Dear Ma , Thanks for the hot potato. I ate it on the way to where ever we are going but it kept me warm. After what seemed like months , we arrived at Troon. It’s a small wee town near Barassie which isn’t much bigger. It’s now like the street that we lived on.

Once we got there lots of men and women came and chose a random child that they wanted. It was like being at a cattle market. I got left till I was the last one I think it was because of my shoes being black

Anyways I’m staying with Ma Macmillan as she likes to be called on a little house on a hill The water comes up from a well in the wee back garden. There’s a gargantuan handle  you turn up and the bucket comes up filled with water. First thing Ma Macmillan made me do was to wash in the wee tub in the back garden and it was freezing. She wouldn’t let me in until I was scrubbed clean. Then she gave me a nice wee warm cuppa tea. She talks in a weird voice but we get along well.

I have at little room in the attic and I can see across the beach. At night I can hear the waves of the ocean and the wind or rain. I’ve prayed every day and every night for you dad and Liam. Every morning, I wake up to the  sound of seagulls. It can be annoying. There are chickens in the back garden and Ma Macmillan lets me collect the eggs. She has rows of fruit and vegetables in the garden. There aren’t any cars, only the road and horse. It’s dead loud most of the time.

You’ll never guess but Ma Macmillan keeps a pig called Evan in a small wee stone shed. I have jobs to do an the best is feeding Evan. I also have to lock the chickens up at night as Ma Macmillan says that the foxes will have them for tea. First thing in the morning I collected the eggs and Ma Macmillan gives me a scrambled egg.

Barassie is a wee town down at the shore. There are only about 50 houses at the moment. They have these little pathways that leads to the houses lane. They are called ‘laggers’ and each one has it’s own name. There is one called crooked mustard. The fields and trees have green leaves. It’s nothing like home.

Every morning Ma Macmillan sends me off to the wee school. I carry my gas mask everywhere like I promised. It’s only a minutes walk up the lane. Lots of us go there. We have to sing a hymn pray for the country and sit on a wooden bench at the back of classroom, with my copybook and slate. I’m trying right hard with my spelling a counting.

We have lunch outside on the grass Ma Macmillan sends me with a bread and dripping sandwich. Sometimes she gives me some fruit with it as a treat. Lots of the boys eat carrots that they’ve dug up on the way to school. I reckon they might steal them. I’ve seen them washing carrots in puddles and drying them on grass. I tried eating a carrot once but my teeth nearly broke. The boys and girls are ok. They’ve taught us a lot of games. The girls like jump rope and hopscotch. But we are good at marbles.

I hope you and liam are alright ma. I think about you every day. I hope our dad is alright and soon beats Mr ****** and comes home. I’ll write again soon. Please write back to me.

Your loving son-Ryan