My darling,

It has been so long since these wretched events conspired to take you away
from me. We were happy once. Do you remember? Remember how happy were in the
seclusion of our little cottage by the lake, feeding the ducks and making
love for days on end. Oh, I suppose it is cruel of me to remind us of such
moments when you are so far away and in imminent danger. I wonder what that
must be like for you. I think of you every day. I do wish you’d write to me,
however, I understand that circumstances may prevent it. Do you remember the
ice-blue woolen coat you gave me for Christmas? The one with the fur trim?
You should have seen the first time I wore it to the town. Ice blue in a sea
of black, I stood out, like a snowy dove trooping with crows. I don’t mind
telling you I felt rather self-conscious at first, but in no time at all I
began to relish the feeling. I still wear that coat often in winter.

All my love,
Molly

Darling Molly,

I sometimes lie here - half in the sodden earth, half out, listening to the
land explode there and abouts - wishing that I was elsewhere. Wishing that
the only thing I could hear was the world gently wending its way past the
end of our path. Wishing that the only thing I could feel against my skin
was your touch and the warmth of homely walls.

I live in this dream to escape the brutal reality. I drink morning tea
beside you because it washes the metallic taste of dried blood from my
mouth, whether my own from my fear-bitten tongue or the remains of some
unnamed foot eoldier, blown half away in this battle-scarred marsh.

It’s winter there, I know. I hope you are sat by the fire, counting the
days. I am sat by the fire too. It’s dawn now. I can hear crows cawing from
the skeletal trees, signalling the end of my nightwatch. Pray for a peaceful
day, please.

My love,
Dominic