This chapter is me trying out something new. Let me know how you like it :) Brownie points to anyone who knows what inspired me to this (the title is a clue).

On another note: There won't be an update next week. I'll have my hands full working on my bachelor thesis... Hope you understand. But the week after that, I should hopefully be back to a normal schedule with updates on Wednesdays.

Dear Mom and Dad, dear David and Fabian

Thank you for your last letter. It was great reading news from home while we were marching all over Normandy (or at least it felt like it), fighting the Krauts nearly every day and having no idea of what's going on in other places. There are a lot of rumors, but often, nothing concrete.

I have news, too. We are finally off the front lines! You know how they told us that we would be relieved after 4 days of fighting? Well, that obviously didn't happen. No surprise there.

But now, we're back in England. We got all our back pay, two new uniforms AND a 7-day pass. I'm actually writing this letter from London. We're the first ones back and everybody is so welcoming. They treat us like heroes and there's plenty of food and drink around.

Unfortunately, I also have bad news. Elizabeth, my best friend, has been missing ever since the jump and a few days ago, it was confirmed that the plane she'd been in had been shot down before anyone could get out. I miss her, but I promised that I'd kill as many Germans for her as possible. And I've had lots of opportunity to avenge her.

We – that is the girls and I - have also written to her family, even though I know Elizabeth wasn't close to them. We just thought maybe they would appreciate hearing from a friend of hers instead of getting a form telegram and letter from the War Department. We all promised to do this should something happen to one of us.

I have to go; my friends are calling me. I miss you all very much and I am looking forward to hearing from you, soon. David and Fabian, I hope you don't give Mom and Dad too much trouble. I'm proud of you boys and keep up the good work in school, you're doing great.

Lots of love

Jess

Dear Sam

I hope this letter finds you well. How have you been? It has been a while since I last heard from you, but I imagine the Air Force isn't much quicker with delivering mail than the Army. And you're possibly just busy. Lord knows I have been these past few weeks. I would have to think very long and very hard to remember the last time I got some proper rest.

But I expect that will soon be remedied. We've been pulled off the line a few days ago and have been shipped back to England! We all received a seven-day pass, so I have more than enough time to sleep and relax. Most of our company stepped off the transport and got right onto the train to London, but I didn't join. They might call it R&R or fun, but I didn't see the appeal in a week-long celebration. I decided to stay on base and just enjoy the peace and quiet for a while.

Thank you for the puzzles you sent me last time. I didn't have much time to look at them, but I keep them on me because you know how it is – sometimes, your biggest worry aren't bullets or shells, but plain old boredom. You'll find that I have returned the favour and sent you a few puzzles, too. I hope they keep you entertained during a lull.

Be safe, dear brother, and don't forget which way is up.

Your sister

Reese

My dearest Warren

It's good to hear that you are well and I am so happy for you and your father that business is flourishing. Mother sounded quite concerned in her last letter, she mentioned that you seemed troubled and withdrawn when she last saw you and worried that you might have taken ill.

For my part, I am doing well, too. More than well, in fact. We have finally been taken off the front lines and have returned to England. We arrived yesterday and since we were all given a seven-day pass as well as our back pay, the majority of my company – or battalion even – have decided to head straight to London to celebrate our safe return.

And so, I find myself writing to you amidst the laughter and merrymaking of my friends. The locals have given us a heroes' welcome and I'm afraid that there is quite a number of massive hangovers impending in the near future. Oh well, I do believe we more than deserve to have a bit of fun. The past few weeks have been tough and we are all just happy to be alive and healthy.

Please give my best to your parents and your sister Penelope. Also, please make sure to extend my congratulations to Penny for her nuptials and my sincerest well-wishes. May she enjoy a long and happy marriage.

I love you very much, my dearest Warren, and not a day has gone by that I haven't thought of you. Often was your face the last thing I saw before I fell asleep.

Yours

Maxine

Dear Mrs Griffith

My name is Frances Shea and I am writing to you in the name of the women of Easy Company. By now, you have most likely been informed by the War Department that your daughter, Helen, has been killed. We are all truly sorry for your loss and wanted to offer our condolences. In basic training, us women made a promise to write to each other's families should something happen to us.

Helen and I were good friends and she spoke very fondly of you. Your daughter got along with everyone in the company. Many times, her sense of humour and witty comments made us laugh until our sides hurt. She often joked about how she must be either stupid or crazy to have signed up for the paratroopers since she was afraid of heights. Let me tell you, Ms Griffith, Helen was far from stupid. Crazy? Maybe a little, but I think all of us are. Because really, who in their right mind would sign up to jump out of moving airplanes?

