Koritsimou,
I wish that I could write to you. I would not tell あなた of the trenches filled with fetid water, the harsh wind which forever besets us even when our enemy’s 銃 are silent. Nor would I tell of the rats and the stench, the endless death and those driven mad によって it all. I would merely tell あなた that I 愛 you.
At first, when we all arrived in this wretched place, none of us could make out the enemy, as the fog shrouded them. We soon learnt how to use the fog to our advantage, keeping quiet and clear of the enemy’s lines. We didn’t have much choice. We ロスト 13 men that first day,...
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