Item 01: Malcolm Shore Stanley correspondence, 8 December 1916-28 October 1918 - Page 130
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[Page 130]
This city is a heap of ruins, antique works of architecture lie in dust, there isn't one single house within a radius of 5 miles standing & it is so right along the line - a strip of desolation & a "rendezvous of death" every night planes come over & drop bombs, all day shells pour in, isn't it a waste of energy, human & material. But the poor horses & mules, my sympathies go out to them they have a hard existance which is frequently ended by a kindly bullet, they are strewn along the roads & tracks, day & night they labour they are always going, carrying loads on roads more awful than anything you know, poor creatures they are sacrificed for the countries to which they belong, with us they bear the heat & burden of the day & one frequently wonders if God cares for them, how they suffer carrying ammunition for the guns - 180 lbs in each load, often I pat them as I pass & I wonder if they understand, its fine to have an issue biscuit to give to them.
You'll think this is an awful letter - it isn't, all I have endeavoured to do is to give you some indication of things as they really are, my hand isn't clever enough to elaborate
Enclosed is a bit of lace purchased today in a town some miles in the rear, they said it was an handkerchief but I reckon it is a table centre. I liked the butterfly, it is hand worked, this part of