To Jack

Dear Jack,

I hope this letter finds you well. We have arrived in a place called Gallipoli, and our lads have had their first taste of battle. They made a good showing of themselves, <blacked out: but paid a dear price. In the first few hours alone, we saw hundreds of casualties come through our clearing station.>. I tended one with a grievous wound to his arm, and his only care was getting back to his mates. In spite of it all, it makes you proud to be among them.

I must confess war is not at all what I expected. I thought I had seen a lot in the hospital in Melbourne, but nothing could have prepared me for the horrific injuries we see here every day. What little sleep I've managed has been haunted by the images of these poor lads, cut to ribbons by machineguns and shells. The matron says we'll get used to it in time, but I don't believe anyone can get used to this.

A few of the other sisters and I have been posted to one of the forward aid stations. I hadn't thought to be so close to the front, but from what I hear we have it better than the hospital ships. Last night our aid station was shelled <blacked out: accidentally by our own ships>. No one was hurt, thank heavens, but it was terrifying. I cannot imagine how you can face such fear every day. I dare not write anything of this to mother or father, since they would be beside themselves with worry, but I know you will understand.

I must return to my duties now, but I shall try to write again soon. Until then, keep yourself safe.

Your Friend, Kathleen
April 1915

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