To my big brother Noah,

Have you been to fight yet? I know how you used to love being a pretend soldier when you were over here. It has been ages since you left home to fight and I am now twelve. Mum says that by the time you come back I’ll probably be taller than her. If that means that you won’t come back for a long time, I’d rather stay short.

My teacher keeps on saying that you’ll be back in no time but you’re still away from me in the trenches. Dad also said that you would have won the war by Christmas but Christmas has flown by.

Mum said that all able men of England have to participate in the war. Why should you throw your life away just because a foreign Archduke wasn’t careful enough to not get himself killed? He wasn’t even heir to the throne of England! Do you remember when Auntie Violet died of meningitis? Nobody created a world war over that! She was very important to me. Now, because you are gone, I have nobody to play cards with except Alan but he works now.

Please come home. I’m waiting to play board games with you. Here, I’m sending a drawing of the family.

Your loving brother,

Lionel

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