Liebe Vati, Cher Maman, June 7th
Somewhere in Flanders

It's a long way from Lothringen to Belgium, but here I am. I arrived at the aerodrome 3 days ago. The chaps are first rate. Gave me an outstanding welcome. Well, except for the old hands. They seem to keep their distance from us new chaps. Anyway, I've got my own bedroom in town. Quite cosy! It's clean and the bed is soft. What more could a soldier ask for?

We were up early this morning. The boss must have been impressed with me (or more likely my name. Thank you Herr General Vati!) because he told me to lead a recon patrol. Imagine that! Me leading 3 others on my very first patrol! Right after breakfast the boss showed me where to go on the map, and told me to keep my eyes peeled. Apparently there are rumors that the English are up to something. Now, before you start worrying Maman, let me say that absolutely nothing happened during the patrol. No sign of any offensive here. Just some archie, and we saw two or three English planes parked at an aerodrome far below. Round and round we went. I was, frankly, a bit bored, but my observer was busy! He was forever scribbling in his notebook. I think he even counted the cows in the fields below!

I've got to go. It's time for dinner, and there might be another patrol in the evening. I hope everything is well at home. Give my love to Reinhardt and little Louise. I hope you have enough to eat.

Please send me a new pipe, and my Goethe. There is a surprising amount of spare time here!

Here is a picture of my aeroplane.

One of my squadron mates took it this morning, on patrol. We have our own darkroom and everything here (for pictures of the front line, normally) so we developed it as soon as we came home. Quite nice, don't you think? Perhaps it could be a post card someday?

Olham, i used my login name, samba_liten, when i submitted my report. Hope that doesn't cause too much confusion.

Last edited by Fred; 06/07/14 11:41 PM.


The torn line wavers, breaks, and falls. 'Get up, come on!' the captain calls 'Get up, the Welsh, and on we go!' (Christ, that my lads should fail me so!) A dying boy grinned up and said: 'The whole damned company, sir; it's dead.' 'Come on! Cowards!' bawled the captain, then Fell killed, among his writhing men.