Now don't worry, but I am a little injured. Not so badly that I can't fight so you mustn't worry. Two days ago I caught a piece of shrapnel in my left leg. It was nothing major, just a shell that went off and I caught the flak. Now brace yourself, it might put an end to my Olympics dream (hahaha, do you remember that year with the egg and spoon race? I'll never live down the shame).
Alas, it is still stuck there. The field hospital was a little rushed for time with some of the others who hadn't got quite so lucky with those shells and they are stretched with supplies so I didn't want to make a fuss.
We're advancing tomorrow morning, pushing hard to get our territory back from the enemy. There are less of us than there were yesterday so I'll be going back on the line (like I said, it's not that bad) even though the leg is still a touch swollen. Maybe I'll try and poke it with my knife tonight. I know little Hans will think it's brilliant to poke the metal in my leg when I'm home - I can tell him the war made me into a machine! But in the meantime, it does rather ache and I could do to have my wits about me tomorrow.
I'll write again tomorrow once we've got that land back/
Love to you all,