Letters From the War

December 27th, 1944
Dearest Laura,

I have not seen you for four months now. I miss you dearly and hope to see you as soon as possible. The war rages on in once-beautiful Europe. In a few days my company and I will leave war torn Paris for the frontlines in the Ardennes forest to counter the Axis advance. Christmas just passed and it was sad without you. Just to see your face would be the best Christmas gift possible. I swear when this war is over I will take you to Paris, the city of love, where we can spend Christmas together. All of those goddamn krauts should be dead by then and the blood-soaked pavement will be clean too.

Love,
Tom

January 7th, 1945
Dearest Laura,

The war is hell. Everyday we are shelled by enemy artillery and must run for our lives. I watch my friends get blown to kingdom come. Yesterday the jerries charged the line we were holding just as I was thinking of you. I picked up my rifle and shot a running coward Nazi in the stomach. The way that dirty kraut fell reminded me of when I fell head over heels in love with you. I then shot his friend trying to drag him to cover three times. It only reminded me of that time we went ice skating and I fell right on my ass. Remember how you tried to help me up and you only fell down with me? We laughed so hard, as hard as I laughed when those two pieces of shit laid dying next to each other. The men here at night scream out from vivid nightmares of death and gore, but the only dreams I have are of you.

Love,
Tom

January 19th, 1945
Dearest Laura,

My company and I went on a routine patrol today. However, we encountered fierce enemy resistance. I only had you on my mind when fighting for my life. I was bombarded with bullets, blood, and guts for what seemed like an eternity—just like the eternity I hope to spend with you. As I ran out of ammunition, a jerry kraut son of a bitch vaulted over the log I was hiding behind. I was thinking of our eternal love when I wrapped my hands around his cold, skinny, kraut piece of shit neck and squeezed as hard as my tender loving hands could. I only wish those hands could hold you right now. I felt the pulse in his neck beating as fast as it could for his survival, almost as fast as my heart was beating when I first met you. As I choked this fascist fuckwad out I thought of how delicate love truly is. The crying ass-lick jerry was kicking and writhing all over the place, like the baby I hope we one day have. His gargling, the screams of “medic,” and explosions of grenades were a full orchestra playing our favorite song. The crap-eating Nazi gasped out that he had a wife and two children that he himself loved dearly. He begged me to let him go and he would desert right then and there. But like our love, I would never let it just leave, so I strangled the pussy until he slowly stopped kicking and eyes rolled back in his head. I lit a cigarette with my shaking hands, and wondered when I would see you next. Afterwards, I searched his body for intelligence and found a beautiful locket you will love. I had to throw away the picture of Fritz’s ugly ass wife and I’m sure the blood will wash off easily at home. I will love you always.

Love,
Tom

-JP ’17

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