And our soldiers were most thoughtful about those belonging to them whom they had left at home. A sergeant thus wrote of a brawny Yorkshireman who had lost his regiment: "His chief grievance was that he had not been able to write and tell his wife where he was and how he was getting on. 'Tha' sees, lad,' he remarked in perfect seriousness, 'th' missus knows that now and then I drink one or two more glasses than's good for me, and she'll be gettin' anxious.' A few days before he had been in a terrifically hot engagement, yet the only thing that worried him was the fear that the 'missus' might be anxious about what he called the 'teetotal lay'!" Private F.W. Dobson, 2nd Coldstream Guards, wrote this to his wife: "It is with the greatest pleasure that I write this letter, as it is our wedding anniversary--September 30th. I only hope we shall spend the next one together. You will know by the time you receive this letter that I have been recommended for the V.C.--an honour I never thought would come my way. In fact, I do not yet realise that it is possible. I only took my chance, and did my duty to save my comrades. It was really nothing, but I shall never forget the congratulations and praise I received from our officers, my comrades, and a Brigadier-General." A sergeant of the 18th Hussars ended a letter to his wife with these "home-sick" words: "Oh for a cup of tea with you. Your worst cup of tea would come in very nice now." Private O'Dwer, of the Irish Guards, said in a letter from the front to his wife: "It was a great relief to hear from you. I was just having my tea during a lull when I got your letter, and didn't I enjoy my tea much better. On Tuesday last I escaped by a miracle from a bomb thrown from an aeroplane. It did no damage, only made a very large hole in the ground just where we were digging trenches." Scrawled on the back of this letter which appeared in _The Evening News_, was the following: "Darling,--I am now lying in a forest with my leg shot off and don't know when the ambulance will turn up. It's awful. We were completely cut up. I hope to see you again. Love to baby and all.--Jack." A King's Royal Rifleman wrote to his wife that the framed photograph of herself and of their children, which was in his breast pocket, stopped a bullet. "Last night in the trenches I dreamt I was back home again and was playing with little Gracie and telling her some stories of the fighting. Tell her I will bring her something, if it is only the Kaiser."