June 17th. lettres de guerre #3

Dearest – A
I wonder if the military reads letters
Before they let them through?
I’ve always wondered that
Out here
You wouldn’t want a bad letter
But what would constitute a ‘bad’
Letter? Damned if I know….

When you’re young and just going in
You are told everything to expect and what to do
But out here….
You’re on your own
The guys
They talk a lot about their girls
About what they’re gonna do
When we get home
About fucking
Taking prostitutes in foreign cities
All the shit
But when it all comes down to the line
What you want
Is that last night back
Where I had you for a couple of hours
And we waited for morning
That’s what we want
And we want this to be over
And we’re afraid of
What this will make us
What we’re becoming
What if I can’t be that close again?

And that line isn’t the heated battle
You’re a machine in that moment
The line
Is the nightmare of midnight in hell
Black as pitch
No sound
No sight
The air still as a plate
And you have no idea what the other guy is doing ….
All you have is a pulse
And a memory

Waters is younger than me
average guy like any of us
Always waiting for a moment to write
On a piece of paper
But he
got a letter from back home
His girls family
Their home was hit by a tornado
There were no survivors
I have no idea what came over him
He just started walking
Straight to the line
When Peterson jumped him and held him down -waters screaming and clawing at his face –
Every ounce of purpose was gone from that man…
We sent him back to psych…
I don’t know
I think we should probably not let letters through like that
I think
If we do
Please don’t let me know about it

I was just wondering ….

It’s midnight
I can’t say much of anything else
But I hope you are well
Thanks for writing…
I’ll send this through
If I don’t get another chance to write .
Yours. Always Charlie.

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