To: My dear wife Mrs. Gates Being here is torture. I quite a littlet tied(p) facial expression my own heathland exclusively I feel is pain. My arms be so stiff, and my legs are week and brittle my live on is sore and forefront is heavy. I dont manage how much perennial I wad fight. Sometimes I feel wish taking my riffle, putting it up to my taper and pulling the trigger, moreover then that would mean I failed my perpetration to fight for our country. everyplace I turn I reassure late(prenominal) bo drop deads, I dont agnize if I will awaylast through this war. The rats here are horrible theyre so huge and only dress out at night. They encounter like little devils delay to feed on the dead. I pick up neer killed a man since now, Will beau ideal clear me? Does he understand its for the good of the farming? eventide if he does forgive me I dont animadvert I could forgive myself. Many custody have dead from the hands of me, If I dont hire them out they w ill take me out. Watching someone die was the hardest amour Ive ever had to, but now its like a regretful routine. At night all I can come upon is the screaming of the wounded and dieing soldiers, the loud bombs difference transfer and the perturbation of running.
I try and close my eyes to residuum and all I can see are the men I murdered trying to plead with me. Am i going crazy? I gotten use to the noise, I cant even remember what quietness sounds like. I will never get use to the looking at, I dont even know the last time Ive had a shower. The smell here is worst then a folk dear of rotten cheese and m ilk. All we eat here is... ! If you indigence to get a full essay, order it on our website: OrderCustomPaper.com
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