A/N: While I write this in hopes of it becoming an official manuscript, I doubt that it will ever venture from the Internet. This is the first story I have dedicated so much time to, and I have been really happy with the results so far. I hope others can find something to take from my work someday.


Did She Call My Name?

Dear Kite

How are you doing? I know my letters have been a bit sporadic recently. There has been a lot going on over the past few weeks, and I haven't had time to sit down and write to you properly. We've lost a lot of men due to our- my careless errors. They were all so young, too…

I wish I could be back home with you. I wish I didn't have to hear mines going off in the distance during the night as our allies are being wiped out at nearby posts. We're in the country, you know, so the nights are really quiet. If you stood on our porch and sang, I would probably be able to hear it over here!

You asked me about the scarlet fever in your last letter, remember? Well, I've finally kicked that bug from my system. Amy says I've completely recovered in record time. It must be genetics.

Oh, you must be back in school now. Do you have any fun teachers, or is it going to be another slow year? I received the picture you sent me from photo day. That green background really compliments your hair, Kite. It was so nice to see your smile again. That's probably what I've missed the most since moving out here. I keep that photo in my jacket whenever there's a battle, but I don't go out to the front line very much, being a sniper and all.

Kite, there are some things I want to confide in you about. I'm probably going to come across sounding like a jack ass, but I don't know who else to tell these things to. Wentworth probably won't listen, and Nik… well, there's nobody I can tell these things to without being laughed at. So I want to tell them to you.

Ever since landing in France, I've heard so many people claim to know what love is, or what it feels like. Some of them even dare to assume that they know what shape love takes. And I, like so many of these helpless fools, once thought that I knew what love was.

But I was as blind as the rest of them. You can't give an emotion a shape. That's crazy. I hear these men around me saying that their true loves are the personification of love. But really, what is 'true' love? I don't know if there's such a thing- hell, I'm not even sure what love is.

Can there be love for anything but a significant other? If there is, how many types of love do you think there are in the world? I believe what I feel for you is love, but I'm not sure anymore. What if it's something completely different, that emotional bond between a brother and a sister?

There are so many questions I want to ask, but I know you don't have the answer for them. I don't think anybody does, really.

I've sent you some canola seeds with this letter. A Frenchman named Alphonse helped me gather them from one of the many canola fields around Fort Espoir. Please plant them for Jax and me. We've spent so many days staring at them, and wondering how long it will be until the fields are covered with blood; ours or theirs. It doesn't matter. Spilled blood is still spilled blood in these lands.

That day is getting close. Elmer and I are certain of it. These hopeless battles are finally drawing to an end, and if we can't stop them, we'll definitely die trying. I don't know if there will be any more letters home. I don't want to scare you, Kite, but I don't want it to be a shock, either. War is a truly unpredictable force.

Please take care of yourself, no matter what happens. I love you, Kite. I think.

Your brother, Dudley