Below are four letters written from men serving overseas during WWI, which were published in the Examiner in 1916.

The following letter appeared in the Raymond Terrace Examiner and Lower Hunter and Port Stephens Advertiser on Friday, January 21, 1916.

Mr. Herb Clague is in receipt of the following letter, from his brother Orry, dated Anzac, November 23, last:

Yes, old sport, I'm still alive and kicking ; they haven't managed to get me yet. Of course, there is plenty of time for them to do so, Poor old Douglas is back again to have another go at them ; he's nearly had his share of lead now. Oh! before I go any further, fancy old Frank Lowe wanting to come to Egypt.

I would love to be there when he arrived; the [expletive] would have him killed in no time, What would he look like in a uniform? "Gor, man alive," he would be just the thing; take him to see a Can-can, Eh.

Well, Herb, our position here is almost unchanged along the line ; in different places we have captured the enemy trenches; our brigade is on the right, about 1000 yards from Gaba Tepe fort — of course the fort has been blown out by the navy.

We have plenty of killed and wounded every day. At present I have rather a good job — I'm General Smyth's batman, and so I'm attached to Royal Brigade head quarters.

It was hard luck Eric Lowe being knocked out so early in the game. Don't you think it nearly time Clarry and Joe Crowfoot put on the uniform? There is plenty of room for them over here, for we want more and more men every day.

How, is the old river looking; just the same, I suppose. I saw a picture of the Williams in the " Lone Hand." My word, Herb, this is the place to get experience. I was sitting in my dugout a couple of days ago, and was buried by a shell bursting near by ; another time I was blown up in a sap ; two chaps were killed and three other fellows grassed by the fumes, but I came out of it alright, with the exception that I was dazed for a few hours after, and I cannot describe in writing what a bayonet charge and hand to hand fighting is like, but still I'm glad I've had the experience, although its a fair brute of a game.

When the guns are roaring under your ears and the rifles are cracking it would give you an impression of rapid scales being played on a red hot piano of hell.

I am, sending Ormond some cigarette cards, perhaps by next mail, if I can get any money to post them.

There was a German taube flying over us this morning, and the fire from one of the battle ships very nearly got him ; the shell only burst a few yards away from him. When our aeroplanes go out the Turks shell them a treat, but never bring them down, not even frighten them away.

One day I saw them fire over 60 shots at one, and he never even flew away. Of course they are at a terrific height. Old John Turk is fighting a blood thirsty, but fair, battle. I would like a pound for every bomb I've thrown into their trench.

How would you like to be on the old "Burwood" and attached to the Baltic fleet again? What is that new river boat like? Is she any better than the 'Erringbi' was? It is awfully cold here at present; I think we shall have snow before long. Well, Herb, I shall ring off now, hoping the address will find you O.K. and in good health.

Published in the Raymond Terrace Examiner and Lower Hunter and Port Stephens Advertiser on Friday, November 10, 1916.

Private George Matich, writing to Mr. J. Gulliver, of Miller's Forest, says:

You will be surprised to hear from me, as I am a complete stranger to you. I was Sam Robinson's friend before we went into the firing line, and we arranged if one of us was killed the other would write to his people and let them know if possible how death occurred.

Although the authorities would send word, we thought it would be nice for those at home to receive a note from a mate to say how it happened. Well, you will know by now that he is dead, and I would have written to you before, but up to now he has been posted as missing, and word has just came through that he has been killed. I was not with Sam at the time, having been removed from him earlier in the morning unluckily, so cannot tell you anything further than that he died from the effects of a high explosive shell.

I made enquiries at all the clearing stations where it was possible for him to go when wounded, but he had never been there. I can't express in words the regret I feel at Sam's death, for he was the best mate I ever had, or could ever wish for, and it was impossible to find a better man in himself than what poor Sam was. Everyone who knew him is sincerely sorry that he has gone, as all were genuinely fond of him.

I can say no more than to express my deepest sympathy in your loss of so noble a man.

Published in the Raymond Terrace Examiner and Lower Hunter and Port Stephens Advertiser on Friday, October 6, 1916.

Private K. T. Pogonoski sends us the following, dated France. 12th August:

I have had the misfortune to be slightly wounded since I wrote you last, but it is nothing to make a fuss about. We were having a pretty hot time, also a little bit of fun, up till the time of my downfall.

I will try as well as I can to tell you how it occurred. I was working on Battalion Head Quarters, and being drowsy for the want of a rest, one of the officers told me to go and turn in for a while, as we would be required in a few hours' time to make an attack.

I had no sooner laid my waterproof down and laid on it when I don't remember any more until I found myself at the hospital about five miles from the firing line. They told me that I was lucky to be alive, as I was buried by an explosive shell and had to be dug out, but I am getting along fine now. I am still dizzy about the head and my hand is scarred. We get the best of attention here; we are in No. 3 Canadian Hospital, and the sisters are very nice to us all.

While I was there we made several charges and gained ground every time, each day being a success; but Fritz is a very poor fighter. He is alright when a good distance off from you, but when you get up to them they would throw down their arms, hold their hands well up over their heads, and cry "Mercy, comrade."

We would then take them prisoners, and they were only too pleased to be taken; but they have lovely trenches. I saw the trenches we captured with furniture, bedsteads, and carpet on the floor, also sleeping apartments, 35 to 40 feet down, while we are using three or four feet trenches, and lucky to have them. I saw myself, a German in a trench chained to his post, and the chain linked to a machine gun; also another crawling over to our line with a chain dangling behind him linked up to a machine gun, coming to give himself up.

Well, remember me to Messrs. A. L. Adam, E. Markey, Bob Elkin, and all of my friends, and tell them I am still smoking one of the pipes they gave. Trusting they are all well, I am yours, sincerely.

Published in the Raymond Terrace Examiner and Lower Hunter and Port Stephens Advertiser on Friday, November 17, 1916.

Trooper W. Spruce, writing to his father under date of 26th September, says:

I am well at present. You will be glad to see the old Doctor and Major Windeyer back at Raymond Terrace again.

I would very much liked to have seen him before he left, poor old chap, as I had only met him once for a few hours.

We have had another fly at the Turks since the big battle, and came out of it lucky this time. The Turks cannot face the cold steel like we Australians. I suppose you have seen the full account of it in the papers before this.

I was unlucky enough to get a slight wound at the battle of Romani, but nothing serious, being wounded the same day as Major Windeyer, which put me in the hospital for a month's holiday, but I am alright again now and back with my regiment.

Davie James is over here again as our sergeant, a jolly fine fellow he is.

Major Richardson is keeping well, and looks splendid. It is a fine sight at present to see the date crop, and we nearly live on them. I hope that this great and cruel war will soon come to an end, but

I don't think it can last much longer. Remember ine to all at the Terrace.