Dear James,

I don't know how much more of this I can take. We've lost over a dozen men today. I knew one of them. His name was George. I knew him for school. He was in my class, and he was such a sweet man. He had a wife, Sandra, and two girls, Alice and Jane. His girls are only four years old. And now they have to grow up without him. I promised him we would take care of him. I promised he would get to go back home to his girls. He died of an internal bleed. I should've known something was wrong. It all seemed to easy. I really don't think I can do this anymore, James. We're surrounded by death, and it's like there's not enough we can do. This isn't fair. These brave men are giving up everything to help their people, and all they get in return is death. I don't know how everyone does it. Maybe I'm just too sensitive or not strong enough. I need to suck it up and do my part, but gosh it's hard. I know I shouldn't be complaining about this. I'm not out there fighting like you all. I can't even imagine what's going through your head, James. I hope it's nothing too dark. I pray you're aren't falling apart like I am, but I know you don't need me to. You're strong enough on your own. I love you, James.

Sincerely, Elizabeth