Ww1 objector
Ok. To start this off I should probably introduce myself i guess. I’ve never really written much before so I’m not quite sure what I’m doing but oh well. My name is William Baxter. I am twenty six years old. And I am not who everyone thinks I am. If you’ve heard of me it’s probably under the name John Baxter. John was the name of my older brother, he died three years ago in a farming accident. I took up his name as an alias in the hopes that the military wouldn’t find me. I refused the war drafts. That’s when all this happened. When I was called to join the army I refused. I used my brother’s name to stay hidden and pretended that “william” had run away. It sounds brave but trust me, it wasn’t. It was an act of cowardice that I regret with all my heart and soul. I started protesting the drafts silently through little acts of defiance. Pulling down recruitment posters and throwing them away, that sort of stuff. Just things that aren’t that big of a deal y’know. Not enough to get me arrested or anything, just enough to annoy the recruiters. That was all well and good for a while. Then Colin’s birthday was drawn.
Colin and me, we grew up closer than two peas in a pod, we even had our houses on the same street. His ma was friends with mine so we hung out a lot. God it’s a little weird to be writing this after keeping it hidden for so long but I guess I’m good as dead anyway. Colin and me. Well we got closer than just friends if y’know what I mean. It was a hot Friday afternoon when the recruiters came. I remember because Colin had been talking about how it was probably the last properly sunny day we’d get for the next few months. He begged them not to take him, which took more guts than I ever would have expected of him. He always was braver than me anyway. They took him of course. It’s not like he had any “good” reason not to go. I don’t like to admit it but I screamed and cried like a child. It was my fault of course. I could have saved him. I know I could have. If I had just run in there and, well I’m not really sure what I could have done but I could have done something instead of sitting there and letting them take him. I got depressed after Colin left. I didn’t eat or sleep properly for almost a month waiting for the day he would come home. I was sure he would return. He had to. Then his mother got the letter in the mail. Colin had been killed in the fighting. It had been on his first patrol. The other side had dropped a bomb. He was hit by the shrapnel. Ironically that was the thing that snapped me out of my depression. The knowledge that he was dead and I’d never see him again. I don’t know, something in my mind changed.
I’ve made my decision. If I wait here too long they’ll find me and take me away, as if I could ever fight. It’s not like there’s really anything here for me anymore. Colin is gone. Probably buried in a mass grave somewhere out in another character. My brother, the real John Baxter, is dead. My ma will be fine without me. It’s not like I’ve been much help to her the past month. I just. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t live like this. Pretending to be someone I’m not. Avoiding the government officials. Missing Colin. I just hope that he’s there to greet me at the pearly gates. I’m sorry to everyone. Sorry that I couldn’t do any better for any of you.
Sincerely signed
William Baxter
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