10pm.

Tonight they confirmed we will go ‘over the top’ tomorrow at dawn. For the past two weeks we found out nothing but rumour and speculation, with tales as varied as the men who repeat them. If we ever asked the officers, they said nothing but that we should carry on with our tasks as usual, this despite the obvious and constant stream of reinforcements and supplies pouring into the village.

Messages come and go by rider and pigeon at all hours; us mere Tommies do not know what they say but even the least observant of us can tell something is afoot when double the number of couriers are scurrying about at haste.

God willing it will be better than that accursed raid in May. Our artillery has been firing without pause for a week; day and night our dugouts shiver with the sounds of bombardment. They tell us this will cut the Hun’s wire and their machine-gun posts cannot survive such a barrage. On both counts I have my reservations. I feel the best hope comes from the mines laid beneath their trenches. When they go up, we shall see a nice space in the lines through which to march! Harry and I have that role, as our spot on the fire-step aligns with our buried bomb. We can at least be confident any German mining is not so close to ours that we might have a surprise of our own in the morning.

We know our duty. We raised a toast at dinner to The King, and we all cheered his health. I hope he did the same for us.

3am

None can sleep. I wrote a letter to you, my darling, by candlelight, and pray it finds you safe. I could tell nothing there about what we face tomorrow for the censors would never allow it. But if something should happen, I trust these journals will illuminate my final days and prove my heart and thoughts were always with you, my love.

5am

Breakfast was a solemn affair. Not a one of us didn’t reflect on the knowledge it would be the final meal for many of our number, though none dared speak this thought aloud. Now we wait; some men are feigning sleep to put on a show of the bravery they do not feel, others are writing a final letter home, to deliver in case of their sacrifice. Most check their kit over and over as if possessed, ensuring they are ready for whatever dawn reveals.

7am

The guns are silent, and we hear the sweet sounds of birdsong somewhere behind us. Such a hope it gives me that the world will continue on after this madness ends and is long forgotten.

They have given the order to stand-to. I must do my duty, my love. I pray we see each other again soon.