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My Dearest Amelia,

It is with a deep yearning in my heavy heart that I write to you. This constant struggle has begun to exact its toll on me. My memories of you brace my spirit, but I fear that I am finally succumbing to the pervasive horrors of war. The grim and grisly events would destroy a man of lesser constitution than me, and I find myself rattled beyond anything I have ever experienced, but I am attempting to make you and our humble town proud.

The platoon in which I have been placed is full of spritely men, all committed to the war effort. Their poise and determination instills a faith deep within me that we will ultimately be victorious. I fear that I am the only one who is afraid of the war. I struggle to adapt to the dry rations and communal life outside the barracks. I haven’t shaved in a week, and my back aches from constantly sleeping on the hard ground of our trench.

Yesterday, I saw a soldier shoot a civilian in the back of the head. The bullet tore the scalp clean off and pieces of his remains landed on my boots. I threw up at the sight and broke down crying. I miss you Amelia. They say war is a terrible thing, but until you experience it, you never truly know. I can’t imagine that I will make it back, but I wanted to tell you that I loved you should I fail to make it back to town.

No matter what happens, Amelia, you’ll always be my favorite hamburger. The day I bought you for $1.32 will always be the happiest day of my life, unless I somehow manage to make it home to your side once more.

With all my heart,
PFC A.T. Piskai, 12th Infantry

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