Dear Mr. Inman,
I began living by counting the days,then the mounths.
I don’t count on anything anymore except the hope that you will return.
And the silent fear that in the years since we saw each other,this war,this awful war will have changed us both betond all reckoning.
Dear Mr. Inman,
Since you’ve left,time has been measured out in bitter chapters.
Last fall,my poor father died.Our farm at Black Cove is abandoned.
Every house in these mountains touched by tragedy.Each day the dread…of learning who has fallen…who will not return from this terrible war and no word from you.Are you alive?I pray to God you are.
This war is lost on the battlefield and is being lost twice over by those who stayed behind.I’m still waiting as I promised I would.
But I find myself alone and at the end of my wits too embarrassed to keep taking from those who can least afford to give.
My last thread of courage now is to put my faith in you…and to believe I will see you again.
So now I say to you,plain as I can…If you are fighting,stop fighting.If you are marching,stop marching.Come back to me…come back to me is my request.
Dear Mr. you,
I try to forget you ,but I can’t . I just wish everything could have turned out differently .
I had a special feeling about you .I thought maybe you did too .You would understand, but…
No matter what, you’ll always be in my heart .You’ll always be my baby .
Come back to me , come back to me…
Though you’ve never known,I ‘m waiting for you,wait for your coming back. Always here.
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