All grammatical errors and spelling mistakes are intentional to make things feel more "authentic." I do not own anything from Saving Private Ryan. Thank you.

2 February 1943

Camp Forrest, Tullahoma, TN

Dear Bonnie,

Don't you ever apologize for sending me a long letter. That's the best part of my week. How else am I gonna keep up my literacy, huh? All Tommy ever sends is old Dick Tracy comics and his opinions on them. Which I also love, don't get me wrong. Golly, I know the kid's only 9! But I guess my point is I like your "long" letters. My explainin needs some work, I know.

It seems that you tellin me to stop worrying would be just about as pointless as me tellin you the same thing. Maybe we're too alike that way. I'll always worry about y'all, even if I was in the same dang room as y'all. You're stuck with me, Bon. Might as well face it. But since there's no point saying stop that, let's just agree not to talk about it all the time. That work? Save our paper and ink for happier things.

Like our garden. How's it doing? I never thought about just how much time we spend out there until now that I can't just go whenever I want. You given any thought to what you'll plant come springtime? I was thinkin it might be nice to add something new to those annuals we already got going. Maybe something nice and bright yellow? I don't really care what kind it is, but yellow sure would look beautiful out there, wouldn't it?

You know what else would be really nice right about now? A great big mug of Mama's hot cocoa. I don't know why that came to mind just now. Do me a favor and next time she makes it, have an extra for me. And when she scolds you, because we both know she probably will because "Ain't no one needs that much chocolate, you crazy child!" you can honestly tell her I asked you to. You got written proof. I bet she'd let it slide. Now I'm curious. Let me know how it goes, will ya?

Now who's the one writing a book? I'll let you go, seeing as I'm sure you've got schoolwork to ace. I love you and miss you, little sis.

Your brother,

Danny

P.S., How's Mary Johnson? Y'all are close, right?

February 10, 1943

Cedar Hill, TN

Dear Danny,

Well, I'll be! I think that may just be the longest letter you've ever written in your life. Your hand don't hurt, does it? Might want to get that checked out. I'm just joshing you! Another thing we have in common, we both love long letters. Add it to the list! Oh, and I guess I'm partly to blame for all the Dick Tracy. Mama still doesn't trust Tommy with the scissors after that horrid curtain disaster this past autumn (I actually find the entire situation entertaining now, just because it's so ridiculous) so he has me cut them out of the newspaper for him. He says it's because y'all used to read them together and he doesn't want you to fall behind on the adventures. The kid's adorable sometimes, really, when he puts his mind to it.

As for the garden, how about some daffodils? If I can get my hands on any, that is. I've always thought those were pretty and they smell nice, plus you'd have your yellow. How come we've never planted any before? I can't wait for winter to be over so I can get back out there to do more than think or to use the swing. I tend to think maybe a little bit too much these days.

Hot cocoa, Daniel, really? You know Mama only makes that once or twice a winter. Now you've got me craving some and with my luck, she won't make it again till December! But you are right, it sounds absolutely delicious about now. Also, I'm not sure that, "Danny asked me to," would qualify as reason enough in her book to allow a second cup, but I guess for you I'll take a whack at it. We'll see.

I love you, Danny, and miss you always. Can't wait to hear from you again soon.

All my love,

Bonnie

P.S., Mary Johnson is my best friend. You know that, you idiot. And I know you're sweet on her, so don't pretend. I'm positive she'd be delighted to hear from you.

P.P.S., That was a hint, just in case you missed it.