Free Beast of the Field by Peter Jordan Drake

have been re-asigned to an artillery unit because of my size.  They figure if I can eat like three men, I can carry shells like three men.  There right, I gess.  Anything to do my part, I gess.
    We are marching now non-stop.  We pass thru towns that are in ruins, you wouldnt believe.  There are only old folk, mostly, left in these towns.  This was nice country, once.  Not anymore.  The fields are so full of bomb craters they look like the moon.  To eat we have bully-beef and hard tack, and to drink very little water.  I am wasting away, let me tell you.  Some of the littler guys feel sorry for me and give me some of there tins of beef, but I dont know if Ive ever been more hungry in all my life.  I cant wait to sleep.  In the Army you learn how to sleep when you march or you dont sleep at all.  I cant wait to get to some real fighting.  This game of war is pretty boring so far and I am ready for some action.
    Im glad you like that last letter I wrote.  I sure miss you guys.  Send more chocolate!   Hug our soldier for me.
                                                            Best to All, Jr.
     
    It was coming to life in her head.  She had seen enough pictures of the war in the newspapers that she could build on them in her mind.  She could now see Junior in his uniform, marching, dying for food.  He hardly went two hours without eating.  She couldn’t imagine him going a day on a couple cans of corned beef.  No wonder he’d been so ready for a fight.
     
    Little Brother,                                                        France, June 26, '18
    We are marching to a place called ___ _______, which is a forest close to _______ I think.  We might see some fighting there.  Us Do-boys will be fighting with the French, the Canadians, the English and the Australian troops.  Too much for the Hun, you can bet.  We are in range of the German guns now, and have seen some shelling.  It has not come down on us, but close to us.  What a sight. It is like one of the worst thunderstorms like we get in Kan., but the ground shakes the whole time. 
    We are training with the French as we march, and let me tell you, these guys know there stuff.  They have been at it for 4 years now.  It is amazing that a guy can fight like this all that time and still smile and joke around.  Tho maybe a lot of there smiling has to do with the bottles of wine they carry in their packs.  One platoon has a mule that jingles with bottles as they tug it along with them. 
    We slept in a barn last night, but that was not really sleep at all.  They gave us 4 hours to rest and all we did was fight off rats the whole time. Yes, the rats do fine here.  They have everything from man to mouse to get fat on.  I can barely stand the site of the piles of dead mules and horses.  They get blown to smithereens the same as anything else.  The jerrys aim there guns right at them.  No place for a horse person like you, little brother.
    Tell Mother war is a piece of cake, and Im doing OK.  As always, give our little soldier a big tight hug for me.  When I get home, your getting a big hug too, little brother, like it or not.  HAHA!
                                                            Best to All, Jr.                
     
    He was changing.  He wasn’t the brave Yank anymore.  He was becoming scared, sad and angry.    It showed in his handwriting, the words themselves.
     
                                                                                                     
    Little Brother,                                           France, Aug '18
    They moved me again.  Now when you write to me, send it to Co. A, 1st Army, A.E.F.  Some