Wednesday, 3 December 2014

My version of a war letter

My dearest mother,

I send you this message, hoping that you are still alive to read it. I am still alive but I am not well. I don't think anyone in this war, fighting, is sane anymore. What I write next will scare you. On Christmas Day, I went up the ladder, out of the trench, and proposed a cease-fire. And by jolly, it worked!!! We played soccer with the Nazis. I met a lovely chap called Otto. I'm sure we could have been friends one day, but the dreaded war ruined that. For a minute, when I was playing soccer, I thought for a moment this would be what stopped the war. I think everyone else thought this too. But no, we heard shots being taken, so we quickly had to pack up and RUN. I love you so much Mum, and tell Nana and Grandad and Uncle ( if they are still alive) that I love them too. You must look after yourself. 
Don't worry about me.
I'm coming home.
One way or another.

Love from, 
Your beloved son,

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