I am writing to you from the Camp of the York Hussars. How are you these months? I think you are all right, but only very lonely at home, nobody to cheer to you. Sorry about that I left you for a long time and hope you aren’t worried about me, and believe is going well here. Anyway let me to tell you about my life in England. This camp mainly of regiments of the King’s German Legion who sleep round the tent – poles. Other regiments have come to encamp on the downs and pastures, because the King is at the neighbouring town.
The spot is high and airy, and the view extensive even though the midden – heaps lie all around us. The British uniform is very brilliant, with its immense epaulets, queer cocked – hat, breeches, gaiters, ponderous cartridge – box and buckled shoes. So far from being as goy as its uniform the regiment is pervaded by a dreadful melancholy, a home – sickness which depresses many of us. We can’t attend to our drill. Many of the younger soldiers haven’t been over here long. They hate England and. English life. It’s the same for me, I hate the weather here is too wet.
I don’t like the food, because there is lots different of us what we have in the Germany. Such as the English sausages, which taste so terrible too bad to eat. I wish I could come back Germany now to have some delicious sausages for my meal. Speaking in English is a problem for me living in England. Sometimes it makes trouble for me when I use English to communication with other people. The English people don’t understand what we pronounce, so we always waste some time with body language to help them understand.
The life at the camp is the same very boring; we only wish to be out of it and never to see it any more. Though our bodies are here, but our hearts and minds are always far away in our dear Fatherland. I wish I could come back quickly. I miss you so much. I will work hard and do everything well. Don’t be worried. I’m fine. I can look after myself. I will stop now mother and write more next time. Take good care of yourself. Love from your dear son Matthaus Tina Letter two Dear Mother I am writing to you to tell you about that I have some changes in these months.
I never feel lonely and bored now. Because I have encountered one precise girls in the past few weeks. She is name is Phyllis. She is eighteen years old. She is one British doctor’s daughter. She is interested everything as us in this military investment. Her home is stood somewhat apart, and on the highest point of ground to which the lane above the camp ascends. Unfortunately, she can’t go outside anytime. Her only pleasure is to damber up the wall and sits on the top to look outside. I first met her in that place when I passed by there.
The white muslin neckerchief which covered her shoulders and neck where left bare by her low gown, and her white raiment in general showed conspicuously in the bright sunlight of that summer day. On that occasion I hated there and blush, because I hadn’t see her when I walked awkwardly By after that day, I came there again to re-peruse letters from you. This was my second meeting with her. She had dambered up the wall and sat on the top as usual. She felt so surprise and asked me what I was reading.
I informed her that I was reading the old betters which you sent to me a great many times because I didn’t get them often. After that we exchanged a few words. Though my English is not good, but I was quite intelligible to her when I had conversation with her. We met each other continually at dusk. Next time I waited for her to appear in her usual place at the usual hour. I was so disappointed, she didn’t appear. My disappointment was unspeakably keen; I remained starting blankly at the spot until the trumpets and tattoo sounded to enter the camp in time.
But that night I didn’t go, she appeared in her usual place at last. She implored me to leave immediately, she was afraid I might be disgraced. I said to her gloomily that I didn’t mind that. I should have disappeared from the world some time ago if it had not been for two persons, one is my beloved, and one is my mother, you. I hate the army. I care more for a minute of her company than for all the promotion in the world. Thus I stayed and talked to her, and told her interesting details of my native place and incidents of my childhood.
She seemed had been affected by my stories. In face, I have a plan. I hope you can assist. I scheme to go back to Germany with Phyllis. Phyllis will be my wife and live with us, but this is a dangerous enterprise. I think you will feel rather amazed at this proposition. Phyllis was the same, but she has agreed it already. So I need your assistance. More details about when and where to meet you, I’ll write to you later. Mother, remember believe me and don’t tell anyone. I long to come back quickly. Don’t be worried about us. We will be safe.