Dearest,
I wish I never wrote you the last letter. The message seemed I was praying for everything war had to offer. I didn't realize how awful it can get.
We're finally on the front lines and every day is a grueling task of staying alive. Our superiors are good, they keep us alive, on our toes and still we keep losing men. Good men. A man should never cry. Yet, I did. I lost my best friend. His brains caved in by a brute.
They don't know of fear, nor do they fear death. One by one they march into our fire; I've seen it with my eyes. Soon, they tell us, I too shall see combat. I hope I see you again.
I wish you were in my arms; I wish I was there.
Yours forever, Steven.