Letter to my Grandmother (4)

The above letter has been carefully looked after by my late father Charles K. Taylor. It refers to one of his brothers, Ernest Taylor, who died in battle in WWI. The girl, Miss Hollingsworth, is my Grandmother, Ernest's mother and that was her maiden name. My father was the only survivor of four brothers: Edward, Private 16836 Bedfordshire Regiment. Died 19/04/1916 Age 18 Ernest, Private 16830 Bedfordshire Regiment. Died 16/10/1916 Age 20 Robert, AB/SG Royal Navy Submarine M1. Died 12/11/25 Age 26 I think E.S.Campbell may be 34A DVR, Eion Sydney Campbell 25th F.A.B. 26/08/1914 R.T.A. 25/11/1917. I wonder if any family of the writer, E.S.Campbell, are still around in Australia? Transcript of the letter Firing Line France 15-5-17 Dear Miss Hollingsworth I hardly know how to commence this letter to you, but I feel that I write and tell you of a sorrowful incident that happened yesterday. Whilst crossing a portion of our old trenches, I noticed the body of a soldier which had been almost buried by the explosions of a shell. In his pockets were several things - a testament, some letters and all the little trifles that a man carries with him, of no value, but which may be treasured by his relations at home. How sad and mournful those trifles seem - the links that bound them to life and are now forgotten in death. - There were several photos also, but they were nearly all destroyed by the water and mud that had soaked them through. Your photo gazed up at me as I turned them over and noticing that your address was on it, I kept it to send to you. - The soldier belonged to some British regiment, the Lincolnshire I think, for the Lincoln's had a very bad time just there and their bodies are lying thickly among the shell holes. In time perhaps the burial parties will come along and give them decent burial and all personal property will be sent to their people, but in many instances they will be merely covered with earth. There is little time in this bitter warfare to think of the dead. We are not allowed to mention names of places in letters but in this case, it may be over-looked, this unknown soldier from whom I got your photograph, lies in the old trenches, half way between Lesbouefs and Geudecourt, on the Somme front. - Your friend has died for the honour of his country, I marked a passage in his testament, (greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.) And I laid it on his breast. So he lies at rest - until the great mystery called life and death is made known to us, - in that noblest of all tombs, a soldier's grave. - On second thoughts, Miss Hollingsworth, I would like to keep your photograph. It is partly destroyed, and it may awaken old memories in you that may be better left undisturbed. I may be wrong, of course, if so forgive me. I have no envelope to enclose it in, anyhow, if you will enclose an envelope to me with the request for the photograph, I will send it at once. - We are engaged in heavy fighting just now, and writing letters under these conditions is rather a feat. Just as I had finished the preceding page, a shell roared over our gun-post and burst behind, with an appalling crash. So pardon the scribble and disconnected sentences. - Night on the battlefield is a beautiful and terrible sight, along the whole line the star-shells and flares rise and fall ceaselessly, lighting up the trenches with a ghastly flickering glare for miles around, whilst the rattle of machine guns, and roar of our artillery make the earth tremble.