Cheating Death - Letters from a soldier in WW1

4th Letter

To: Daisy Walker                                                                                                                    14 Shelter Street

From: Shane Mc Clindon                                                                                                   Melbourne, Australia

Date: 9th October 1915

Dear Daisy,

I’m writing on behalf of Ollie, because he doesn’t want to tell his parents. Larry died last night. Ollie would like you to tell his parents, and I’d appreciate it if you’d comfort his sister and parents. He’s not taking it too well himself.

Larry was caught by a shell as it exploded. Shrapnel tore off half his face and a large bit went right through his stomach.

 We took him to the hospital ships but it was really all in vain. The best they could do for him was remove the shrapnel and then bandage him up. We got permission to stay with him that night...

He died peacefully Dais, I want you to tell his family that, ok? Despite his injury he could still talk, and he cracked jokes with us...

He died while Ollie was reading the letter they got from Annie. He was happy that he got to hear from his sister, he was happy that he had done his bit. He was at peace.

                                        

On another not, as much as it’s hard to believe, we’ve become pretty good friends with the Turks. They’re not such a bad bunch as we thought. We sometimes throw some bully beef tins over for them to try and they sometimes throw over their cigarettes and other things.

We all like to try out each other’s things, but the Turks don’t like the bully beef much. When we have the truce to gather and bury the dead we also trade items using sign-language.[1] There was even an old Turk called Ismail, he would come out of his trench every morning to gather firewood and the gifts we threw out for him and his friends too. [2]He would say thank you by salaaming and then get back into his trench. [3]

We never shot at him, not once. [4]But the poor man was killed one morning after a new lot came in. He may have been a Turk, but he was still a good man.[5]

I’m not sure if I even want to keep going now. We’re making friends just as fast we’re killing them. It doesn’t feel right to do that. I wish this blasted ordeal was over, it’s taken too many good people from our lives.

Miss you a great deal, send my condolences to Larry and Ollie’s family.

Love you always

Shane

[1] T Ornek + F Toker, Gallipoli: The front line experience, Currency Press 2005

[2] ibid

[3] ibid

[4] ibid

[5] ibid