To: My dear wife Mrs. Gates Being here is torture. I quite a littlet even so detect my own heathland all told I feel is pain. My coat of arms are so stiff, and my legs are week and brittle my patronise is sore and forefront is heavy. I dont dwell how much perennial I wad fight. Sometimes I feel wish taking my riffle, putting it up to my result and pulling the trigger, moreover then that would mean I failed my relegating to fight for our country. everyplace I turn I go over doomed bo drop deads, I dont crawl in if I will forthlast through this war. The rats here are horrible theyre so huge and only count out at night. They encounter like little devils postponement to feed on the dead. I pick up neer killed a man since now, Will beau ideal discharge me? Does he understand its for the good of the farming? withal if he does forgive me I dont weigh I could forgive myself. Many custody have dead from the hands of me, If I dont hire them out they will take me out. Watching someone die was the hardest topic Ive ever had to, but now its like a mentally ill routine. At night all I can gain vigor is the screaming of the wounded and dieing soldiers, the loud bombs way out transfer and the mental disturbance of running.
I try and close my eyes to residuum and all I can see are the men I murdered trying to plead with me. Am i going crazy? I gotten use to the noise, I cant even remember what quietness sounds like. I will never get use to the olfactory property, I dont even know the last time Ive had a shower. The smell here is worst then a folk effective of rotten c heese and milk. All we eat here is... ! If you pauperism to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com
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