In our trenches on the Aisne after a hard fight we found one of the
Gloucesters with an unfinished letter in his hand. It was written to
his wife and little girl. It spoke hopefully of the future, and said,
“Tell Annie I will be home in time to make her Christmas tree.” He
never got further, for a German shell had laid him out: _A Seaforth
Highlander_.
Loot!
The looting has been awful; beautiful homes broken up, and articles
of clothing, household linen, pictures, and furniture smashed to
atoms and trodden under foot. They took away the wines, for on our
advance up country the numerous German camps were strewn with bottles,
articles of equipment, and other things too numerous to mention. They
leave their killed by the side of the roads, and in the streets of
villages--anywhere, in fact: _Sergt.-Major H. Attree, 18th Hussars_.