Journal

I have seen and been through more than I can handle. It’s too much. I think of my beautiful wife and two children every single day. I always wonder what they are doing, what they are eating, what they are thinking of. Are they thinking of me? I know they are safe, but at times they have no idea where I am, dear or alive. I’ve heard stories of families back home who receive news of their dead family members in war and end up going mad or killing themselves. I don’t want to put my family, through that.

Everyday I see men die cruel, horrible deaths.  Their bloody bodies left lying on the ground. They all had a family, people who cared for them and loved ones. But now, they have nothing. They are gone. Their families will receive the news and end up living a life of sorrow.

This is harder on me than I would have thought. I know all the men here are feeling it to, but nobody wants to show it. They are all wishing they had never come here, or that it ends soon. You can tell when some men have given up.

It’s been two weeks since I last wrote to my wife. Only two weeks, but I feel like it’s been forever.

Not only do I have to live without seeing my family, but also I think I’m falling ill. This morning my temperature was fairly high, my nose was runny and my eyes and skin was itchy. I’ve seen some soldiers go through similar symptoms. It’s mostly caused by the mustard gas.

One of my mates, Charlie, recently died. He was a victim of the terrible mustard gas that the German troops fired. Luckily I wasn’t there when the explosive hit. I heard, from some other soldiers who just returned from the hospital, that he was in a terrible condition. He was bleeding internally and externally and was struggling to breathe.

I’m terrible worried, I might be affected badly. I’m hoping this sickness would pass quickly. An awfully worrying thing it is.

I ought to get some sleep.

Christopher Blackstone

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