I can now see why they call modern warfare a symphony we play one song, Death, composed by Soldiers in arms, our rifles are violins, we play the Devil's music. Susan I love you but I fear I may never see you again, I'm afraid I'm now a traitor my men have not told the higher ups, I stopped to listen to a dying German boy's last wish, which was to kill him with HIS weapon. I love you so much Susan and as I am writing this I wish I could see you and be with you but I'm afraid I'm here until the war is over I LOVE YOU so, so much.
We charged and charged after the courier took that letter, we killed men my age charging in stabbing them with bayonets moving on like that all day I was cut by a boy not yet 17 and I, I killed him. My emotions fade more and more every hour it was like that stag, we moved again to a new trench we had just been pushed back from, Huntsman charged sprinting a Fritz was waiting for him in a crater and caught Will with a bayonet just above the collar bone I rushed to his side and he thrust my cross back into my chest, I dug in my pocket and retrieved his knighthood medal and put it in his hands just as he died. I left him and ran on crossing half a kilometer to the back of the troops. We continued the fighting and death, I looked to the sky and saw a small red dot burst into flames and collide with the ground, "Good bye Richthofen." I said to myself. I was plunged into a fight of knives, bayonets, and small clubs, taking a cut to the arm and a blow to the leg, but such is war we charged over the wall when I heard a loud whistle, then my world went black.
A letter from Susan on November 11.
I have just reached word that the war is over I'm so excited to see you, I've missed you terribly, I love you, see you in my dreams my soldier.
This I read while laying in a hospital bed. How could I face Susan like this? I now have one leg, and cannot see from my left eye. The mortar hit a boy directly sending shrapnel and bones into the
boys around him a large shard took my foot, I took another smaller shard to my eye, I cannot face her. But in one week I must.
The days passed and soon I found myself on a train planning what I could tell her to help her understand that I accept that she no longer loves me. when I arrived at the train station I had help out and when I could walk with my crutch I approached the pad where Susan embraced me, still as beautiful as I had left her, wait no more beautiful, because now I don't see that sadness in her eyes, she kissed me and welcomed me back not talking about the leg just telling me of the house she was dreaming of and of how life was going to be.
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