This is a special chapter, so it will contain three letters in it. To make sense of it, the final two crossed each other in the mail, so though the last may have been written at an earlier date than the second, it's in the order of...*blanks on how to word it* *running on no sleep* If you don't get it, just comment your question or saying that you don't understand and I'll try to explain it better~
Once more, thank you so much for all of your kind comments and favourites :)
26 October 1942
Alfred,
I'm terribly sorry I took a little longer to reply, I've been busy and have had much on my mind lately. I found it difficult to sit down and organize my thoughts enough to write...but regardless, I'm very happy to hear your doing well.
That's really a pity, I would have liked to come and see you. Yes, it's kind of a swing song, you can easily dance to it.
I've actually seen a few mummy's. They are peculiar things, all dry and shriveled up. I've learned how they are made too, it's a horribly interesting process, one that I don't think I would ever want any part of. They are rather ugly things, but at the same time, endlessly facinating.
I can speak some Gaelic. Not as much as my brothers and sister though. My sister lives in Northern Ireland with her husband. I also have a cousin in Hong Kong. We aren't really a close knit family, I must admit. You don't know? I should like to imagine you do. You would make a fine older brother, I think.
I think I would like America. The land of oppurtunity, as it were? Not at all ravaged by war. It must be so peaceful there...I wonder if it's anything like England...it must be right? Only bigger, such wide open spaces there. Where have you lived in America? What's your favorite place?
Stay safe,
Arthur Kirkland
P.S. Yes, I think you'll tower over me when you come home *scratched out* back. Shall I make you new trousers? *clearly teasing*
P.P.S I'M NOT! WELL I AM, BUT IT'S ONLY NATURAL THAT I WORRY! ...OH SHUT IT! *illegible*
Angels can fly because they carry no burdens.
...
November 1, 1942
Arthur,
It's totally fine! They've totally started pushing us harder in training so I havent had much time to write either! I was totally getting worried that you were getting bored of writing to me though and werent gonna send me another letter so i'm really glad that you did!
Awesome! I look forward to hearing the song!
You have? Ive never gotten the chance to see one but i really want to. Can you imagine all the history they make up? Or how old they are! Do they look human at all still? Or like aliens? Are all of the bones still in it? Don't they stick a rod or stick or somthing up their noses and mix around the brains and make them all run out?
THAT'S AWESOME! I can only speak American. Oh, I know a few words in German and Russian to. And some Italian. But those are only a couple words. You have a cousin in china to? Wow. There are alot of you! No, i dont know. Dad died when I was a little kid and I don't know if my mother is alive or not still. So they sent me to the orphanage! You think i would? I guess I kind of am. I used to take care of all of the younger kids there so i guess I sort of DO have a lot of little brothers and sisters!
Dude! You'd totally LOVE America! It's the best country ever! Not that I dont like England but America is totaly the best! It's realy beautiful, and the sky is almost always blue! I've really only been to New York. I joined the military on my 18th birthday and was going to do some traveling around the country when i got out or hopefully during it! My favorite place though is this little spot by the docks in Brooklyn. Id really like to take you there someday!
I'm totally always safe!
Airman Alfred F. Jones
PS. I totally already am taller than you!
PPS. What was that? I totally couldnt read your handwriting!
…..
*Found by a certain visiting Frenchman and sent*
*Crosses Alfred's November 1 letter in the mail*
28 October 1942
Alfred F. Jones,
I don't intend to send this...I don't even know why I'm writing it. To clear my head, perhaps, I don't rightly know. It's absurd really, to care and worry so much for someone you hardly know, perhaps it's because I hardly know you that I care and worry. I care because I can't help but to do so, and I worry, because I'm scared I may not get the chance to know you. To find out more about you. Is that odd at all? Perhaps so.
It's rather ridiculous really, you're technically aren't even at war now, only training, and I'm terrified I might not get another letter from you. That something may happen to you. I imagine I'll be a right mess when you actually do ship out to Germany. I say Germany, because I utterly refuse to acknowlodge the idea that you may go to the Pacific. That's too far. Too much could happen. My cousin tells me of all the atrocities that happen there...I wonder if it's as bad in europe.
I've heard rumors. Things so terrible I cannot put them to paper...
I'm horribly scared for you, and I have as suspicion as to why...only...I don't want to admit it...would you speak to me if you knew?
You mention my eyes in your letters. But you know, I find your's much more beautiful. A blue, I've never seen before. I fancy that's the color of the sky, so far above the clouds. A blue that I only get glimpses of on those rare sunny days, those days remind me of you. I've met americans before. Charming blondes with sparkling blue eyes, like you...but only you have ever just embodied that American spirit I hear so much about. I think, if America were a person, it would be you. Likewise, if you were a country, you would be America.
I find...I am terribly drawn to that american spirit. That drive to be so exceptional, that pride and that complete and utter freedom. And I feel it is something I will never have as my own, as much as I want it. There is something so new and fresh about you Americans, that something that I am so utterly attracted to, and you just personify that idea. That american way. Like it's all bottled up inside you, and I just want to take it and keep it. Not from you. Never from you. I just want it.
It's strange, I don't feel torn between my love for America and my pride for England. Only, terribly confused, but at the same time content and scared that I may lose that vision I have of you. I don't want to lose that, but is it really mine to lose if I don't even have it?
Do you see how scattered my thoughts are?
I shall lock this letter in the drawer and forget about it. Maybe one day, years from now I'll find it again and laugh at how silly I was to think like this. But for now, I'm quickly growing to love you. More than any friend has a right to and I'm such a stupid fool I can't tell you.
With foolish, unfounded love,
Arthur Kirkland
"A mighty pain to love it is,
And 'tis a pain that pain to miss;
But of all pains, the greatest pain
It is to love, but love in vain."
— Abraham Cowley