Letters from WW1

The letter from a soldier in the western front to his wife in California, and her reply.

My dear Christine,

I know I promised. I am aware of the fact that I swore to you that I would be back soon, and be back an unchanged man. However, I think that I will not be able to keep this promise. I will be back, that is for sure. But the other part, of me remaining unchanged, well that’s the part I am worried about. I just got here, one week to be precise, but I already hate it. I live in a trench, with too many other men, bad food, and the constant sound of bombing and machine guns thundering in no man’s land above us. I hate to admit it, but I am scared. I’m scared for my innocence, the one I was not aware I had before getting here, scared for my life, for my fellow soldier’s life, for the stretcher bearer’s life, for you, for America, and for every single person that could ever have anything to do with this war. I thought I was prepared. I thought I was tough enough to come and go, few impacts on me, no problem at all. I thought I was the man I was, the man you fell in love with, the man everyone back in California knows. And I wish I could say that I still am, but that is not true. I cry in the morning and at night. Cry for us, for me, for humanity, for our tiny tiny soon to be born baby. It is the strangest feeling. To feel a small drop of water run down my dry and dirty cheek. I love you Christie. I can’t begin to say how much I miss you; your lovely lavender small, your pastel colored dresses, your delicious cherry pies, the comfort of our bed, our bathroom, our home. Right now, I am crying. It is about ten in the morning. A time where few shells explode, few sounds are heard, and few people are around. I am sitting on a piece of an empty food crate, a small wrinkled paper and a pen in my hand thinking about you. Yesterday one of the men from our company was killed by one of the shells. It was the first time we went over. The feeling, I can’t describe. I never thought I could be so frightened of anything before. The commander yelled, we jumped out of our trench and ran for our lives, shouts of anger coming from all our throats as if something had possessed us. We ran and ran until we could no more, the dark smoky atmosphere blocking our view, just shooting. Suddenly a cry of pain came from behind me. I turned around and saw Sam, the youngest in our company lying on the floor grunting in pain. I remember the order we are always given. Never leave a man behind. I thanked the lord for the chance to go back to the safe trench, only now realizing that it was greedy, but the fear taking over me. I run to Sam, and grab him by the shoulders. You can’t imagine how hard it was to drag one man seventy yards back to the trenches, going over the uneven land, the small, dead, tree stumps, and throwing him inside the trench. Then I jumped in and was taken aback to see the many injured bodies of men from my company, my friends, bleeding and being attended to by nurses that now seemed immune to sadness of it all. But I’m okay, I survived. I have to go now, m beautiful Christie, but remember my promise. I will be back to see our lovely son or daughter growing up. The war will be over by Christmas. Have a pie ready, because any day now I will be next to you, hugging you and helping you out, enjoying the perfect life we will lead when I get back. Be strong for me, Christie, I love you, and I will be back soon.

Lots of love,

Ralph (the husband that will be back)



My dear Ralph,

You don’t know how glad I was to hear from you. To sort through the mail, and find a small letter mailed from France. I cry too, you know. I cried as soon as I saw the envelope, I cried for hours after I read your letter. You are the man I fell in love with, the man we all know you are. I try to understand your pain, to be happy for you, to be strong for you. I made the pie. I will make one every day, and you can dream that you are eating it. Being here, at home, in our new victory garden, watching my belly grow little by little. I will never stop thinking that you are the best man in the world, that you are the man I’m supposed to be with. Crying does not take anything away from you, being scared, not at all. I love you Ralph. You know it, and you know that I am waiting for you. Any day you come home, I will be ready to receive you, my arms open and a freshly backed pie waiting in the kitchen window. Be strong, my love, and let the feelings come. I thank god that you are still with me after that first race against death. You saved man! You saved yourself, and you saved me. America is waiting for you, praying for you, sending you love and strength. You are my man; you will always be, no matter what. I will be here, always. Home is sad without you, but I can’t say I have nothing do all day. I have joined an organization. I work every day during the week. I know you will be worried about the baby, but this job is in a nice house that serves as the headquarters for a fundraising organization here. I sit with other women and we draw posters, count money, and fill out paper work. I miss you so much, and I feel like I need to help so I am doing this to help. On top of that I planted a victory garden, we all did. The whole town is now being run by women, it is different and fun in a way, but we want our men back. I went to the doctor yesterday to check the baby and he said it was a boy. We are having a son! I want you to pick the name. The crumpled letter you wrote, the small handwriting you have, it all made me laugh and cry. If I could I would send a care package with good food, clean uniforms, and a perfume I would. Ralph, I feel as proud of you as I could ever be, I think that even if you do come back home changed, I will just be glad you are back with me. I have to go because I need to take the pie out of the oven. Write back as soon as you can my dear Ralph, because seeing the small, tear stained paper you sent me makes my day. I love you, I am here for you, supporting you, being strong, the baby and me, we both send you lots of love and kisses. We think about you day and night, and I promise I will cry will with you in the morning and at night.

All our love,

Christine and your son (waiting for you with a pie)