My dearest Winnifred, I miss your smiling face. It feels like it was yesterday when I asked you to marry me, that could just be because it was the next day that they threw me into this hell-hole calling itself war. This is my second time in the reserve trench, the one where I can rest, the safest place for me to be writing this. Next week I’m in the fighting trench. It’s horrible here Wendy, there’s so much sickness with a heavy scent of death. I saw John again, do you remember John? He was the boy your sister used to watch while his parents were at work. I watched that boy die last week while bringing supplies to him. It was quick, luckily. I fought the rats off him for the first few hours but I needed to return to my trench, to safety. I’m