Queen Alexandras Officers Hospital
Ward A Grosvenor Road
Dear Mr. Newman
You have without doubt received the news which only reached me tonight of Petes death. Perhaps he has mentioned me to you as from the old days at West town until I was wounded we were the best of friends. It could not be otherwise on my part to know Pete was to love him and we all knew that when we christened him Pretty Pete that the name was too shallow for a nature that every day was a living sermon to us all. Those that had the privilege of working with him would never have forgotten him had the end been other than it was, but his death was as fine as the spirit that filled his life. I can not describe it better than the account given me in my letter from Sergt Simpson "And now comes the hardest part of all the part that I wish I had not to write. No 3 Gun and the best handled of them all. Little Pete Newman in charge. He had spread his crew out keeping Bolton and Bebb in the same bay with him Bebb was wounded and burned and Pete dug him out with the assistance of Bolton, then Bolton went under and Pete fixed them both up and ordered them to go (back to the nursing station lined out) for supports. Bolton reported and a company man started to crawl to the gun position and there he found Pete badly wounded. He asked Pete what he could do and he replied "Get the machine gun into the support trench. I'm all in, I've done my best" Another shell burst over the trench burying the gun and wounding the company man and the whitest little chap I ever met or ever wish to meet passed away, dying as he lived, doing his best. They found him with two bombs in each pocket and his rifle between his knees lying on his back with such a peaceful smile on his face that I nearly broke down, strong man though I am."
From this you can form some idea of what we thought of Pete. Please accept the sympathy of us all in your great loss.
(Syd) Lewis Cockrill Leiut