Carry On: Letters in War-Time

At length when the war's at an end And we're just ourselves,--you and I, And we gather our lives up to mend, We, who've learned how to live and to die:

Things are growing deeper with me in all sorts of ways. Family affections stand out so desirably and vivid, like meadows green after rain. And religion means more. The love of a...

I've been in France 19 days, and it hasn't taken me long to go into action. Soon I shall be quite an old hand. I'm just back from 24 hours in the Observation Post, from which on...

You'll be pleased to hear that two days ago I was made Right Section Commander--which is fairly rapid promotion. It means a good deal more work and responsibility, but it gives...

One talks about splendour--but war isn't splendid except in the individual sense. A man by his own self-conquest can make it splendid for himself, but in the massed sense it's s...

When I was in London half my mind was at the Front; now that I'm back in the trenches half my mind is in London. I re-live our gay times together; I go to cosy little dinners; I...

Aren't the papers good reading now-a-days with nothing to record but success? It gives us hope that at last, anyway before the year is out, the war must end. As you know, I am a...