Letter to my Grandmother (5)

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

此信件由先父查尔斯·K·泰勒（Charles K. Taylor）悉心珍藏。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阵亡。这位霍林斯沃思小姐（Miss Hollingsworth）便是我的祖母，同时也是欧内斯特的母亲，“霍林斯沃思”为其娘家姓氏。我的父亲是四兄弟中唯一的幸存者：
爱德华（Edward），贝德福德团（Bedfordshire Regiment）列兵，编号16836，于1916年4月19日牺牲，年仅18岁；
欧内斯特，贝德福德团列兵，编号16830，于1916年10月16日牺牲，年仅20岁；
罗伯特（Robert），皇家海军M1号潜艇（Royal Navy Submarine M1）一等水兵/司炉炮手（AB/SG），于1925年11月12日去世，年仅26岁。
本人推测E.S.坎贝尔（E.S.Campbell）即为艾恩·悉尼·坎贝尔（Eion Sydney Campbell），军衔为34A炮兵下士，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日退伍返澳。不知这位作者E.S.坎贝尔的家人是否仍定居于澳大利亚？

信件抄录
《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写下这封信，但我仍觉得应当告知您昨日发生的一桩令人悲痛的事件。
当我们途经一处旧战壕区域时，我发现了一具几乎被炮弹爆炸掀起的泥土掩埋的士兵遗体。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的琐碎物件——这些物品本身并无价值，却可能是国内亲友珍视的念想。这些琐碎之物如今看来何其哀戚——它们本是联结生者与逝者的纽带，如今却随逝者一同被遗忘于战火之中。
其中还有数张照片，但几乎全被浸透的水渍与淤泥损毁。我翻找遗物时，您的照片映入眼帘，发现照片背面印有您的住址，于是我将它留存下来，准备寄还给您。
这位士兵应隶属于英国某军团，我想是林肯郡团（Lincolnshire Regiment），因为该团在此区域经历过惨烈战斗，战壕间的弹坑内遍布他们的遗体。假以时日，掩埋队或许会前来为他们举行体面的葬礼，并将随身财物送交其家属，但多数情况下，他们或许只能被草草覆土掩埋。在这场残酷的战争中，我们几乎没有时间悼念逝者。
我们在信件中不得提及具体地点，但此次情况特殊，或许可以破例。这位赠予您照片的无名士兵，便长眠于索姆河前线（Somme front）勒布夫（Lesbouefs）与戈德库尔（Geudecourt）之间的中途区域。
您的友人已为国家荣誉捐躯。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。”随后我将圣经放在了他的胸前。他就此安息——直到我们洞悉生死的终极奥秘，在那最为崇高的坟墓之中，士兵的长眠之地。
再三思量之下，霍林斯沃思小姐，我还是希望能保留这张照片。它已部分损毁，或许会勾起您不愿触碰的旧忆。当然，或许我的想法有误，若如此还请见谅。我没有信封可以装寄这张照片，但若您能随信附上一个信封并告知我您想要取回照片，我会立刻将它寄给您。
我们此刻正经历激烈的战斗，在这般环境下写信实为不易。就在我写完前一页时，一枚炮弹从我们的炮位上空呼啸而过，在后方轰然炸开，声响骇人。还请原谅这字迹潦草、语句断续的信件。
战场上的夜色既壮美又可怖。整条战线上，照明弹与信号弹此起彼落，将方圆数英里的战壕映照在一片惨白摇曳的火光之中，与此同时，机枪的嗒嗒声与火炮的轰鸣震得大地颤抖。
火炮轰鸣，高空绽放的照明弹熠熠生辉，马克沁机枪发出刺耳的嘶鸣，重型炮弹呼啸而过，狰狞的死神缓步前行，收割他可怖的战利品，而白昼在夜色的怀抱中悄然垂泪。
我们便在这场战争的混沌之中苟活，有时我会思乡，渴望重回澳大利亚，在丛林的静谧之中休憩。我自1914年8月起便投身军旅，想必也该歇歇了，您说呢？不过我不该过多谈论自身，我本只想寥寥数语告知您友人的下落，毕竟您或许一直都在牵挂他的安危。
对我们多数人而言，人生已所剩无几，毕竟如今那些赋予生命意义的点滴都已遥不可及：夏日晴空的澄澈蔚蓝、几许欢笑与些许爱意。
亲爱的霍林斯沃思小姐，谨向您失去友人一事致以最诚挚的慰问，请勿过度悲伤；他的牺牲光荣且不朽。
谨上
E.S.坎贝尔