"I think I would be a coward if I didn't believe in the hereafter."
I had to leave last night and am now finishing on Friday. We have struck tents, the old home which has done us for nearly three months is now bare except for long rows of web equipment and rifles, we sleep out tonight and in train for Alexandria tomorrow. We have been very fortunate as the first lot were here over six months and one month is quite enough when we happen to lob here in the middle of summer.
I am writing this in the mess shed with three gambling schools around me (we were paid yesterday) and I'm expecting Alf to come in at any minute.
I have realised to the full extent how much I owe to my home training. I have never before been amongst so much vileness and corruption. A chap just has to soak in it all day here, there's no getting away from it, and yet I have not the slightest desire to have anything to do with many of the evils so glaring here. I take no credit for it, there are many fellows who have been tempted, and put up a good fight, before the gave in. I can't even take credit for resisting temptation I've not been tempted in the slightest degree. I have had absolutely no desire to let myself go and I'm certain that is due to the home training. I absolutely pity the other fellows who perhaps don't owe so much to their Mothers and Fathers.
We leave here in a few hours for the Dardanelles, where I will consider myself a very lucky man if I come out of it with my life. I am not frightened to die but I can't bear the thought of causing grief to those who love me, yourself, Ettie, Father and the children, but if it so happens that God wills it, it will only be a few short years before we meet again. I think I would be a coward if I didn't believe in the hereafter. I must close soon, I'm disappointed that we haven't had an answer to the first even of the letters which we wrote from here, and I'd like to know, if you have been getting the photos which I have been sending of places where I have been or things I've seen, also whether you got my parcel all right.
I am sending my calarionett home with Ralph's things in his tin trunk, he's left it in the hands of Thos Cook and Sons, so I think its pretty safe but it is not to be sent for three months yet, so you will not get it for a while.
We have heard bad news of Howard but don't know if it is correct. I sincerely hope not so now I'll say goodbye dear mother and will write as often as I can. With love from your grateful son.
ps give my love to Dad and to the dear kiddies I my not have many chances to write to them or to my friends either.