• Dear Verruca Welshly


    My Dear wife, I find myself writing this letter in an attempt to let you know that I am fine, but I cannot lie on paper the same way I cannot to you. My heart longs to tell you of glorious fields of American Dogwood that grow like weeds along the Virginia plains, But instead I must say the only thing to litter these fields are blood, sweat and the retched smell of our comrades and enemies rotting away into the soil. Instead of telling you that my days are filled with patriotism for my country, I must tell you I am resenting this Union we call our home, On the days we fight, It never seems to end, And when we wait, It seems to last forever Because we are all dreading for it to come, Looking ahead with terror, Yet hoping it will arrive to end our insufferable boredom. My Feet ache with the punishment these harsh lands have laid onto me, my mind aches with the waiting to see you, and my whole body seems to be punished by the war and what is has bestowed upon me. Oh Vera, How my Heart aches for you. How when I see a flower I think of your soft rosy cheeks and how when I feel the cold shiver of night, I only think of cuddling in our quilts, Warm and sweet memories now.


    The Men Are talking that there might be a battle soon. The thought is almost invigorating now, the thought of finally getting up and standing for what I believe in. The hope that maybe I will get to try to end this war and make it closer to feeling your beautiful embrace when I make it back. Some of my comrades think me crazy for hoping so much, They see me pray at night and know that I wish for it to end, to make it out, And mostly for you to be under our lord`s protective hands. Some of the soldiers are saying we will never make it, Never live to see our families and friends again, But I still have hope my dear. But I must say, with these attitudes around I have begun to think, What if I don`t make it? This is where I must ask, though you might think me crazy, that if I do pass, If I go to the heavily father and my time expires, you must know that I love and always will love you. Know that, every day I was in battle, every day I sat waiting for the guns to fire, and every time I heard of a new rumor of killings, you were on my mind. Your lovely face and hearty soul were the only things that kept me going; knowing I might help our life was enough for me. So I want you to continue on with your life, Even if my soul passes on. You must know that I want: Nay need you to try and love again.


    Ahh, My mind has drifted yet again; I know you wish to know of how the battling is. Put aside what to do in the case of my departure until it is upon you, though I hope it will never be. My day is closing to an end and I need to go and get some sleep, And I will dream of your heavenly face as the dark turns into light. So I say to you my dear, whom I love with my soul and life, watch for the road, because I will be coming home soon. My feet will hit the dirt of our home as soon as they stop trekking through fields of blood. Good-Bye my love. Keep well and always remember the love I held for you.


    Love,
    You’re Husband,
    Christopher Welshly