My Brother Jack - Creative Writing (Letter Home)

Dear FatherI have moved again since I blend wrote. My platoon has been restationed to Belgium. I received your last letter on the thirty-first of July and I am writing this on the 3rd of venerable 1917. I read your letter while being transported towards Passchendaele, nestle third battle of Ypres in Belgium. I am now writing this letter in a improvised foxhole with a poncho blanket me so the rainwater does not spoil the composition. Writing root is hard to come by these days, and in the botch and never ending rain the paper is often wrecked. When we arrived to reinforce the associate troops already stationed hither they were under heavy triggerman fire and had not yet finished their trenches. Artillery is the to the highest degree terrible thing. You hear a distant crack of a cannon tinder and accordingly a few moments afterwards the shell hits. There is or so no warning and in that location is no modal value to tell where the shell will hit. As soon as you hear th e sound of the cannon firing everybody scrambles to get bum into the trench, or into some sort of c everyplace, come out of the public press of the way of the white hot pieces of metal flying in all directions. Yesterday I was base on balls stick out to the supply depot, which involved walking over a specify of duckboards natural covering the mud.

After the endless weapon and rain the entire theater is one entire quagmire of mud and walking through it is especially dangerous as the craters from artillery are fill with mud and cannot be distinguished from the mediocre land. Anyway, I was walking back from th e supply depot with over 40 kilograms of sup! plies when my garter Jack slipped over the duckboard and into the mud. Except he just unbroken on sinking and then I realised he had fallen into... If you want to get a full essay, site it on our website: BestEssayCheap.com

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