Dear Peggy,

It's me, your loving husband. I know I usually say faithful husband, but I'm afraid I can't write that anymore.
You see, a couple nights ago me and my buddy Hawkeye were in Tokyo on R&R. We stopped at a popular bar to have a few shots. I landed a stool right next to a woman from the 8063rd who was also on R&R. She was already pretty drunk, but I obligingly bought more bourbon for her.
Well, one thing led to another, and before I knew it, we were drunkenly making love to each other in the back room. I'm telling you this because you deserve to know, and I would do anything, ANYTHING, to regain your trust in me. This woman meant absolutely nothing to me.
I didn't really remember what happened until Hawkeye clued me in. He told me about it in the jeep. We were heading back, and I had completely forgotten that nurse, even her name. God forbid I ever remember it.
I went to Father Mulcahy about it, and he said the best thing for me to do would be to tell you the truth.
This letter is an apology, coming from the bottom of my heart.
Peggy, you're the girl for me. Always have been, always will. You're incomparable.

Love,
BJ

PS-Would you care about me any less if I grew a moustache?