Letter from the trenches, circa 1917

I'm dying to see you, my dears, We'll dance again around the maypole come next spring. We'll hold hands and sing on Mayday. I love you, don't ever forget it. Give mummy a kiss from me.

I saw two butterflies playing in the air this morning. I thought of you two. With God's speed I'll be home soon.

Take care and be sure,