22 November 1914
What soldiers are now calling the Battle of Ypres is finally over. We have come to a peace due to the harsh upcoming winter. I am relieved. The Germans are moving their focus to Russia and the Eastern Front.
Ned's body was never recovered. Richard is taking his death hard. They were good friends, as I understand, and it pains me to see his grief. Jacob is quiet about his own grief, but I can tell that he is still far from recovering, and rightly so. I cannot imagine coming home to find my family killed in an attack, and I suppose it would be my choice to fight those who killed them.
25 November 1914
Henry, I am so sorry to hear about your friend Ned. I don't know how you manage to bear everything you have seen. You say you enjoy it, but I think I should hate it there. I suppose I'm only going to make you feel worse by saying so. But don't blame yourself, brother. Keep yourself safe. I love you.
I am grateful that the battle is over, though my worry has not gone away. I have found a job at a munitions factory, for as much as I wish to stay away from the war, it is becoming quite inevitable and we are in need of the money. Such jobs have only recently become open to women, as so many positions are left open by men who became soldiers.
Love,
Elizabeth
17 December 1914
Dearest Henry,
I wish you a happy Christmas, though England is in an uproar to-day due to a shocking event yesterday. Round eight in the morning North Yorkshire was attacked by German bomb-shells, killing at least a hundred people and injuring many others. It is the first time the Central Powers have attacked the British mainland, though I fear not the last. How long shall it be before such attacks reach us in Kent? I hated the idea of your going to war, but it seems that we who remain at home are also in danger. I fear for our country and for you. The war was predicted to be over quickly, but it seems it will not be so. Stay safe, brother.
Elizabeth
20 December 1914
Elizabeth and the newspapers have informed me that the English mainland has been bombed. This ought to make me believe that our job here is all the more important, and that it is our duty to defeat the Germans. But I have heard the generals discussing their plans to retaliate in the same way, sending bombs of our own to attack German civilians. We are no better than they.
I feel a bit guilty for lying to Elizabeth. I have told her that I enjoy life as a soldier, for she was the one who warned me of the dangers, and I know that she would worry if she knew the truth.
25 December 1914 —Christmas
An unofficial Christmas truce was declared today. A group of German soldiers approached us and wished us a happy Christmas in English and French. We at first feared a trap, but after finding them unarmed we met them and joined in a holiday celebration consisting of the exchange of food, drink and cigarettes, as well as caroling. Several men even played a game of football. It was unlike anything I had ever seen: men once ready to fight and kill one another, drinking and singing and rejoicing as though at a Christmas party at home.
Jacob and Richard refused to take part in any celebration with the Germans; the one, I am sure, thinking of his family, and the other of his friend. I was hesitant at first, but as the day went on I joined the celebrating soldiers in their drinking, smoking and singing.
I hope that Elizabeth and my parents are having a happy Christmas. I miss Elizabeth more than ever.
27 December 1914
We have returned to battle as though the Christmas truce never happened. I found myself shooting at men's legs, sparing them deliberately, having not the heart to kill those with whom I celebrated earlier. Jacob had no trouble.
I am finding it harder to see the German soldiers as enemies, even as they fight and kill us. I know not to speak of it to Jacob or Richard, as they will hear none of it. I wish I had never come here.
5 January 1915
I write by the light of the kerosene lamp. I awoke several minutes ago screaming from a nightmare in which Jacob, Ned, Richard and Elizabeth were shot and killed before my eyes. It was in horrific detail, now that I have seen so many die in such circumstances. Jacob was woken by my shouting and calmed me down.
In my early days as a soldier I found comfort in sleep and the night. Those days are past. I am plagued by nightmares and insomnia nearly every night. There is no escaping the shots, blood and death.
16 January 1915
We were startled awake just now by the sounds of shells being let off by the Germans, presumably to further mar the battlefield. The noise was sudden and awful, though not uncommon to us.
Jacob awoke at the explosions and flew into a terrified frenzy, and I remembered that his parents and sisters were killed in the same way. He was gasping and sobbing in a way I had never imagined of him, crying Mother and Father, then Anna and Ruthie, I presume the names of his sisters. I did not know how to console him as we huddled in the barracks to wait out the attack. He is quiet now, but I do not think either of us shall sleep.
20 January 1915
Dearest Henry,
The state of the homefront is more fearsome every day. Yesterday Great Yarmouth and Kings Lynn were attacked, this time by Zeppelin airships flying overhead. It is only a matter of time before the ships and the bombs come here.
And if it is not enough to hear of the attacks, I am contributing to further attacks as I work in the munitions factory. The ladies there are quite kind, but it sickens me that we are ready to inflict the same horrors upon others that we are receiving. You would tell me that such talk is wicked, because the Germans are the enemy. I do not know what to think.
Elizabeth
8 February 1915
Dearest Henry,
German U-boats are creating a blockade off the coast of Cornwall. The majority of food import has been stopped, and we are in danger of famine. We shall have to farm with the few workers left in England.
The women in the munitions factory have christened themselves Munitionettes. We have become a part of the war effort at home, but for many of us it is more than that. My factory has formed a football team, and though I am not a member it is entertaining to see the practices and tournaments they have set up with other factories. Some even raise money to help wounded soldiers, to which I contribute.
Despite the work we perform there and the conditions of our workplace, I enjoy the time I spend with my fellow Munitionettes. I do not know your opinion of the events, but I suppose as we are the ones at home we ought to take charge of those positions left behind by you soldiers.
Love,
Elizabeth
11 February 1915
I fear for Elizabeth back in what we now call the homefront. News of more attacks are coming, this time closer to Kent. The Germans are also forming a blockade to prevent food import. Elizabeth wanted me to stay at home to escape the war, but even she cannot now. She has joined a munitions factory, as have many other girls and women at home. They are helping the war effort even from England.
1 March 1915
It is Elizabeth's sixteenth birthday. She is becoming a woman, and I am not at home to see her do so. Perhaps I never shall be. I miss her so much that it pains my heart. The fact that she is so young—though not so young now—and she is involved in the war and helping to make the weapons is a shock to me. And beyond that, she and other women at home are working and taking charge of such practices I never supposed suitable for women, but it seems they are managing it quite well.
20 March 1915
Today I found myself in a state where I felt unable to bear the weight of everything I have done and all the lives I have taken in the past few months. "I don't know how I ever wanted this," I said to Jacob after another day of battle, of killing and feeling the horrible guilt of doing so.
"Fighting for England, remember?" said Jacob.
I shook my head. "I see less and less difference between England and Germany every day."
Jacob's eyes narrowed. "I stand by what I said," he said firmly. "They deserve to die."
"Then so do we." Jacob stared at me in shock as I continued. "We've killed, we've attacked them with rifle, machine gun, shell. We've bombed their cities as they have ours. Whatever they've done, they are no more monstrous than we are."
"They killed my family," spat Jacob through clenched teeth. His breathing had become heavy and his eyes flashed in indignation.
"And we have broken many a family," I retorted, my voice rising to match his. "They are no different from you or me. They are men—fathers, sons, husbands, brothers, friends."
Jacob stood silently for a long time, then turned away. I reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off and left the trench.
I fear I have made him question far more than I should have. I should not spread such ideas, but it is becoming more and more clear to me that we are all merely human, no matter on what side of the war we fight on; each no more noble or monstrous than the others.