In the envelope, there is another letter, written by Helen. I don't know when she wrote it, but she mailed it to one of the local women she had made friends with for safe-keeping.

We all miss Helen and we will keep her jokes and relaxed smiles in our memory.

Yours sincerely

Frances Shea, Jessica Helak, Theresa Nolan, Ana María Hernandez, Louise Fields, Mia Arricante, Catherine Wilson, Maxine Lloyd

Liebe Mama, Lieber Papa

Lieber Jonas und Sebastian, Liebe Katharina und Letizia

I hope you are all healthy and happy. I'm okay. Sleep-deprived, but unhurt. We aren't on the front lines anymore! They promised us that we would only have to fight for 3 days and 3 nights, but in the end, we were in France for almost 4 weeks.

The drop into Normandy was terrifying. We received airsickness pills just before we took off, which is odd because we have never had a problem with airsickness before. The pills made me feel strange, tired and dizzy.

That didn't help on the actual jump. It was pitch dark except for the flashes of the anti-aircraft gunfire, tracer ammunition and burning planes. It was so loud and confusing. I landed alone, had lost a lot of my gear and had of course no weapons. I don't remember it that clearly, especially not what came after that. It's all very hazy. The next clear memory I have is trying to figure out where I was, but that was close to noon.

Have you heard something from Aunt Sophie? How is she holding up? I hope Uncle Stephan and Rolf and Adrian are alright.

I love you all and already look forward to your letter.

Alles Liebe

Mia

Dearest Roger

I'm sorry that I couldn't write any sooner. A lot has happened and mail doesn't get delivered too quickly around here. I hope you are doing okay and that everything is alright back home. Hopefully, Gwen and Tommy aren't giving you and Gillian too much trouble?

I miss you very much, my love. Now that we're back in England (after nearly a month on the front lines), I suddenly have time to dwell on these thoughts and feelings of homesickness and longing. I'll try not to let them overwhelm me. Though I'm sure that the Army will do its part in helping me with that... This won't be the last we've seen of this war and I'm sure training will resume as soon as the week is up and everyone is back.

War is both just like I imagined it and completely different. I don't really know how to explain it. It is loud and dirty and frightening, terrible, chaotic and brutal. But, I hardly dare say it, there are also good things that come from it. Being in battle has forged our company together even closer and it has inspired some heroic and incredible actions. Though some of them might also be considered reckless and insane.

I think you can guess that I don't really know what to say. I boarded that plane on the eve of D-Day, hoping to survive but not expecting it. The drop was a mess and it took me nearly a day to find my company's assembly area. So many of us didn't make it. Then, with all the fighting we did, I was surprised every time that I hadn't been injured or killed. Fast forward three weeks and here I am, back across the Channel.

Tell Gwen and Tommy that I love and miss them very much. I'm very proud of them and I loved their last letter and picture. I hope, the two are doing well. Give my little moppets a big kiss and cuddle from me. I'll be sending along a parcel with gifts for all of you. I couldn't exactly spend four days in London with all my backpay in my pocket and not buy anything for my family, could I?

Lots of love and kisses

Your Catherine

Queridos Mamá y Papá, queridos Julia y Joaquín

A lot has happened since I last had time to write. We fought the Germans, spent many nights in foxholes and cleared town after town. We lost a lot of good men and we lost four good women, too. Elizabeth, Irene, Helen and Kathleen. I spoke a prayer for them when we heard the news and I wanted to ask if you could light a candle for them next Sunday?

But not everything is bad. We had a mascot for a while. His name was Bert and he was a tiny white kitten. Hoobler had found him one day, all dirty and alone. Sadly, we couldn't keep him for long because kittens don't belong in a company of paratroopers. So we left Bert with the children of a local farmer. They were quite happy to have a new pet, though, so I think he'll be perfectly fine.

We have returned to England yesterday and it is so good to be back. The peaceful, friendly town is like a patch of Heaven. Most of my company are up in London, celebrating life now that we are back safe and healthy. I didn't join them because all I wanted to do was sleep. And I wouldn't have had much chance to do that in London. I would have been too busy eating, drinking and dancing.

I miss you all terribly and I hope you are all doing well. Julia, Joaquín, give Mamá and Papá a big hug from me, will you?

