One of the letters is from a lady who signs Thirza Ellaline de Jones, and is addressed to my regimental number only.
"Dear Nº...," it runs, "if, as I suppose, you are a lonely soldier, I wish to inform you that I am willing to offer you my friendship, for I am myself a lonely maiden. I often think how awful it must be for you to have nobody to think of, and that in your murderous business you are never relieved by that wonderful thought: 'It is for her that I do all these sanguinary deeds.'
"I am of a romantic, passionate nature, and I am sure you ought to like exchanging ideas with me. My character is rather pessimistic, having thoroughly read Shopenower (sic!), yet I feel sure I could cheer you up. Besides, I think that our acquaintance, started under the fire of the guns, could after the war lead to a more pleasant union. I am scarcely of middle age, but I look much younger than I am, and I feel younger still. I do not enclose my photo, for I think that men who have gone through the serious business of war are not concerned with trifles. But I may add this: The war will not finish before every man is disabled. You will then be entitled to a pension. If it pleases you, you may now add to this the amount of my private income which is of £140 a year.
"Answer by return, and you will be a dear.
"Yours ever,
"Thirza Ellaline de Jones."
The letter is typewritten, and the traces of wax on the back show that it is reproduced from a stencil. What a mania!
The second letter is from a firm, Levy and Levy, who offer the highest prices for souvenirs, especially for German helmets.
And the third one is from home.