I heard that we lost a lot of men last week. It was in an attack where the British thought they had the upper hand but the Germans had them beat. I'm hoping you weren't there. I've looked at the casualty list every day and I've yet to see a William Schofield, so I have hope that you are still alive, but it's waning. It's leaving me every day that you do not write.
Joseph left for France this morning. It was quick, nothing like the first time. We said a quick goodbye and he was on the train for France within five minutes. My mother refused to go to the station, she's afraid of everything these days. Joseph told me he would ask around for you, but I believe that he won't find much about you. So, please write to me. I can't eat or sleep knowing that you may be dead and I won't ever know. Joseph said that if he found you alive, he'd wring your neck for not writing to me. I decided that if maybe I wrote before Joseph even got to France, you may have more of a chance to write, but I was so caught up with the orchard, it slipped my mind.
I have absolutely not helped my family these past days. I'm so terrified that I'll never hear from you again. I've sat in the orchard from sunrise to sundown, watching as the mailman drives by our house, not stopping at our mailbox. I'm losing hope, William, I feel it slipping like it did when Tom was with you. I'm losing hope that you'll ever write me and I'm losing hope that you're even still alive. Though, I do hope that you are alive and just not responding. I'm hoping you're just never going to respond again for that's better than knowing that you are dead.
Joseph told me that the army would send back my letters if you were dead, but how would they know if you died while in the middle on the German front line? He said they would know, he wouldn't tell me how, but they said they would be sure that you are dead before they told any of your family. I pray for your safe return to them every night. Please, William, come home.
I've had more than enough time to think about the idea of how I can help the war efforts more. I've decided that I'll train to become a nurse. My friends have done it and they said if I wish, I could request a hospital here in England. That way, my mother and father wouldn't worry about me, but I'd still be helping sometimes. I may not help the soldiers, but those bystanders being bombed need help too. If I do train, it does mean I have to move to London, but I wouldn't mind. It's a dream of mine, isn't it? Chase your dreams. That's why Tom always told me. I'm chasing mine, since he can't anymore.
William, I don't beg, but I'm begging you now. Please, write to me. Tell me that you're alright. Tell me that you're alive. Tell me to fuck off. Anything, I'm begging you to write to me.
