"Home Fires of the Great War" . . .

As you can see, I decided to change the look of my blog. I just wanted to play with it. I really wasn't sure what I was doing, so I hope it looks okay.:)
I thought it was time I posted another bit from my book for you. This is from one of the "letters" I have just written. This was written by Emma in October 1917.


. . .Daddy’s visit was wonderful but much too short. He had to go back on Tuesday. He doesn’t have any idea when they will be shipped out. In some ways I think it is harder now to have Daddy gone after he was home, than it was when he left the first time. Why is that? Perhaps it is because at first we were stirred by all the news of patriotism, and now the reality of it all has sunk in. Whatever the reason, it was harder to say good by. Perhaps it is also the fact that we know Daddy could be shipped over to France any time now, while before, he was just going to a training camp.
I was so shocked to hear of Kent’s death! Poor Mary Jane! This war is really becoming more and more real. How many blue stars now hanging in windows will be gold before the war is over? Will ours be gold? Maybe that is really the reason it was harder when Daddy left this time. Deep down inside I wonder if... But I won’t even think it. . . .

. . . “Would you four older ones please sing “Keep the Home Fires Burning” for me?” Mama asked looking into the dying flames.
David hummed a note and then at his nod, we began:

“They were summoned from the hillside;
They were called in from the glen,
And the Country found them ready
At the stirring call for men.
Let no tears add to their hardship,
As the Soldiers pass along,
And although your heart is breaking,
Make it sing this cheery song. . . .


Keep the Home fires burning...”

That last word “home” seemed to linger in the air around us as we ended. Someday this war will be over. And if we aren’t to meet here in our earthly home, we will meet in our heavenly one. The fire was not more than glowing embers with an occasional flame here or there. The cold could be felt, and though I had my coat on, I shivered.
Edmund glanced over at me before he spoke, “I hate to mention it, but it is getting late, and the wind is rather chilly to keep the younger ones out in it much longer. Besides, I don’t think I could sing another note.” . . .

Well, what did you think? Would you like me to keep putting bits of my book up?