Sogeri, near Port Moresby, New Guinea

31 October 1942

My Alice,

I'm forever grateful that I decided to stop in the diner, sweetheart. You've opened up another part of the world to me, you've introduced me to literature I never would have picked up on my own, and you've enriched my life in ways I never could have imagined. I will continue to be your rakishly handsome soldier, fighting the demons by your side for as long as you want me to be there (which I hope is for a very long time).

Adelaide is a smart kitty; a smart, miserable kitty who I hate leaving behind every time we leave… it does make me feel better that you'll be able to take her on if I can send her home. I'm still looking into it, but no luck - things in and out of where we're staying are at a standstill and we've had to ration out our rations even more now thanks to the Japanese. (Christ, I wish we were done.) I think we'll be here for quite some time, there's been absolutely no word, no rumors, or gossip of if we're leaving here, so I guess we'll all have to hunker down - I miss garrison duties if you can believe it.

It's not good for the men, and I feel inadequate in helping them out; we lost Gibson shortly after my last letter to you, and Warner's on his way out unless they can get him back to the hospitals… it doesn't look good, and it doesn't feel good… we've lost so many, sweetheart… I wish I was home.

The little spitfire has received many kisses from you via me, so much so that she's about sick of them, but I know she appreciates the attention and love; she's curled up in the crook of my arm as I write this in my hammock (we've had a few days of reprieve, thankfully)

Much appreciative of the new journal and pencils; I'll be making the switch tonight as my old journal has gotten soft - I have to press gently to not make holes in the paper as I write (it got caught in a downpour) - so the pouch will be extra helpful in keeping the new journal dry. I'm hoping to let the old one sit out under a cover for a few days and see if it dries up any better before I put it away until I get home. Thank you, sweetheart.

I love you being yourself, Alice, it's what drew me to you in the first place: the girl in the diner reading a book - oblivious to the world. I… I love you, Alice Harvey, nothing you do will chase me away.

I don't know if you feel the same way - I have my suspicions, but if you don't want to admit it just yet, I'm fine with waiting… that is if you still want to talk to me after this letter. I'd understand if you didn't.

Jean would thank you not to maim her husband, sweetheart, I think she might want him in one piece. And that last line sounds like something Miss Fisher would say, shall I keep an eye out for axes in my future?

Either way, I'm glad all the ladies in my life have met and approved of each other; makes me feel more at ease and I look forward to all the shenanigans you, Jean, and Vera get into in the future.

Thank you for the kisses, I can't wait for the real things when I come home. And… if you still want to talk about the future, I'd like to continue daydreaming of life with you.

We comfort each other, Alice, that's what relationships are all about - joys doubled and griefs halved and all that; you weren't wallowing in self-pity, you just needed some comfort as people need sometimes. Make sure you're not trying to do too much, sweetheart, I don't want to hear of you being unwell because you burnt yourself out trying to do all of the things at once.

I'm glad you can handle muck and dirt, you can handle those while I handle the bodily fluids, how about that? Though you'll have to train me up as a proper doctor's assistant to help out with any boo-boos. Me? Devious? Never, but you have to admit that it's a fun thing to do. Rose isn't so little anymore that she'd actively want to be around her uncle, but I'm sure we can rile up the Collinses for a while yet.

Good, good, I'm glad you still want flowers; I hope you loved your birthday flowers from me (I made a promise to you last year and I hope they got to you on your birthday) and I promise to try to get them to you each year on your birthday (whatever day that ends up being).

Clara's pregnancy might have been what you'd gone through with Peg, and hopefully, you'll be able to reunite with her in the future, sweetheart. I remember the kicking to be odd too, but it is a good thing - it means the baby's developing as they should, she might find it wearisome towards the end though, Vera did. She was ready for Rose to get out of her by the time my niece was born. I look forward to meeting Baby Cooper almost as much as I look forward to being home with you.

It's true, we don't get to choose our parents otherwise I would have chosen a different father to be mine, but I suppose I look for a better father figure in my mentors since my old man left. I've found that the friends and family we collect and cultivate are the ones who matter in the end.

We'll make plans to get out to Sydney once I'm home and the war is done to find your birth records and also look for Peg, sweetheart.

We're going to have to expand the bookshelves in the house, aren't we? We'll never want for books to read, that's for sure, and neither will anyone who visits.

You've come so far, sweetheart, and if you'll let me I'll continue to remind you of that and show you that you are the better version of yourself; your parents' claws might have dug deep, but getting those out might be easier with another set of hands helping you out (and of course, kissing the wounds to make them feel better, that's a must.)

Whatever our future holds, we'll figure out together and it's perfectly alright to decide to change our minds; how about this... for now, we won't plan on having children, but if a few years we decide to try or maybe foster (make at least one place in the system safe like your last home?) to adopt? We've got plenty of time to decide it all.

We'll find her, I know we will; two heads together are better than one, right? I've got some connections and we can always scrape together the money for a private investigator. She could have gone to another state, yes, but we'll start at the beginning: Sydney. We'll start there and chase down each lead, eventually we'll get answers - hopefully good.

Those case discussions at Wardlow are about to get very entertaining between us, Jack, Miss Fisher, and the Collinses (plus whatever boarders are living with Miss Fisher at the time, any new ones, by the way?)

I'm taking that as permission to wake you up in the night to inform you if you snore, Almost Doctor Harvey. (And is that an invitation to nap with you, sweetheart? Cheeky girl.)

I look forward to our picnics and kisses, we'll have to find different parks around Melbourne figure out which one we like best - luckily we'll have plenty of lost time to make up for in order to find the favorite. Addy has gotten big! She's filling out more, less a lanky kitten and more like the pretty kitty she is.

Christopher will come around, he's just stubborn (always has been.)

Thank you very much for the biscuits! The boys welcomed them and we were lucky to get them intact (I think censorship also liked theirs.)

It all just takes practice, sweetheart; you'll improve once you look back on your first project, you're just stuck in the present and can't see all you've learned as you've done with sewing. I'd pay good money to see you tell those professors you improved your surgical stitches by learning how to mend, you'll let me know whenever you decide to do that?

Mum will love the jumper! I'll let you know if she tells me anything too once you're done with it and have given it to her.

It's hard to believe that a year ago I was stuck on garrison duties, wondering when we'd get new orders; the more things change the more they stay the same, I guess. I'm also counting down the days until I can see you again, sweetheart.

Yours, Lovingly,

Matthew