There was a chap of the Berkshires who, like many more of us, had
’listed after a row with his girl. At the crossing of the Aisne he got
hit, and he had just breath enough to tell me the name of the girl, and
ask me to write to her. “Tell her,” he said, “I’m sorry we had that
row, but it was for the best, for if we hadn’t had it I should not have
been able to do my bit for my country. It seems awfully hard that I can
never see her again to explain things to her, but I’m sure she will
think better of me now than if I had been one of the stay-at-homes.
Good-bye, old chap; there’ll be no more cold nights in the trenches for
me, anyhow”: _A Private of the Leicestershire Regiment_.