Sagara is drunk and writing a greetings.
12/12/2006 Another battlefield
Its wonderful evening,so I'm starting to write and wine gave me a strength.
God is my witness, that i liked you - at that time he perhaps was.
Your letters, i read all of them thousands of times, in them was written, as i sleep in your lap.
But with last vacation world fragmented, in which i don't left you.
Then at the train, you - outland woman!
Forgive me, that i lied.
I still hear your desirable moaning...
I shred your photo.
I wont come, never in that side path to you.
You know, I'm now here and you there.
Beside the hole in the mud, I'm asking myself, and answering myself...
...why at the train you stood and smiled at me, you and your mother, older outland lady.
Child's room? Laugh! After evenings silence.
The conversations are hitching, well i have empty soul.
Memories only hurts, no matter what are they.
Lost key ... Already gone...
I want to come back, not get lost here.
Front is luring back, home for soldier.
When the ground is jagged by kisses of cannons and whistling is cutting the air, heretic, what wanted to the hell for delusion of color ribbons, is writing to you.
For this moment, i can't lie and run away like a little boy.
Let someone else knock at your gate - i overlooked the sound of bugle.
When it blow us to the fight, then its something.
Hate and love - ground around is crackling.
Flames are having good time when they play with us.
Then calm again and we can go, everyone to his hole without god and trust.
From recruits, only gang of boars!
Have a good time and wish something, before the sky will fall and all living will end.
So i post you the greetings from front.
Fire slowly died. Wine is strong and warm gun ports, will embrace me with love when i fall asleep...
(12/13/2006; confiscated by Sgt. Major Mao)
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"You wanted to post that letter!" Major said
"Letter...?" Terrible headache was attacking his brain.
"What letter?"