Don't mourn me, Mother, for I'm happy I died fighting my country's enemies, and I will live forever in people's minds. I've done what I've always dreamed of. Don't mourn me, for I died a soldier of the United States of America. God bless you all and take care. I'll be seeing you in heaven. -Private Hiram D. Strickland About a month after his personal effects had ben sent home, some of his buddies found a notebook beside his bed. It had been overlooked because it had fallen by the side of his tent. On the pad, in Pfc. Strickland's own handwriting, was the letter from which this passage was taken.
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Mom,
The mail service over here is really annoying. It took only four days for me to get your last few letters, yet sometimes it takes a week or longer.
Anyway, I'm glad that Uncle Jacob is coming to live with you and Bernie. I'm pretty sure he will help out Bernie. I mean look at Ted. He's well on his way to becoming a fine lawyer. And Christina is doing well, too, married to Anthony as she is.
I'm eagerly waiting for my first newspaper to arrive. It will be a well received dose of the world. Letters from you and Bernie are wonderful, but I'd also like another piece, too. Cards would be nice, thank you. I also can't wait for more books. This time maybe I should read them slower so they'll last longer, instead of barely a week.
Mom, as far as raising me and Bernie goes, you've done a great job. There are times when I wished I had a father, but you can't blame yourself for any of it. I love the childhood I had, and even though I know that this war, more than anything, is stealing my last moments of it, I can live and grow into a man content with the life I've had so far. If anything, I think I might have an advantage over others because of the way I raised. I know we've always joked about how much you worry, but this is something you really shouldn't worry about. And you're not going to lose me. I'm going to come home.
I'm coming home.
Your loving son,
John