P.S. The photograph is wonderful to have. You both look so relaxed and happy, arms draped around each other. I would so love to see you both again.
P.P.S. Regarding John Hopper—do I detect a hint of envy? Don’t worry. I shan’t abandon you. I will always write, no matter how many dinners I might have with him.
From Thomas to his father
23rd April, 1915
Somewhere in France
Dear Father (in care of Mr. Charles Abshire),
I haven’t received a letter in some time. You have me worried, Father. I trust you’ve sent for the best doctors? Please continue to keep me informed through Abshire. I think it’s time John Hopper take over for a while in your stead, since I cannot. He isn’t the first choice or even the fifth, I’m afraid, but there’s nothing to be done about it. Abshire needs the assistance and will keep me informed of what’s happening there. I will certainly keep an eye on that cousin of mine as best I can, given the circumstances. I imagine this surprises you, that I should show concern for the LDT. In all honesty, I surprise myself.
Here at the Front, my commanding officer called a briefing this morning. There’s a rumor we’ll be wearing gas masks soon. We may even be fitted with them by next week. “Chemical warfare” they call it—a new and even more wicked version of “battle”—this is what the Germans have brought upon us. The cowards won’t even fight man to man. They’d rather wipe out the enemy with noxious fumes at a distance, run away with their tails between their legs. Father, they decimated two French divisions and one of Algerian troops. I continue to ask myself how hell could be brought lower, how it could be made hotter, yet I continue to be surprised by what the Germans do next. The worst of the news is, we’re headed to the scene of this horror next week, north of as backup.
I’ve lost too many friends these last months. “Every good man fights for a cause,” you’ve always said, and I suppose that’s true. Perhaps we’ll be victorious swiftly now, and I’ll come back a decorated hero as you did. A man can hope, and should, I’ve been told.
Wishing you well. Please rest so you may recover.
I remain your son,
Thomas
From Evie to Thomas
8th May, 1915
Richmond, England
Dear Lieutenant Harding,
Where on earth are you? I haven’t heard from you—or Will—for weeks now (your last letter was 1st April) and I can’t help but worry terribly. We read awful things in the papers about the gas masks and the Germans’ so-called chemical warfare. Is it true? Dear God—what animals.
I’m delivering the post now and with every bag full, I pray to find an envelope addressed to me in your own hand. It seems especially cruel to deliver so many letters, and still find nothing from you or my brother. The job is not quite the joy I imagined it would be. Most of the letters bring news of worsening conditions and dreadful battles. Some are simply returned “To Mother,” stamped “Missing.” It breaks my heart to see them.
These are anxious times. The casualty lists grow longer every day. I can hardly bear to read them for fear of seeing familiar names. We have suffered heavy losses among friends and neighbours—most during the battles at Gallipoli and Ypres (I’m not entirely sure how to pronounce it, but a soldier home on leave who I was talking to on the station platform said the Tommies call it “Wipers.” He said they make up names for all the foreign places they can’t properly pronounce.) Anyway, whatever the place-names, please be somewhere else, away from the worst of it, Tom. Please be somewhere safe, with my brother by your side.
You will, no doubt, have heard about the sinking of the Lusitania. Such atrocities. Such dreadful suffering among civilians. Over a thousand men, women, and children dead. They say it took only a matter of minutes for the liner to sink. It is too dreadful to think about.
Please send word soonest. I will even promise to stop having dinner with Hopper until I hear from you.
Keeping you ever in my thoughts and prayers.
Your friend,
Evie
Telegram from Thomas to Evie
9TH MAY 1915
TO: EVELYN ELLIOTT, POPLARS, RICHMOND, LONDON SW
SENT: 10:00 / RECEIVED: 10:20
WILL WOUNDED. VERY BAD. PRAY FOR HIS RECOVERY.
PREPARE FOR THE WORST. MORE SOONEST.
LT. T. HARDING
From Evie to Thomas
9th May, 1915
Richmond, England
Dearest Tom,
I can barely write.
We all pray for Will’s recovery. He is an Elliott. We are made of iron. Please stay with him, Tom. Don’t leave my brother alone—not for a second. Keep him safe. He is all I have in the world.
Yours,
Evelyn
Telegram to Evie’s mother, Mrs. Carol Elliott
10TH MAY 1915
TO: C. R. ELLIOTT, POPLARS, RICHMOND, LONDON SW
SENT: 10:40 / RECEIVED: 11:16
DEEPLY REGRET TO INFORM YOU LT. W. J. ELLIOTT WAS LOST ON THIS DAY. PLEASE ACCEPT OUR DEEPEST SYMPATHY. SGT. MAJOR UNWIN. 2ND OXFORD RIFLES.
From Thomas to Evie
10th May, 1915
Somewhere in France
Dear Evie,
I have started this letter twice and tossed it into the bin. How do I write these words? I am so sorry my dear friend, but he’s gone. Will is gone. He fought like the devil, and was brave to the very end. These last few weeks have changed us all, even your shining, exuberant brother, but now he has nothing to fear, no pain. He is at peace.
He wanted me to tell you that he loved you very much, and to not be cross with him for eating all the orange jelly every Christmas. You know how he was, always a jokester, even until the last. God almighty, I’ll miss him. He was my best friend, my family. I don’t know how to do this without him.
Please write soon. Share a pretty poem from one of your books? Right now the world is dark, so dark. I need a reason to see this through, Evie. Anything. I don’t believe in this war anymore.
My deepest condolences for your loss, to you, and your parents.
Ever your friend,
Tom
Letter to Evie’s mother, Mrs. Carol Elliott
12th May, 1915
France
Dear Mrs. Elliott,
On behalf of the Officers and men of my Company, I wish to offer my sincere sympathy in the bereavement you have sustained in the loss of your son, Lieut. William James Elliott. I feel that you would like to know how very highly regarded Lieutenant Elliott was amongst all his comrades, and that his loss was felt with great sorrow among the Company.
Lieutenant Elliott was wounded by a mortar attack on 9th May. At the time of his injury, Lieutenant Elliott was in command of a small patrol advancing against the enemy. His men survived the bombardment, having taken cover at his command. Although we were able to remove him to a field hospital, his injuries were too serious. His friend, Lieut. Thomas Harding, was by his side at the time of his death, which was peaceful and without suffering.
He is buried in a military cemetery with full honours. His personal effects have been sent.