My darling Grace, I have elected to keep this journal of my time fighting for King & Country, which I hope shall be short. Although they tell me it’s against regulations, I believe most of the lads are doing something similar. At least they cannot censor this record as they do our letters home.

My love, my heart aches to be away from you but I know you understand I could not in good conscience stay out of this War any longer. I can use my talents to greater purpose in France than I ever could at home. They need men to dig trenches to protect ourselves and our comrades, and tunnels and mines toward the enemy.

We are still in Wiltshire, digging practice trenches in glorious sunshine and rising out to charge at the enemy arrayed before us. For the time being we are making do with broom handles as our rifles and bayonets have not yet arrived. The sacks of flour we are treating as our foes are getting a veritable beating.

The men appear decent and are of one mind to doing our duty. I shall be proud to fight alongside them when that time comes. Our battalion commander Captain Dean looks a good chap too, a regular in the Army with much experience. He’s taken us new bugs under his wing and is preparing us for the front.

They say we will ship out soon, rumours say before the end of the month. I hope this is true, otherwise it might be over before we even arrive!