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<blockquote data-quote="Plane Sailing" data-source="post: 8248620" data-attributes="member: 114"><p><h2>Chapter 2 - Somewhere in France </h2><h3></h3><h3>Anna (spades, oh-oh)</h3><p>John,</p><p> </p><p>My dearest, I am so worried for you. You do not sound like yourself, my darling love. I hope that you received the package I sent you--all I knew was somewhere in France, but the Queen's postal service is said to be the best in the world, so I hope they will find you. I want to keep some of it a surprise, but I do hope some of what I put in there takes that awful taste out of your mouth and replaces it with something sweeter.</p><p> </p><p>If it makes you feel better to put your horrors of war into letter, do so, but I fear that I am losing you and your cheerful spirit. What would the bonny and mischievous Puck do in this situation? My sweetheart, try to remember your stories and imagination and dream yourself a better place, even if it is just at night.</p><p> </p><p>All my love,</p><p> </p><p>Anna</p><p></p><h3>John (clubs)</h3><p>Anna, my darling baby girl, </p><p>Your letters and thoughts of warm lips are the only things keeping me sane. This is a godless place. They tell us we are somewhere in France, but in truth it feels more like hell. God grant me the strength to stay strong enough to make it home to you. The trenches are full of mud and rats. The cries and screams of the dying ring in my ears and in my dreams. I'm an Oxford man. I didn't know that the smell of blood coats your tongue in with a metallic taste. That it bathes your face in think crimson warmth when the man next to you gets his arm blown off. That it...my God! What am I doing? I am so sorry my dearest little one. I should not burden your kind heart and pure soul with these things. God forgive me, you are the only I can share this with. I promise my next letter will better. Please forgive me and pray for me, my only Love. </p><p></p><p>I have been and always will be your loving and faithful John.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Plane Sailing, post: 8248620, member: 114"] [HEADING=1]Chapter 2 - Somewhere in France [/HEADING] [HEADING=2][/HEADING] [HEADING=2]Anna (spades, oh-oh)[/HEADING] John, My dearest, I am so worried for you. You do not sound like yourself, my darling love. I hope that you received the package I sent you--all I knew was somewhere in France, but the Queen's postal service is said to be the best in the world, so I hope they will find you. I want to keep some of it a surprise, but I do hope some of what I put in there takes that awful taste out of your mouth and replaces it with something sweeter. If it makes you feel better to put your horrors of war into letter, do so, but I fear that I am losing you and your cheerful spirit. What would the bonny and mischievous Puck do in this situation? My sweetheart, try to remember your stories and imagination and dream yourself a better place, even if it is just at night. All my love, Anna [HEADING=2]John (clubs)[/HEADING] Anna, my darling baby girl, Your letters and thoughts of warm lips are the only things keeping me sane. This is a godless place. They tell us we are somewhere in France, but in truth it feels more like hell. God grant me the strength to stay strong enough to make it home to you. The trenches are full of mud and rats. The cries and screams of the dying ring in my ears and in my dreams. I'm an Oxford man. I didn't know that the smell of blood coats your tongue in with a metallic taste. That it bathes your face in think crimson warmth when the man next to you gets his arm blown off. That it...my God! What am I doing? I am so sorry my dearest little one. I should not burden your kind heart and pure soul with these things. God forgive me, you are the only I can share this with. I promise my next letter will better. Please forgive me and pray for me, my only Love. I have been and always will be your loving and faithful John. [/QUOTE]
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