Letter from the Other

My dearest Polly,
It has been a hard time, here in Korea. You can’t tell the enemy from your allies. We lost Kimbo and Burkhart last week. They stumbled into a minefield.

Thoughts of you keep me going in the dark times. The Colonel especially enjoyed the stockings you sent. I am sure you meant to send them to me, but had accidentally addressed them to him. It didn’t feel right to insist he give them to me. He asked that you send a size bigger as they didn’t quite fit.

The cookies you sent to Lieutenant Markham were also much appreciated. He shared them with the other officers in the Mess Hall. Us enlisted men were hoping there would be enough for us too. Maybe you can send a few extras so that we can taste your lovely cooking as well.

I know you told me last time that the car was making some odd noises. Don’t take it to Mikey in the High street. He’ll scam you. Take it the Steve in Raymondville. Tell him that you know me and he’ll give you a good deal.

I know you are a strong and independent woman, but I need to know that there is still a place for me in your life and heart. Some of the men have taken local “girlfriends” and I want to assure you that you never have to worry about me, straying. I tried to speak to the chaplain about this very problem, but his secretary said he was very busy attending to his local flock. I’ll try again tomorrow.

We had a visit from a general, yesterday. It was General Stoneman. He sends his regards and hopes that you got the present he sent. That was very thoughtful of him. I didn’t know he took such interest in the home lives of his enlisted men. He seems a good, strong leader. And he is confident that we’ll be going home by Christmas. We can only hope the enemy agree to such a timeline. They haven’t been very agreeable thus far.

I had a letter from Mother recently. She says that you are not letting my absence get you down. She has seen you out at many clubs and restaurants these several months. I am glad you are keeping your spirits up. The last thing you need to do is make yourself sick with worry. Keep your mind off the dangers that I face every day. Dance with the men in the clubs. Laugh and be merry. I will love you and I will see you when I get home. And I know in my deepest heart that you will love me and care for me, no matter the condition that I return to you in. If I return to you missing limbs, I know you will stay by my side. If I return to you a gibbering wreck, you will care for me. If I come home and cannot work for the rest of my life, I know that you will take up the reins to provide for me and all the children I know you want.

 

My dearest Polly, I will write again soon.

My eternal love and devotion

Eustace

  

P.S. Enclosed is the half my pay that you said needed for living expenses. I hope it is enough for you to purchase the items you need.