Dear Carolyn,
I hope this letter finds you in the best of health and spirits.
Our first few days here have constituted of mainly settling in, and they have run quite smoothly- but I have doubts it will stay that way, especially after overhearing some of the elder cadets. They were warning some of the younger children of hikes lasting weeks on end, with scarce water and food supplies. I dearly hope they were jesting.
I understand now more than ever why the camps were necessary- there are men here so skinny one gust of wind would send them flying, never mind the war- and as well as that there are children the age of only twelve and thirteen whose families I can only pity deeply.
Aside from that, there is much more to fighting a war than I thought- it takes skill to operate a gun and without experience and training pulling the trigger would hurt you far more than it would your opponent. One new member here decided he was didn't need training and snuck into the elder cadets' tent. He fired the guns with no previous experience and had to be sent home at once, as well as another cadet who became the unlucky target of the younger one's mistake.
Our daily routine so far consists less of training to use our guns and more camouflage, hiking and general exercise. Again, I would have thought the focus would be on guns, how to wield them, other forms of weaponry, etc. Nevertheless, we have been consoled this will all prove useful once we're out on the front lines.
As I am writing to you now, I sit in my one-person tent with a small candle as my only light, in one of the rare moments I get to myself. Our limit is one letter per fortnight- perhaps this is just as well seeing I clearly under-packed my parchment and stamps. This also means I either write to you or my family (and my decision is evident). Thankfully, I get to see my father once or twice a week and as a higher ranking official he may write as many letters as he wishes, so any message I wish to convey to mother or Anne goes through him.
Moving off the topic of me, how have you been? I worry constantly for you; I detest being so far away. I know you wanted to fight too, and I believe you would make a marvellous soldier should women have been allowed to fight. At the same time the thought that you are home safe reassures me, and if I return I will be eternally merry that my fight resulted in your protection and welfare.
Recently my thoughts had wandered to regard your father's business- will it be converted into a bullet or bomb factory, like many others? With all the men gone, and your father absent to run it, will you mayhap close it temporarily? I'd say until the war ends yet that could take years. Your financial situation causes me slight distress, will you have sufficient assets if the business does end up shut for the time being?
I also assumed you'd want to know how your brother is doing, in case he hasn't found the time to write home yet. We are not in the same section but our units often cross paths. He is at the same level as I, except our level is the average one, which meant they had to split our unit into two as there were too many of us. He seems to be doing just the same as I, if not better- it's clear his work as a mechanic must have paid off. If only I had taken the same course.
The commander of Robert's unit, on the other hand is known to give a tough time to all his cadets; however in my opinion that can only be proven beneficial once out in the battlefield. His troops have only ever succeeded- their victory celebrations, I have heard, are also legendary; I am almost envious.
Anyhow, I must be up at the crack of dawn, and I am coming to the end of my parchment. I can only end this letter with the hope that the governments may yet reach some sort of truce before too many lives are lost, or the war grows too out of hand.
Hoping to hear from you soon,
Charles
P.S. The address to which you can write to me is on the other end of the envelope.
YOU ARE READING
forget me, forget me not || ON HOLD
Historical Fiction"The only crime Carolyn ever committed was falling in love," Carolyn Ann has been forgotten. So forgotten, in fact, her stories remain as mere myths. So much that Skylar hasn't the faintest idea who she really was. But her story remains. Ready to fi...
