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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2207005
Rated: E · Fiction · Death · #2207005
A Letter Home - Bard's Hall
22nd December 1915

My Dearest Mildred,

If you are reading this you will know I did not make it. When they told us where we were going we knew that most of us would not be coming back. I hoped I would be one of the lucky ones but it appears I was wrong.

So much for the war being over before Christmas. The Hun are getting further each day. This won't be the only Christmas we'll have to spend appart. We were ordered to write these letters just incase ... well, you know. I'm sat in the NAAFI right now, with a steaming mug of cocoa. I'm looking at that photo of us and the kids we had taken last summer. It was freezing in Bridlington in September but somehow we managed to have fun. Do you remember us eating fish and chips in that shelter on the prom? It was pissing down but we never noticed.

I'm wearing the St. Christopher you gave me when I joined up. I had hoped it would keep me safe. I can still feel your arms around me as you fastened it around my neck. Then you kissed me; a great big juicy smacker. I can still taste you. I guess we will never know those kisses again.

When they bring me, or what's left of me, home, I want you to promise that you will bury me next to Mum. No flowers, I always thought they were a waste. There's nothing more depressing than a load of dead flowers on a grave.

Don't let the kids forget me will you. I know that one day you will marry again and they will have a new dad but you make sure they know about their real dad and how he gave his life for his country.

Forever Yours,

Sid xxxxx

*


23rd December 1915

Dear Mrs. Arbuthnot,

I am sorry to inform you that your husband, Pte. S. Arbuthnot, is missing in action.

Yours Sincerely,

Major Parry-Jones

*


24th December 1915

My Dearest Mildred,

Someone else is writing this because I can't use my right hand (I left it on the battlefield). I'm going to be okay, so don't worry. At least I'll get a Christmas dinner in the hospital, even if it is froggie cooking. Do they do turkey?

Tell Father Christmas to give the kids the biggest of hugs from me. I don't know when I'll be back in Blighty but at least I'll be home for good.

All my love,

Sid

XXXXXX
© Copyright 2019 Odessa Molinari smiling (omstar at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2207005