Page 31 of Pages of My Heart

To my dearest Red,

I got your Christmas letter today and it brought me to tears.

I look forward to opening my gift when I get home, but to read your words and know that you’re well gave me such relief—that’s the greatest gift of all.

And do you have any idea how it thrilled me to realize we were both reminiscing—perhaps even at the same time—about making love in front of the fire on Christmas Eve? Yes, let’s make it a tradition.

I’m glad to hear you’re spending time with baby Jonathan and enjoying it.

You can tell me all about it when I return—your memories can become mine.

It saddens me that he won’t know his Uncle Charlie and will probably shy away from me.

But I’m glad he has you to smile at him.

I miss your smile so much, sweetheart. You light up brighter than the sun when you smile.

Did your idiot brother enlist, or did you convince him otherwise?

Being a corporal is about as shit as I expected it to be, though I guess it ain’t all bad.

Mostly I fear I’ll make a wrong decision and it’ll cost somebody their life.

That weighs heavily on my shoulders. But so far, so good.

I find myself praying, if you can believe it.

No doubt God has already forsaken me, but I try anyway.

Even if I can’t be saved, I beg that you will be.

We’ve been at a base camp for four days now.

We needed it. We couldn’t have gone on another week the way things were.

There’s illness here, both physical and in the mind.

We all got blisters and cuts and bruises and infections, but mostly our bodies are just thin and weak.

We run on fumes. But we move forward for the ones we love.

When we first arrived here, I slept fitfully for two days.

The boys tell me I had a terrible fever, and when I woke, they asked me who Tommy was.

They told me I was calling out for him. A brother who died in childhood, I said.

I told them I don’t normally speak of him, and they seemed satisfied with that.

But to hear that name spoken out loud after so long—it almost undid me, Red.

My commanding officer is calling for me, so I’ve got to finish this letter here. We’re due to move out in 24 hours and there’s always so much planning to do. Please remember how much I love you. Don’t forget my face, or my touch.

Eternally yours,

Charlie x