Dear Andrew,
It is so good to hear from you, I know it has been a while since you have sent your letter and I have responded, but things are a little tricky here and sometimes it's hard for the post to get to us.
"Smyth, is the post coming in today?" John had just gotten out 8 hours of surgery on men from everything from bullet wounds from enemies to fevers from lack of water.
"Not today, WH, we are moving out tonight and can't have our current position given away, we need no repeat of that." Smyth shook his head at the reminder of the disaster that was there last close encounter when the message hadn't gotten to the mail deliverers to not come, their arrival lead to their location being reviled to the spies hiding in the hills. It had messy and John had worked his longest hours that night.
"Of course, thanks, Smyth." John didn't try to hide the disappointment from his face, Sherlock had always told him he was a bad liar anyway, which was funny since he could lie when he needed to.
"What are you waiting on, WH?" Russell, another medic, inferior to John, asked as he started to clean the blood off his hands form his equally long and grueling shift.
"A letter," Russell rolled his eyes at the obvious statement, "from Andrew, and possibly Sherlock given he is still alive and hasn't starved himself in the name of science."
The guys around him quieted, giving John a moment to collect his thoughts and emotions for his family. Most of the guys there only had girlfriends at most, a couple were married, but not for too long and with no kids.
"Hey, WH, after this next move we get internet." John perked up at Smyth's words, "I'll make sure you are first on the list."
John thanked him and made his way to the bunk that he shared with Russell.
I hope your Father is eating and sleeping properly, if he isn't try to slip some sleeping medicine into his tea or food and that will knock him out like a light; then you will finally have some peace and quiet. How is every one? I am sure Mrs. Hudson has been hovering more than your Father would like, and when she does start to get a bit down have her sit in her favorite chair, cover her with that quilt you got her, and hand her a cup of tea. That should do the trick.
You Father on the other hand is a little more complicated to calm since he tries to insist that he is fine in all meanings of the word, which you and I both know he is not. When he gets to his absolute worse tell him to look underneath my side of our bed, what I have left there might help.
"WH! WH, we are heading out soon, you got to wake up!" Russell came through the tent flap with a giant smile on his face as he plopped down onto his cot.
"What are you so chipper about?" John asked sleepily as he forced himself to sit up and start lacing up his boots.
"Oh, nothing, nothing at all. What is there to be happy about only that our look through this far out area is over and we get to go back to a some-what civilization, well as civilized as it can be with those loons out there." John stood and stretched his back out after laying on the hard mattress, "Come on, mate, let's go! Your pack is already in the truck, yeah?"
John nodded that it was as he started to finally wake up.
"Let's get back to indoor plumbing." John exited the tent with Russell right on his tail.
When they had made their way to the trucks ready to take them back to base there was a crowd waiting around the open doors.
"What's the wait for? Usually you guys are already belted in and ready to go, what's going on?"
Smyth sat on the roof of the truck staring at something in his hand.
"We seem to have a special delivery," Smyth looked up and fixed his eyes on John, "for a Mr. John Watson-Holmes, from a one and only Mr. Andrew Watson-Holmes." Shock and disbelief were the first two emotions to pepper John's face, followed by pure delight.
"But, how? Smyth, you said that we wouldn't get post until we got back to base?" John gently took the letter from Smyth as though it were made of gold bejeweled with all the riches of the Royal vaults.
"Well, it was dropped off in a near by town, and we needed a guide so they sent the letter with him." Smyth's smile was a cross between proud and smug. John had to embarrassingly blink away the tears forming in his eye, "Oh, come on, WH, don't go all soft on us!"
"In my village, it is encouraged that the man have emotions when thinking about his family, for it is the most important thing in life." The man who spoke stepped forward and looked approvingly at John's misty eyes, "John, it is good to see you again."
"Hadi Harun, what are you doing here? I thought you stopped to have some peace with your own family." John smiled and embraced his friend from his first tour.
"That had been my idea, but I could not stand to see the people around me suffer and so nothing to help in any way possible. I guess you could say I came out of retirement." Hadi chuckled and John joined in on the mirth.
"Well, I had no idea that you two knew each other." Smyth hopped down from the truck roof and landed on the dry earth sending up a dust cloud.
"He actually saved my life when I was shot." John put an affectionate arm around Hadi's shoulders, he returned the gesture.
"No, my friend, you saved mine. I was the one you were operating on when you were shot and you did not stop until another one of your men had to take care of you while you took care of me!" They both started laughing at the gruesome story.
"Well, anyway we should head out," Smyth called as he headed to the lead truck, "Hadi and WH, you too are going to be with me. Everyone else to your assigned cars!"
The once relaxed guys jumped to attention and executed their orders like the trained men they were.
"So, John, tell me of your life since you have been away." Hadi started as they both climbed into the tan and dry green truck.
My next trek is going to be more dangerous and since we will be on the move we will not be able to get any mail, what so ever, but if you do write it will be waiting for me when we get back to base. We haven't lost any men so far, which is always a good thing, but we have had a few close calls with those we thought were friendly.
Another bullet wizzed past John's face as he peaked around the corner to see if there were anymore enemies racing down the hill, he fired and one man dropped.
"Russell," John yelled over the pops of bullets and the screaming of soldiers in two different languages, "Russell! They're heading towards the sick bay! Their planning to take them out, I saw a granade! Take 'em out!"
Russell's face was one of pure consentration as clutched his gun and ran off to protect those who couldn't protect themselves, their usual practical jokester was replaced by a completely focused man who was determined not to let any of his patients die.
John rounded the corner and found Smyth laying on his belly fireing off round after round at the men trying, and failing, to over run their camp site. The medical Doctor kneeled next to him and took up the targets the comanding officer couldn't hit.
"Smyth, I got your six." John growled between fired rounds.
"About time you showed up here, WH," Smyth commented without looking up, "I was starting to think that you only had the heart to pick up the aftermath."
"Never been good at seeing others suffer and sitting by the side lines." That ended the conversation as they continued to target and take out the ambushers.
Only when the last enemy was dead did any of the soldiers start to relax, but it wasn't before long their attentions switched from attack to protect and started helping the injured to the sick bay.
Yes, I was worrying about school, but it's only natural for me too. Just ignore those who give you trouble. I know this sounds cliche, but they are only taking their own faults out on you. Just don't give them the satisfaction of a fight, or the taunts will never end.
Andrew, I almost forgot to mention, though I don't know how, that as soon as we get back to base there will be internet and we can video chat. I know that by your age that you are done growing, but I just want to see you both so badly.
I also need visual proof that the kitchen is indeed intact, not that I don't trust you, but your Father is completely mad.
I hope to see you when I get back!
Love,
Dad