A Letter To Dad

Dear Father,
I'm sorry I didn't write sooner. It's been hard to write this. I'm also sorry I didn't listen to you. I wanted to come and help out. If I'd waited to attend school and officer's training, I thought, the war could have been over before I got here. Now I'm not so sure. From the morning I arrived <censored>. Please, forgive me. If anything should happen to me here, I don't want you to remember me as a disappointment.
You taught me well, father. If it wasn't for your lessons, I might have cracked already here. I wish I'd listened a little closer, or I might not have been rushing in so much, something that's gotten me wounded twice. I just keep thinking, 'I might be able to help,' but twice now I've been the one to need the help. It's something I'm working on.
I'm not as good a shot as I used to think. Shooting stationary targets is one thing, shooting Huns in the dark with artillery exploding all around is something completely different. Still, I got a kill my first time in action. It didn't sink in until I went to sleep the next time that it was a person behind that shape. There was another one who <censored>. They'll both be in my nightmares forever I think.
I try not to let it show, though. I know what you said about not showing weakness to keep morale up was intended advice for an officer, but on the line, we hardly ever see the officers. Whenever one person gets upset on the line, though, it has an effect on us all, and I don't want to be the one causing that.
I hope you're still at home. I know you were frustrated that you were stuck in administration and training, but mom needs you.
Again, I hope you can forgive me. Say hello to mom for me. I miss you both.

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