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My dearest Lucille,
With blood I write you the today letter and my each word
contains death. I hear the bombs of German artillery
falling and lead to the territory in a cloud of dust and noise.
Hidden in a hole that I made with my hands in the sap I try
to sleep in vain. Sleep doesn't find me. I remember one
German young man that I cut him the throat trying not to
conceive us to the enemies. This was first time that I saw
the eyes of my enemy. Gather that it existed mirror between
us. In his eyes I saw you. Who I wonder German girl has been
waiting for him in Germany? Who it will cry him? Ach, Lucilleā¦
I don't want to face the same destiny. I want to turn, ram myself
in your embrace.
Only your love I have you keep me live in a country of dead.
Yesterday, the situation was desperate; we waited for a German
assault in the dyke. Two residents from the village heard for
a potential German attack. It wetted that day and while we were
in alert, it remained no time for us to clean the trench from mud.
It stinks all the time. Finally, nothing happened. No Germans. I
tend to believe that the villages are too cautious.
One friend from Belgium that used to fight in the trenches in a
distance of forty kilometres from my own position reported to me
that it is tendency of villagers so to sleep in peace. This is what I
believe also. He was transfered here after the belgian forces
retreated and soon we became friends.
There are so many things to tell you but very little time to spare. I
barely have the strength to hold my pen. They don't feed us well
and many of us complaint for bigger rations.
Wait, I hear the sergeant waking up my comrades. In little, it will
be my line. From what I hear he orders them to take double
ammunition and lighter equipment. I fear. Here I put a full-stop
my love. Pray for me.
Always yours,
your Jacob
Post date: September the 22th 1918
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[edit on 17-3-2007 by Dragonlike]


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