Dear Diary, 25th December, 1916
So, here I am huddled up on a sturdy branch in a vast tree for the second painful night in a row. It is very hard to sleep because deafening gun shots are going off everywhere. My body is knackered and I have an immensely sore head. I am up in this tree because I am a sniper. If anyone finds this note, they should know my name is George Crane, a private in the army. It feels strange that after all my hard training, I am stuck up a tree thinking of delicious Christmas ham. My mouth probably won’t open, it is freezing here. We have seen lots of massive bears. I got attacked by one, a very big one, it was terrifying. Luckily I shot it. There is one thing I like about being a sniper and that is you don’t have to live in a trench. We eat two times a day, breakfast and tea. I have to go, we are not allowed to write in our diary at night.