Con todo mi amor,

Ana

Dear Mr Pletcher

My name is Maxine Lloyd and I am writing to you on behalf of the women in Easy Company. We have never met, but I had the honour of serving with your wife, Irene. I am deeply sorry for your loss, Irene was a wonderful woman. She was smart and well-liked, a brilliant athlete and a respected squad leader.

We all loved Irene for her dedication and skill, for her honesty and friendliness. She was calm under pressure and always knew when to be strict and when to be lenient. She truly was a born leader. We will all miss her dearly.

Please accept our sincerest condolences and we hope it gives you a small measure of comfort that we can honestly say that knowing your wife was a pleasure, an honour and a privilege.

Yours sincerely

Maxine Lloyd, Frances Shea, Louise Fields, Catherine Wilson, Jessica Helak, Mia Arricante, Ana María Hernandez, Theresa Nolan

Dear Dad, dear Andrew

How are you? Is Aunt Lola still on your case about finding a nice girl, Andy? How is Uncle Archie's 'business' going? I hope he's keeping out of trouble.

Well, on our end, things are looking up. We've been taken off the front lines – hallelujah! We're back in England and right now, I am in London, surrounded by my friends and what looks like all the alcohol and food the city has to offer. It's a lot like our family gatherings, only in uniform and with far less magic tricks.

Have you ever thought about how many things we take for granted? I realised that when I took my first shower in more days than I can count after we moved to a field camp. I don't think I have ever enjoyed a shower this much.

Dad, you said in your last letter that I was vague in my response when you asked if I hate the Germans. Let me see if I can put it a bit more clearly. I hate that the enemy soldiers killed many of my friends. I hate that Hitler has brought death and destruction to so many people. But do I hate the German people as a whole? No. I can't judge an entire population based on the actions of some of them. Besides, one of my friends, Mia Arricante, grew up in Germany. If anything, she's living proof that not all Germans are evil.

In any case, I hope that this war is soon over. Please tell Uncle Archie and Aunt Lola I said hi and that I'm doing well. Give my best to Flora and Rachel.

Love

Frances

Dear Gramps,

Dear Hazel, Jimmy, Anna, Melvin and Charlie

Guess what? I haven't died and now we're back in England. Finally. I wish I could say I got through the whole operation without a scratch on me, but then I'd be lying. No need to worry, though, it wasn't too serious. I just caught some shrapnel in the shoulder. It smarted quite a bit, but it's healing nicely and I'll be right as rain in no time at all. Especially since we all got a seven-day pass and I'm fully planning on spending much of that time asleep or at least resting.

The drop on D-Day was positively dreadful. I almost landed in a flooded field, though I had more luck than my friend Theresa. She landed smack-dab in the middle of one. It took me a few hours to reach our assembly area and as soon as I got there, we moved out again. We were a squad of twelve or thirteen, but orders had come down to capture some German cannons firing upon the beach. It sounds completely mad, but thanks to our CO's tactical brilliance, we did it.

I could fill many a page if I detailed every crazy, reckless and hare-brained stunt and scheme that members of my unit – including the officers! – have pulled. But I figured that it would be futile anyway, what with the censors and all. Oh well, I'll write down one of them and send it with this letter. Let me know how much it resembles a doily when it reaches you.

Take care of yourselves and don't forget to say hello to Gran for me when you visit her next.

Love

Louise

Dear Mr and Mrs Preston

My name is Mia Arricante and I am writing to you about your daughter, Kathleen. By now, you have probably been informed of her death. We, the women of Easy Company, wanted to offer you our sincerest condolences. We are very sorry for your loss. Kathleen was one of us and we miss her.

Your daughter was a great woman, Mr and Mrs Preston. She was smart and well-read, friendly and funny. She always had at least one book with her and she was always happy to talk about it. I'm sure you know how Kathleen sometimes accidentally said something a bit tactless or insensitive. Whenever that happened, she would quickly apologise and laugh about how you, Mr Preston, would always say that she lacked a filter between her brain and mouth.

I won't burden you with the details of Kathleen's death unless you wish to know. However, her last thoughts were of you, as were her last words. She asked me to tell you that she loves you very much, that she's sorry to cause you pain and that she's going to a happy place.

It was an honour and a privilege to serve with your daughter. I'm sure that wherever Kathleen is now, she is happy and most likely surrounded by the books she loves so much.

Yours sincerely

Mia Arricante, Louise Fields, Ana María Hernandez, Catherine Wilson, Maxine Lloyd, Frances Shea, Theresa Nolan, Jessica Helak