I received word from your captain. Dearest boy, I am so greatly relieved to know that you are resting in a field hospital. After the horrors we heard about the battles at the Somme, and Verdun, I hardly dared hope to hear from you again. So many men fallen. All of England, it seems, is in mourning.
I hope you will soon be feeling a little better, but do not rush back into the fray. Take your time.
I drew you a bird today. I hope you like him. He is a wagtail.
Send word as soon as you are able. I will be waiting.
Thinking of you always.
Evie
X
From Thomas to Evie
10th August, 1916
Somewhere in France
Dearest Evie,
It’s me, Tom, your long lost friend. By the time you get this letter, I’ll be on my way to Scotland, to Craiglockhart War Hospital for Officers. It’s in Edinburgh, and I’m to be treated for emotional weakness while there. I suppose it is ironic that I have so often longed to return to the country of my birth. Never did I think it would be under such circumstances as this.
Please forgive my prolonged absence and all the worry and trouble I’ve caused you. If I could think or see straight these past months, I would have written line after line.
I don’t deserve your reply, but I saw these embroidered silk postcards (enclosed here), and I thought of you instantly. There were many varieties, but mostly of flags and patriotic sentiments. I thought the beautiful little butterfly suited my lovely friend.
Ever yours,
Tom
From Evie to Thomas c/o Craiglockhart Hospital
14th August, 1916
Richmond, England
My dearest bravest Thomas,
Your letter arrived and I cannot stop my tears. To see your name, your writing, your few words on a scrap of paper have made me the happiest girl in England.
There is so much I want to say to you but words seem so inadequate and my emotions so poorly expressed, and yet I had to write back to you immediately. I must catch the afternoon post. My hands tremble with relief at seeing your familiar script, and the beautiful silk postcard with the butterfly has captured my heart, and yet I feel such an ache there too, for you and your ailment.
For all these months of silence, time has dragged and now the minutes rush past too quickly and the post office will soon close. It feels as though I have thought of nothing and nobody these past months. Morning, noon, and night—even in my dreams. It was always you, Tom. I am sorry to gush (and please know that my cheeks flare as I do). It is so unlike the very private Evie of old to be such an open book, but to know that you are safe and on your way to the hospital in Scotland gives me the most intense sense of relief. They will have you back on your feet in no time, I am certain of it.
Now, I must run to catch the post—I am in danger of saying far too much if I write more.
I will pray for you. Dare I even hope we will see each other soon when I once thought you lost to me forever?
Stay safe, Tom. I will shout your name to the moon tonight. Look for me there.
Evie
XXX
From Evie to Thomas c/o Craiglockhart Hospital
16th August, 1916
Richmond, England
My dear Tom,
I hope this finds you safe and well in Edinburgh. I took the liberty of writing straightaway so there would be a few lines from a friend waiting for you when you arrive. Do you remember how eager I was to write to you and Will when you first set off for the training camp at Mytchett? I seem to recall my first letter arrived before you did.
I am sure you will soon rally under the care of the doctors there. You are in the best place, Tom, and while I know you will hate to be away from your men and are no doubt already wishing to be back among them, I pray that you can take this time to rest and recover fully. Others have stepped out for a while. Now it is your turn. Take all the time you need.
Send word when you are able? I will continue to write anyway. I hope that is acceptable. I don’t wish to overwhelm you.
Much love,
Evie
X
Telegram from Thomas to Evie
17TH AUGUST 1916
TO: EVELYN ELLIOTT, POPLARS, RICHMOND, LONDON SW
SENT: 14:45 / RECEIVED: 15:27
ARRIVED SAFELY. PLEASE KEEP WRITING. YOUR WORDS ARE A BEACON IN THE WOOD. T.
From Evie to Thomas
23rd August, 1916
Richmond, England
Dear Thomas,
How are you? Is Scotland as pretty and wild as I remember? Having visited that part of the country when I was a little girl, I can picture you breathing the fresh sea air that blows in off the Firth of Forth. Are you permitted outside? Does the hospital have gardens and grounds for you to stroll in? I do hope so. I know how fond you are of the great outdoors and hate to think of you cooped up like a messenger pigeon in an airless ward.
I have enclosed some of your favourite cigars, which I hope you will be able to enjoy beneath the balm of a summer’s evening while listening to a nightingale sing. You see—in my imagination you are not really a soldier at war, damaged by its horrors. You are just the same old Tom, enjoying the breath of Scottish air against his skin. Until I can see you for myself, I have to paint such pictures.
Would I be able to visit, do you think? Are visitors allowed? Are women permitted in the hospital at all?
I asked Papa to look into the location of the hospital and he tells me it is not too far from my cousins in Leith. Perhaps I could ask my uncle to look in on you if it isn’t possible for me to come in person? Papa says the best way to help you recover is to leave you with the doctors who know best, but I am sure a friendly face would be the very best medicine of all.
Let me know? I would come tomorrow if I thought it would help.
I will pray for your good health. Do not trouble yourself with a long letter if you find it irksome and tiring. Just a line or two will suffice. “Dear Evie” is enough for me.
Yours,
Evie
X
P.S. I had a dream last night that we were in Paris for Christmas. You, me, Will, Alice. The snow fell in thick fat flakes as we strolled along the Champs-élysées, the lights of the Eiffel Tower twinkling in the distance. It was the most perfect dream, Thomas. I know we will get there one day. I promise we will.
From Thomas to Charles Abshire
1st September, 1916
Edinburgh, Scotland
Dear Charles,
My letter is long overdue. I apologise for frightening you. The last few months I was in a very bad way. Recently, I was transferred to Craiglockhart War Hospital for Officers here in Edinburgh. It’s a specialist hospital for officers with neurasthenia, or a sort of war neuroses. I will be here for an indefinite period.
I’m afraid I’m in no position to do much about the problems at home. Like Father, I place my trust in you. Please continue to keep me updated.
Sincerely yours,
Thomas
From Thomas to Evie
1st September, 1916
Edinburgh, Scotland
Dear Evie,