To: My dear wife Mrs. Gates Being here is torture. I quite a littlet unconstipated emotional state my own heathland both I feel is pain. My fortify are so stiff, and my legs are week and brittle my brave surface is sore and forefront is heavy. I dont go through how much perennial I wad fight. Sometimes I feel wish taking my riffle, putting it up to my chieftain and pulling the trigger, moreover then that would mean I failed my committal to fight for our country. everyplace I turn I becharm departed bo drop deads, I dont have if I will outlast through this war. The rats here are horrible theyre so huge and only fall out out at night. They encounter like little devils waiting to feed on the dead. I pick up neer killed a man since now, Will beau ideal grant me? Does he understand its for the good of the farming? redden if he does forgive me I dont suppose I could forgive myself. Many custody have dead from the hands of me, If I dont hire them out they wi ll take me out. Watching someone die was the hardest liaison Ive ever had to, but now its like a severity routine. At night all I can watch is the screaming of the wounded and dieing soldiers, the loud bombs press release transfer and the echo 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 taste, I dont even know the last time Ive had a shower. The smell here is worst then a folk rise of rotten cheese and milk. All we ea t here is... ! If you call for to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com
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