January 1st, 1863

Dear Winry,

It's so cold out as I am writing this, but my thoughts of you warm my heart and keep me warm. I want so badly to go back to our warm home and run in the fields and laugh with you like when we used to do as children on nice summer days, but that won't happen. I saw hell on the battlefield today, we all did. It happened so fast all around me I didn't realize I was wounded until I was on the ground in pain.

I was running next to my friend Russell trying to drown out all the cries and screams of the wounded men falling around us and tried to focus so I wouldn't get hit. Blood stained the field from all those that were wounded, dying, or dead, then Russell got shot. I was only distracted for a moment when I realized he was dead, but sometime in that moment I got shot too. Next thing I know I'm on the ground screaming because of the pain and holding my bleeding leg.

Now as I'm writing this to you from the field hospital I'm looking at what was my left leg, but is now a bandaged stump. I suppose I should count myself lucky, after all I'm alive and will be coming home now that I can't fight anymore, but I won't be able to take those long walks with you like I used to without using a crutch or wheelchair, and I won't be able to run with our little Sarah either.

I got a letter from Al a little while ago from Bull Run. He saw hell on the field too, and he says he'll say hi to mom for me up in heaven, or what ever the afterlife is.. He wants to be buried next to her, so as soon as I get back that's what I'm going to do. So many people have died in this horrible war Winry, but why did Al have to be one of them? If god exists then why is all this happening? Why did they have to kill my one and only little brother? I've come to the conclusion that god doesn't exist and that's why we're all living hell right now. Tell our Sarah I'll be home soon, and that what happened to her uncle Al.

-Your Love,Ed.

P.S. Please have that old wheel chair in the shed ready for me.

There were already tear drops on the letter when she opened it, but as she read it more of them fell. Alphonse was gone, her childhood friend and brother in law was dead. He had been servilely wounded in battle and was told he wouldn't make it, so he wrote his last letter to his older brother. There was no doubt that Ed would fall into depression after all this if he hadn't already. Would she be able to help him through it? Would their four year old daughter Sarah notice? She never got to know, because he came back in a coffin. It had been a surprise attack, and Ed wasn't able to get away without his leg.

The war had killed them both in the end, just like it had taken so many other lives.

Author's Notes

I wrote the letter for English class, and I liked it so I edited it to fit FMA. I hope you guys like it, and I'm sorry if Ed seemed a little OOC. The Facts: The battle of Stone took place on 12/31/1862 in Tennessee (24,645 casualties). Sorry it was short, but that's all I have for this story.

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