Unnamed soldier, undying love

November the 2nd, 1916

Dear Valery

Forgive me for the late reply. For the other soldiers and I were impelled to dig several trenches, and it busied me so. Our delving took us deep into the humid earth, alongside the lofty hills. The air is cold and bitter. The kind of breeze that claws at your cheeks and fills your eyes with tears. Once my work slowly drew to an end, I peered over the embankments, obtaining a glance of the falbed "No man's land".  The world above the trench is cursed and destroyed. The earth vomits pillars of black foetid smoke and barbed wires twist about the fields like coiling serpents. They are laden with bits flesh flap and clothing of those unfortunate ones that sadly could not cross over successively. 

The innards of the trenches are as disquieting as the world above, if not more so!  I am up to my knees in freezing, muddy water. Many of my companions are sick with a cold, and grieving over a plethora of  horrible injuries. The bandages and medical equipment are soaked and ruined by all the water and the blankets, caked with mud, no longer offer any comfort.  Several of my companions constructed small awnings emerging from the trench wall - with pieces of clothing of those who've perished - to shelter themselves from the rain and water that seeps in over the edge of the trenches when the wind is just right. Everyone is upset and frustrated. The noisy boom of the explosions on the surface, shakes not only mud and the earth of the walls, but also the hope from my heart.

After tonight we are to emerge from our trench and cross the "No man's land". Ultimately to our deaths.  We are infinitely beat when it comes to the number of German soldiers waiting like uncanny predators on the hill tops.  My war companion, Steven died last week.  Blinded by rage in the midst of battle, he rose forth from his cover and up to the surface. In no less than a second, his body fell back,  his battle cry cut off with a blood gurgle. He landed atop me, a heavy bleeding heap with a blow hole the size of a fist on his chest. I scrambled up and right about then I could say my sanity was rattled a trifle. Blood covered my face, dripping from my nose and chin as I gazed down at Steven's lifeless, pallid expression. My companions and I watched him that day...watched a man bleed as if time had deserted us.

I must end my letter short, my love.  But I must say that I am sorry for everything. For failing to ask your hand in marriage. For breaking my promise that one day we should have the children as you always wanted. As I write, I hold your wedding ring tightly in a muddy fist and I swear to you if I return, I will never leave you again.  Your face, young and beautiful kept me living all this time. 
Oh Valery, it was your hand that will guide me through the "No man's land" to victory and to redemption.
If I am to die, I will perish with your face and love in mind in my sight and heart. 

I love you.

Unnamed Canadian Soldier.