5th Letter (End)

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To: Daisy Walker                                                                                                                    14 Shelter Street

From: Shane Mc Clindon                                                                                                   Melbourne, Australia

Date: 9th December 1915

 

DAISY! We’re getting out of here!

We were told yesterday that we are going to be evacuated soon![1] Everyone is so relieved and happy that we get to leave now. George, Ollie and Joe are all alright, but they might not be writing home around now because they’ve been busy getting ready to leave. (I have too, but they have promised to try.)

Though everyone is extremely happy, no one looks as they were before the war, not even me. It’s depressing to see the faces of so many men who came to war, like me, looking for adventure - happy and healthy - and then leaving it, much older than they should be.[2]

Our cheeks are hollowed out now, our eyes are sunken in and dark.[3] Our bodies have wasted away and are thin enough to count our ribs.[4] It’s a wonder sometimes that we can even pick up our guns and use them.

We are cheating death, but only just. [5]

A few days ago, I came across an unusual sight while we were collecting the dead. [6]I went over to inspect it and found a pair of ladies gloves and baby boots in the remains of a soldiers pack which had been blasted apart.[7] In the middle of this bloody, death filled battlefield, they looked so out of place.[8] I felt quite saddened from seeing this. Some poor family back in Australia were attentively waiting for the one they loved to come back, but now he never would.

I am so blessed to be able to have come this far. I’ve survived the war to this point, and have managed to only get minimal wounds, frostbite and illnesses. I mourn for the men who are dyeing as we speak, just before we are getting evacuated. Though childish this line might be, I can’t help but think that life is not fair.

Tell Ma and Pa the news. Hoping to see you before we are shipped off to somewhere else. (Still have the hanky you made for me – even if it is a bit dirty)

Love you still, and always will,

Shane

[1] Herald Sun, Wednesday April 20, 2005 Page 5

[2] T Ornek + F Toker, Gallipoli: The front line experience, Currency Press 2005

[3] ibid

[4] ibid

[5] ibid

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