I hate it here its swampy, gloomy and foggy. You have to wake up everyday at 5 am by a bugle and go to bed at 9pm. I wish I never came. I don’t care about the white feather. Freddie has been put in the cook house twice and Peter has been put in solitary confinement and hasen’t come out yet. The only thing I like is running around with a rifle filled with a bayonet.
The sergeant has a nose like a pig, ears like a elephant and a mouth like a snake. His words spit out of his mouth like a waterfall some rude and unecessery. Do you know what? I have to eat potatoes every day!
Every time I go outside another day has gone I don’t think I’ll be back for Christmas. Have you got a letter from Dad yet?