January 13, 1916
I long and long to see you, to clasp you in my arms… and I long with all my heart to see my Baby. How I love her. What hopes I have for her, what a sweet girl she will make.
February 25, 1916
He brought the little bible which [another soldier] had taken from the body of the dead German. On the fly-leaf in a child’s handwriting the word Dada. War is very sad. Perhaps the man may have been something to loathe and detest. I do not know. All I am conscious of is that somewhere in his fatherland there is a little child who called him Dada.
April 6, 1916
Poor boys, shell fire is a horrid thing. Gresty – a lad who was a sergeant of mine – was the worst, his body full of gaping holes. It was very, very sad. Do those at home realise how their boys go out for them? Never can they do enough for their soldiers, never can they repay the debt they owe.
June 17, 1916
I do not want to die… the thought that I may never see you or our darling baby again turns my bowels to water. My conscience is clear that I have always tried to make life a joy for you. But it is the thought that our babe may grow up without my knowing her and without her knowing me. I pray God I may do my duty for I know whatever that may entail you would not have it otherwise.
July 1, 1916
I trust they will not claim too many of our lads before the day is over. Now I close this old diary down for the next few days since I may not take it into the line. I will keep a record of how things go and enter it up later.
Captain Charlie May was killed on the morning of July 1, 1916.