Chère,

This is my first letter to you, my first real letter anyways. Those love notes I gave you last year don't count, though I know you kept them all. Oui, I know about the shoebox under your bed where you keep all the trinkets I've ever given you. Ton frère, Pierre told me. Don't be mad chère, that was the only reason I managed to work up the courage to ask you to that dance.

I know you're anxious to hear how I am, so I'll get straight to the point.

Life here is…difficile. There's no other way to describe it. Even when there are no battles, you need to watch your head so a sniper doesn't get you. Mon ami, Jean, learned the hard way. He's now taking up a bed in the infirmary; they don't expect him to last much longer.

The weather est terrible. The rain fills my trench with water, making a thick, muddy soup for me to rest it. Most of the men are sick, moi aussi. Mais, don't you worry about me, chère. I'm strong; I'll get better soon. My commander is a good man; he keeps me out of trouble. Says I remind him of his fils back home. J'espère que the war is over before he enlists.

To keep us somewhat amused, our commander started a new game with us. Kill the most rats. La personne who kills the most rats gets his pack of cigarettes. I've killed seven of les vermines déjà. Je vais gagner la conteste! I need those cigarettes…

Life here isn't anything like I imagined it. All around me I see men, just like me, who have seen and lived through too much and are starting to give up. I don't want to be like them, chère. I need to keep fighting; I need to know what I'm fighting for. Because, mon Dieu pardonne-moi, I'm not fighting for my country anymore.

I'm fighting to come home to you.

Seeing death chaque jour has really put things into perspective. Some of things I used to worry about—you talking to Jacques Gauthier—don't even cross my mind anymore. All I care about is living through this grande guerre, in hopes that one day I will be able to hold you in my arms again. That, chère, is what keeps me marching when I want to rest, picks me up when I fall.

I try so hard to keep living for you, but as each day passes it gets harder and harder to remember. Your hair, is it gold or chestnut? Are your eyes hazel or green? Is your laugh like a bell, or the chimes? Je ne me souviens pas. These things have slipped from my mind, but that's ok; je peux souviens the feel of your hand in mine. Soft and smooth as satin, small and delicate as my mother's finest china. C'est ton main I feel when I'm scared, your hand that guides me through the battles, your hand that helps me up when I fall.

And that's all I need to make it through.

Je t'aime et je t'aimerai toujours,

Étienne

Translations:

Chère – dear

Oui – yes

Ton frère – your brother

Difficile – difficult

Mon ami – my friend

Est terrible – is terrible

Moi aussi – me too

Mais – but

Fils – son

J'espère – I hope

La personne – the person

Les vermines déjà – the vermin already

Je vais gagner la conteste! – I will win the contest

Mon Dieu pardonne-moi – my God forgive me

Chaque jour – every day

Grande guerre – big war

Je ne me souviens pas – I don't remember

Je peux souviens – I can remember

C'est ton main – it's your hand

Je t'aime et je t'aimerai toujours – I've always loved you and I always will

I wrote this for my history class. It wasn't plagiarized in any way shape or form.