This is a much- abbreviated version of the letter sent to the Morning Post in August 1916
As a mother of an only child, a son now in training, I reply to the letter from that young man, Perhaps, he will convey to his friends in the trenches, not what the Government or the Pacifists think, but what the mothers think of our fighting men. It is a voice which demands to be heard, for it is we who mother the men who have to uphold the honour and traditions of the whole civilized world.
We women demand to be heard. The corn that will wave over land watered by the blood of our brave lads shall testify to the future that their blood was not spilt in vain. The blood of the dead and the dying, the blood of the common soldier from his slight wounds will not cry out to us in vain. They did their share, and we, as women, do ours without murmuring and complaining.
Send the Pacifists to us and we shall show them that in our homes there shall be no sitting at home warm and cozy in the winter, cool and comfy in the summer. There is only one temperature for the women of the British race, and that is white heat. Our ears are not deaf to the cry that is ever ascending from the battlefield from men of flesh and blood whose indomitable courage is borne to us on every blast of the wind. We women pass on the human ammunition of children to fill up the gaps, so that when the common soldier looks back before going over the top, he may see women of the British race on his heels, reliable, dependent, uncomplaining.
The reinforcements of women are behind our boys. We did not want war. Women are created for the purpose of giving life, and men to take it. But the bugle call came. Our soldiers did not count on the women, but we have risen to our responsibility.
They say “Peace, peace; “when there is no peace. (Jeremiah 6:14)
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