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                     A War ponies tale                     
                       -by Mr Wolf-                        
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                    Leaving the front.                     
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Leaving the front.
20th November 1916.
Name's Private Tommy Smith, had to write that in here for people to know it's mine since my last diary was destroyed by a shell. Any-ways, it's two days since the end of the horror show they put us through. 'Battle of the Somme' my left foot! That was more of a Hell than a battle. I'm just grateful I'm just grateful that I manage to survive the whole thing. Wish Richard did too. God bless him.
Now I am one my way back from the trenches. On leave. Got no family, they died when a Zeppelin bombed them, or friends, they're still out there, lying on the ground. So it'll just be me then. Who knows, maybe I'll find a nice girl and show her this little trinket I found. It's a small silver necklace with a unicorns head on and a small jewel embedded into it. Got it off a dead German too. Not like he deserved something so refined. They started this war and began to kill us in ways that would make the Boer wars a slap to the face. The gas they use is horrific. Still can feel my lungs burning from a year ago. Hopefully the war will be over by this Christmas.
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Tommy put his diary down. The memory of the fight still fresh in his mind. He still couldn't believe that their new tanks could break through German lines. Now if only they would stop breaking down.
Suddenly the familiar whistling of a shell came and impacted next to the cart he was in. He lost concious just as the necklace began to glow.