My name is Mary Blake. I am the sister that Tom spoke of, maybe he did or maybe he didn't. He was always strange speaking about me. You called him by his last name, Blake, but I only ever knew my brother as Tom. He spoke of you to me in his letters, the tall soldier who had transferred into the regiment and he immediately knew that he wanted to be the one friend you chose to have. He said that you were a quiet, soft-spoken man who took too much on his shoulders. From your letter, I can see what he meant.
It's a war, William Schofield, men are expected to not come home. Yes, my family and I wanted Blake to come home, side by side with Joseph, but we knew that we would be one of the lucky ones if they both came home to us safely. You said you did everything you could for Tommy. My family believes your words to be sincere. I also know from Blake's letters that you would not be able to handle lying to us when we are already down. Do not take the blame for a German soldier's actions. Do not blame the war on yourself and do not blame the death of good soldiers on you. It's the war's fault and it is the men in their tiny London offices not knowing what goes on in France who are at fault. Not the soldiers that are fighting for them. If we want someone to blame, I will blame those men in their tiny offices or the Germans who are too greedy for their own good, not the soldier that stayed by my brother's side.
I was going to respond, then I wasn't going to respond, my mother said that you probably had a family of your own to write to, so I am not expecting a reply, but I wanted to thank you for writing us. Officers came to our house and told us nothing of what happened other than he was brave and his mission was completed by the accompanying soldier. They were cold as my father held my mother, the both of them crying. I will tell you that I did not cry. I don't think it's really struck me that my brother is actually gone. I've convinced myself he's just busy with the war and that's why he won't speak to me anymore. We got his medal, as you said we would. We will hang yours next to his, to remind us of the soldier who kept my brother company. We couldn't have a funeral for him because they didn't have his body for us, but you have taken care of that as it seems. I thank you for telling us that you placed him somewhere that's similar to home. I thank you for returning his letters and his rings as well. It gave us more closure than you can assume. We have been reading one a night, to keep him alive in our family. I believe that you are a kind man, William Scofield. Do not let the war ruin that for you. Keep that kindness.
Don't be humble about all you did. You were in the paper this morning. It was a headline that stuck out and when I read it, they said some Lance Corporal from the 8th saved sixteen hundred men's lives. William, that is something you don't have to be humble about. They're calling your run across the front line, the Schofield Run, at least the soldiers are. They've written to the papers about it. They're saying you need a new title, that a Lance Corporal is too low a position for someone like you. I know nothing about ranks, but I do know that you're braver than most men. Maybe stupider too, but mostly brave and loyal. You told Tom you'd find Joseph and you did.
My brother Joseph also wrote to us, something you probably did not know. He said that you were half-dead on your feet and you searched for Joseph to give Tom's items to him. You sought out Joseph instead of getting the medical attention that you were told to seek out. My mother cried when she found out someone that was as kind as you almost died to get to my older brother. My dad was ready to kill you himself since he thought you were dead from Joseph's letter. I thank you for that. It gave us comfort to know that at least one soldier in France will be keeping Tom's memory alive. Yes, one. Joseph is coming home. He hasn't said why, but I believe that his brother being dead has affected him more greatly than he lets on.
My mother is over my shoulder, reading what I am writing to you now. She wants me to pass on the message that if you ever want to write, you are welcome to. We only have one family member in the war now and Joseph was never a writer, not like Tom. He's also coming home so he won't need to write all the time. If you'd like you can just write my mother, her name is Jane Blake at the same address that is on the return address of this letter.
Take care of yourself, William Schofield, stay alive for your family.