- The cannon thunders - high flung star shells gleam, the maxims gibber as the great shells scream, gaunt Death stalks out to claim his ghastly Right, and Day weeps out upon the lap of Night. - So we live amid the chaos of war and sometimes I get homesick and wish I were back in Australia in the solitude of the bush again. I've been going since August 1914, so I deserve a rest, don't you think so? I mustn't write about myself though, I intended sending you only a few lines, just to tell you of your friend, for you may have wondered about his fate. Life holds little for many of us, for after all the few things that make it worth living are at present denied to us - the blue of the summer skies - a little laughter and a little love. Dear Miss Hollingsworth, I send you my sincerest sympathy for the loss of your friend, do not grieve; his death is honourable and honour is eternal, I am, Yours sincerely, E.S.Campbell本信件由先父查尔斯·K·泰勒（Charles K. Taylor）悉心留存。信件提及他的兄弟欧内斯特·泰勒（Ernest Taylor），后者于第一次世界大战中战死沙场。信中提及的霍林斯沃思小姐是我的祖母，即欧内斯特的母亲，霍林斯沃思为其婚前姓氏。先父是四兄弟中唯一的幸存者： 1. 爱德华（Edward）：贝德福德郡团（Bedfordshire Regiment）列兵，编号16836，1916年4月19日逝世，享年18岁； 2. 欧内斯特（Ernest）：贝德福德郡团（Bedfordshire Regiment）列兵，编号16830，1916年10月16日逝世，享年20岁； 3. 罗伯特（Robert）：皇家海军M1号潜艇（Royal Navy Submarine M1）水兵兼锅炉兵（AB/SG），1925年11月12日逝世，享年26岁。 据推测，E·S·坎贝尔（E.S.Campbell）为34A号驾驶兵（DVR），即埃恩·悉尼·坎贝尔（Eion Sydney Campbell），隶属于第25野战炮兵旅（25th F.A.B.），1914年8月26日入伍，1917年11月25日返澳（R.T.A.）。笔者好奇这位写信人E·S·坎贝尔的家人是否仍定居于澳大利亚。 以下为该信件的誊录内容： 《火线》，法国，1917年5月15日 亲爱的霍林斯沃思小姐： 我几乎不知该如何提笔给您写这封信，但我觉得应当告知您昨日发生的一桩悲痛事件。当我们途经一段旧战壕时，我发现了一具几乎被炮弹爆炸掀翻的士兵遗体。他的口袋里装着几样物品：一本圣经、若干信件，以及所有士兵随身携带着的细碎杂物——这些东西本身并无价值，却可能是国内亲友珍视的念想。这些琐碎物件如今看来格外令人伤感，它们本是逝者与尘世相连的纽带，如今却随死亡一同被遗忘。 此外还有几张照片，但几乎全被浸透的泥水损毁。我翻找遗物时，您的照片映入眼帘，发现背面印有您的地址，便将它留存下来打算寄给您。 这位士兵应隶属于英国某军团，我想是林肯郡团（Lincolnshire Regiment），因为该团在此处遭受了惨重损失，弹坑中遍布他们的遗体。日后安葬队或许会前来为他们举行体面的葬礼，将个人财物寄交给其亲属，但多数情况下，他们或许只能被草草掩埋。在这场残酷的战争中，我们几乎没有时间顾及死者。我们不被允许在信件中提及地名，但此次或许可以破例：这位赠予您照片的无名士兵，就长眠在索姆前线莱斯布夫（Lesbouefs）和热德库尔（Geudecourt）之间的旧战壕中。 您的朋友为国家的荣誉捐躯。我在他的圣经中标记了一段经文：“人为朋友舍命，人的爱心没有比这个大的。”并将圣经放在了他的胸前。他就此长眠——直到生命与死亡的伟大奥秘向我们揭晓之时，安息于这世上最崇高的坟墓：士兵的长眠之地。 再三思虑后，霍林斯沃思小姐，我想将您的照片留下。它已部分受损，或许会勾起您不愿被轻易触碰的旧日回忆。当然，我或许错了，若如此还请见谅。我没有信封可以装它，无论如何，若您能寄给我一个带回邮地址的信封并附上索要照片的请求，我会立刻将它寄给您。 我们此刻正处于激烈的战斗中，在这般环境下写信实属不易。刚写完前几页，一发炮弹就呼啸着掠过我们的炮位，在后方炸开，发出骇人的巨响。因此请原谅我字迹潦草、语句断续。 战场上的夜晚既壮美又可怖：整条战线之上，星光弹与照明弹此起彼伏，将方圆数英里的战壕照得一片惨白诡异，机枪的哒哒声与大炮的轰鸣震得大地战栗。 大炮轰鸣，高悬的星光弹熠熠生辉，马克沁机枪嘶吼，巨型炮弹呼啸而过，枯瘦的死神迈步前来索讨他那可怖的战利品，白昼伏在黑夜的膝头啜泣。 我们便在战争的混沌中度日，有时我会想家，渴望重回澳大利亚，再次置身于丛林的静谧之中。我自1914年8月起便随军征战，想必也该歇歇了，您觉得呢？不过我不该过多谈论自己，我本只想寥寥数语告知您您朋友的下落，毕竟您或许一直好奇他的命运。对我们多数人而言，生活已所剩无几，毕竟如今连那些让生命值得的点滴都已被剥夺：夏日晴空的蔚蓝、些许欢笑与些许爱意。 亲爱的霍林斯沃思小姐，谨向您致以最深切的慰问，为您失去友人之事。请勿过度悲伤；他的死是光荣的，而光荣永存。 您真诚的， E·S·坎贝尔