I am not quite clear why I wrote this essay of this period. I had no literary or military ambitions. My parents did not read it. Perhaps it was to provide a kind of continuous alibi, to remind me where I had been, perhaps an interesting memorial if I failed to return. The day was Monday 4th. Sept. 1916. Recalled from Leave. Ordered "out". Felt very 'bucked' with life. Train to Dunfermline, packed a few things …showed first 75 words of 502 total…

…showed last 75 words of 502 total…haunted by the sight of Martin’s decapitated body. In conclusion my war experience was short and tragic. My friend was killed before my eyes I considered myself to be one of the lucky ones. I was lucky enough not to have to experience the flame-throwers, tanks, and poison gas. That killed many of my fellow peers. So I am lucky for the price I paid for my country was only my legs. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ **Bibliography**