be fighting with my comrades-happy to know that I am protecting people I care about. During sentry duties, even when I can feel fear, I look at the sunset and am reminded that everything will end the pain and the suffering. Every day I hesitate to step out of the bunker and face the day, but I remember you guys and have the courage again.

Close