Chapter XII:

Marie,

I used to sit around after a battle and revel in the fight. It used to be fun to grab hold of the enemy and rip him to pieces with my bare hands. You never look your enemy in the eye, darlin'. That's the first thing they teach you. You look them in the eye, you start to have sympathy for them. You know why? Cuz you can relate to them. You see the fear in their eyes, you see the sudden urge flooding through them, the need to survive. The fear is literally dripping from them.Fear's a strong sense... sometimes nauseating... especially when you can smell the fear twenty miles away. You see a whole life through a man's eyes. You see the family he left behind, the things he's never had the chance to do... and you get caught, because you realize that he's just like you. He's got someone waiting at home for him. You realize he's got dreams and aspirations same as the next guy. So you focus on something else... the nose, the lips maybe... or even something lower than the face. But never the eyes.

I looked someone in the eye today. Had the guy by the throat, had him three feet off the air... almost gone. Then I looked into his eyes. God Marie, I looked... and all I could see was you. The need to come out of this thing alive has never been so strong in me before. It's been three months since I've seen you... three damn months! It's funny, sitting around here, swapping war stories, and I actually feel guilty. I can remember the look of each guy after they dropped dead from my hands. I remember the surge of pleasure that came each time a man fell after I pulled the trigger of a gun. And you know what? I was sick, and I was disgusted. Disgusted in myself, mostly. What normal human being takes pleasure in dominating over another human and taking his life away? What right have I to play God? Dammit Marie, I'm so confused. Suddenly, I'm looking through someone else's eyes. Maybe yours. Maybe I'm seeing war the way you'd see it. I dunno.

Heard there's trouble down where you are. You steer clear of it, y'here me? Don't go asking to get transfered or anything. Stay put til this war ends an' I can come get you. Shouldn't be long now. The Germans are running around in circles, backing themselves into a corner.

Take care darlin',

Logan

Time away from Logan had been torture. She tried to busy herself with her work, but it was no use. Every moment of every day she thought of him. It had been three months now, just as his letter had reminded her. Three months to the day. God, she still thought often of their last moments together. It made her wonder if he heard her. The noise was horrendous, the trucks starting, the wind blowing, and somewhere in the middle of it all, it'd begun to rain. Marie knew that the chances of his hearing her were slim, but she could hope.

The letters were a comfort. He sent them whenever he could. She'd received the first about a week after he'd left, and so it continued up until that very day. She hated thinking of him in the horrible conditions always accompanying war. Knee high mud from the rain soaked trenches. Long, sleepless, foodless nights spent with eyes wide open to be sure the enemy could not pull off a surprise attack. It made her worry all the more for his safety. She never doubted, though, that he would return there in good time. He had promised her, and he would keep that promise. He was different. Millions of men made the same promises earlier on, when leaving their home, and had failed to keep that promise. He was different. He'd keep it. She knew it!