So, here we are. After trudging through muddy fields, littered with land mines, crawling throung barbed wire entrenchments, with hellish dangers like mortars, grenades and poisoned gas, watching your mates go 'over the hill' or worse, wondering when that whistling bullet will strike. Not knowing if tomorrow will arrive, missing your wife and children, and or parents. All for what was it 12 and 6 a week. You are given this sheet where even your coat is itemised and costed.
6th November 1918
My grandfather, Francis Orlando Thompson, born in St Mary's, Isles of Scilly of stirling stuff, a heart of gentleness, yet a firm rock.
