UNKNOWN SOLDIERS: Reliving WWII in Europe

A Brit stands by a butterfly bomb (Department of Defense)

beautiful tent over the dugout. It’s like a cathedral; your voice almost echoes . . . had the time of my life opening packages in it last night. The one with Wordsworth’s poems came, minus, strangely, your ‘4 tins of food.’ Some hungry mail clerk must have intercepted ’em.” A few days later: “It collapsed in the rain and Jerry spent a whole day digging out my stuff.” And from him in a letter to my father: “Relations became a bit strained recently due to the fact that Joe enlarged our foxhole while I was on an OP and the hole fell in on top of me while he was on an OP.”

Jerry’s and my dugout drafted in my journal