May 30th, 1915.

My darling Anne,—­Queenie will have told you about Colin.  He was through all that frightful shelling at Ypres in April.  He’s been three weeks in the hospital at Boulogne with shell-shock—­had it twice—­and now he’s back and in that Officers’ Hospital in Kensington, not a bit better.  I really think Queenie ought to get leave and come over and see him.

Eliot was perfectly right.  He ought never to have gone out.  Of course he was as plucky as they make them—­went back into the trenches after his first shell-shock—­but his nerves couldn’t stand it.  Whether they’re treating him right or not, they don’t seem to be able to do anything for him.

    I’m writing to Queenie.  But tell her she must come and see him.

    Your loving

    Adeline Fielding.

Three months later.

    The Manor, Wyck-on-the-Hill, Gloucestershire.

    August 30th.

Darling Anne,—­Colin has been discharged at last as incurable.  He is with me here.  I’m so glad to have him, the darling.  But oh, his nerves are in an awful state—­all to bits.  He’s an utter wreck, my beautiful Colin; it would make your heart bleed to see him.  He can’t sleep at night; he keeps on hearing shells; and if he does sleep he dreams about them and wakes up screaming.  It’s awful to hear a man scream.  Anne, Queenie must come home and look after him.  My nerves are going.  I can’t sleep any more than Colin.  I lie awake waiting for the scream.  I can’t take the responsibility of him alone, I can’t really.  After all, she’s his wife, and she made him go out and fight, though she knew what Eliot said it would do to him.  It’s too cruel that it should have happened to Col-Col of all people. Make that woman come.

    Your loving

    Adeline Fielding.

    Nieuport. September 5th, 1915.

Darling Auntie,—­I’m so sorry about dear Col-Col.  And I quite agree that Queenie ought to go back and look after him.  But she won’t.  She says her work here is much more important and that she can’t give up hundreds of wounded soldiers for just one man.  Of course she is doing splendidly, and Cutler says he can’t spare her and she’d be simply thrown away on one case.  They think Colin’s people ought to look after him.  It doesn’t seem to matter to either of them that he’s her husband.  They’ve got into the way of looking at everybody as a case.  They say it’s not even as if Colin could be got better so as to be sent out to fight again.  It would be sheer waste of Queenie.

    But Cutler has given me leave to go over and see him.  I shall
    get to Wyck as soon as this letter.

    Dear Col-Col, I wish I could do something for him.  I feel as if
    we could never, never do too much after all he’s been through. 
    Fancy Eliot knowing exactly what would happen.