I finally received your letter.
Your news is difficult to accept. One always thinks of the trenches as the place where one loses ones comrades. The news of death at home, where things are supposed to be safe and apart from the battles we fight, has shaken me to my core. Words cannot express my grief at this news. Our poor girl. She will be missed.
I find that this news colors my last week in the trenches. It should be a time of celebration. The war is almost won. The first wave of soldiers has already made it home. And yet, all I can think about is what will not be waiting for me when I get home.
In the meantime, I try to refocus my energies and keep true to the task at hand. My victory will still be a victory; I know now that unless an unexpected attack comes, I will succeed in my mission. But somehow this victory seems hollow. The whole experience has seemed tiresome. Not as I remembered it.
I have a few more duties to complete for my comrades at arms, and then I shall be free to lay down my arms. Possibly for good this time. I have spent ten years dedicated to a cause that I find I no longer believe in. I do not believe I can fight this fight anymore, nor lead people into this fight another year.
I am tired, my love. I look forward to a long rest when I return. Perhaps I will tell you all about my tour in greater detail when I am back in the arms of familiarity and the comfort of my normal routine again. I cannot tell you how much I long for things to go back to normal.
Soon, my love. This tour is almost done.