We are a rough lot out here, and washing and shaving are things of the
past. The roof we sleep under is large--the sky--and the rain comes
through very often. Our shirts we change when they wear out. You must
not worry too much if there are very long lapses between the letters,
as we can’t always write. It’s a game of dodging shells here. There is
one blessing: we get plenty of food, and they are looking after us the
best they can: _Sergt. Prout, South Wales Borderers_.