𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐃 ˚ 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝

𝐨𝐧𝐞.

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CHAPTER I.
the first letter.
_____________________

April the 7th, 1917

Dear Thomas's mum.
Honestly, I'm not sure about how to begin this letter to you so please just bear with me on this one.

I know you might be wondering 'who this fella which has sent me a letter' might be, and I completely understand that it might seem a little strange. My name is William Schofield. Will for short. I was in the same brigade as your son, Thomas. In the 8th.

We are friends. We were friends. Good friends. Close friends. He had this gift you see, a gift of cheerfulness. He could light up an entire room with his positivism. He truly made my days in the trenches bearable, always telling jokes and stories. Tom was a good man. A good man who was well-liked by many.

I think if you've read this far, you probably know what has happened, what the reason of this letter is. I want you to know that this is heartbreaking for me to write. My whole body is aching so bad. But, I gave Tom a promise and I intend to fulfill it.

Tom and I were sent out with an important task on behalf of our Commanders. We were supposed to stop an attack where approximately sixteen hundreds of our men would've died. And we did manage to stop it, we got there just in time. Well, I did.

You have to understand, it was a dangerous task we got assigned to and both of us knew that we might had to sacrifice our own lives - for the sole reason of delivering the message. And we were okay with that. On our way we experienced and witnessed a whole lot of horrendous and dangerous situations. Situations that most likely will haunt me for the rest of my life, both when I'm awake and when I'm a sleep.

It hurts me for writing this, but as you've probably figured out - your son, Thomas, is dead. Tom was killed while helping a German pilot from his burning plane as he had crashed into the barn we were taking cover in. I'm sure it's reassuring for you to know that Tom was kind, considerate and helpful until the very end.

As he was dying, I held him close in my arms. He wasn't alone. He was never alone. Tom's last wish was for me to write to you, his beloved mother, and tell you that he wasn't scared. He was a brave lad your son. He never did think twice before making a decision, always somehow making the right call. He also told me to tell you that both you, his mother, and his elder brother are loved. He loved you with his whole heart, I could tell.

I did in fact meet up with your elder son after I had delivered the message. I didn't have to tell him what had happened, he just understood right away. I passed on Thomas's belongings to him. He thanked me and said that he was glad that I had been with him the whole time. Your elder son also approved for me to write this letter to you. He is a kind man and I'm glad that I got the chance of making acquaintance with him.

Your son was a hero. He saved me, like, truly saved me in every way a person could save someone. And I'm forever grateful for getting the opportunity to get to know Tom. He will always have a special place in my heart, that I will promise you.

I know you might be confused and even don't believe what I'm writing, for how could it be true? I don't understand it either, it hasn't occurred to me yet. Just know, that he thought about you and your elder son until the very end. He passed on with the image of your family held dearly against his chest.

This is the point where I have to somewhat end this sorrowful letter. I'm so sorry for not writing under other circumstances. And I'm also sorry for delivering the sad news about Tom's death. I hope you'll get through this, but I know it will take a while. As it will for me.

Feel free to write me back if you'd like. I completely understand that it might be too much to ask for in times like this. Actually, Thomas never did tell me your name.

Your elder son told me to give him this letter when I had finished writing it. He told me he would mail it to you.

You take care now.

Best regards,
W. Schofield.