I am quite well and safe at present. We are having it rather quiet out here. The Germans are all
down on their luck. The poor beggars are half starved and I can tell you it is getting rather cold out here just now.
That makes it worse, as we don't get feather beds to lay upon. We sleep in holes dug out on the road side in banks and
under shelter of the trees with our clothes and boots on. I have not had a good nights sleep since I left, and we
don't know what it is to take our boots off.
It takes nine or ten days for your letters to reach us. I like yours and the baby's photograph very much and I keep taking it out of my pocket every chance I get to have a look at our darling boy. I am looking forward to the time to nurse him again and very shortly too, as this affair can't last a month longer. It is getting nearer towards peace every day, and the sooner the better, as I am longing for a change of food.Don't be suprised if you see me eat extraordinarily when I arrive home - which I hope to, with Gods help.
This was the last letter home to his wife at 35 New Road, a few days later she recieved one from the War Office advising her of her husbands death December 1914
(See Roll of Honour)