A Field-Hospital in England

The battle had taken Anna to places she had never imagined. As a nurse, she had witnessed far too much suffering and grief. Despite the fact that James had been gone for nearly twenty-five years, her recollections of him remained vivid. His letters had ended, and she was left in silence. He had vanished into the fog of war, just like so many others.

But today, when she was walking into the hospital tent, a soldier stopped her. "Ma'am, this is for you. It was discovered in a former post office in France. The date is from the last war."

Her hands trembled as she took the old, yellow envelope. The writing was apparent. She pressed it to her chest before gathering the bravery to open it.

And then, as the world erupted around her, James' words finally reached her, like a whisper through time. A love is never lost, just delayed. Tears distorted the letters as she traced his name with her fingertips, finally hearing his voice after so many years.

He left, but for a little while, he was with her again.

And in that instant, the war faded and love triumphed.

1917—Somewhere in France

My dear Anna,

As I sit in this trench, with the cold eating through my uniform, all I can think of is you. The sound of artillery shakes the ground beneath me, but nothing can drown out the memory of your voice and the warmth of your touch. I'm writing to you with quivering hands, not from fear, but from longing. Every moment away from you is a lost moment, but I keep the promise that we shall be together again.

The days here are limitless, and the nights are even longer. I fantasize about our home, how the morning sun shines through the drapes, pouring golden light on your hair. I recall our walks by the river, your laughter resounding through the air. My love, if only I could close my eyes and wake up next to you instead of hearing gunfire.

I remember our neighbor from Little Harborne, where we both grew up. There was an old house that always seemed so dark and filled us with fear as children. I never knew the man who lived there had a son, but now, here in the trenches, I’ve met him—Frank. We have become friends, bonded over our shared love of chess. He told me he used to watch us play in the street, wishing he could join, but he had to stay inside and study. He always felt envious of us, though I find that hard to believe because he is such a kind person. Interestingly, he ended up marrying someone from our hometown—Suzie Miller.

I need to focus my strength on my mission here, even if I do not truly understand what we are doing in this place. On Christmas Eve, something unbelievable happened—we had dinner together with those we were told were our enemies. We sat side by side, shared food, laughed, and even drank together. The cold, harsh battlefield became a place of warmth as we danced in the mud and snow, forgetting, if only for a moment, the war that loomed over us. We exchanged addresses, as if there would be a future beyond this. It felt unreal. We are all human beings, yet tomorrow, we will be forced to fight again. When we lit our small Christmas tree, we sang Silent Night together, our voices carrying through the stillness. I don’t know what to say or feel, but knowing you are there keeps me alive. That is all I need for now.

We'll move forward tomorrow. I'm not sure what awaits me, but I want you to know that I love you more than life itself. If fate is unkind, remember me for the love we shared rather than the sadness we experienced. You are my light, my strength, and my everything.

Forever yours.

James