My Dearest Jane

February 3, 2010
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My Dearest Jane,

This war is beyond anything humanly sane. Men scream in agony in the hospital camps, limbs lost, blood seeping from their wounded bodies, flowing out like running water. Some unable to walk, speak, or move due to their injuries. The women that treat them come out pale white, tears stream their blood patched faces. They are just as traumatized as any of us. It really is a terrible thing, war.

I watch my dear friends die day in and day out. I witnessed my old pal Paul White be pierced repeatedly by bullets from the Nazi army when we were on the battlefield. It was the most horrendous thing I’ve seen in my life.

I will never be the same; nightmares haunt me at night if the cruelty and horrific images I have to see in this terrible place.

I pray to the lord you and our children never witness anything as brutal and gruesome as what I am going through.

I write to you here in my little tent, my darling. I miss you all, young Annabelle and Elizabeth, Curtis and Luke my boys, and most of all you, Janey. I miss sleeping in our bed and hearing your breathing at night, my treatment of restless sleeping.
If I don’t come home again, please remember me; tell the children I love them, and that daddy wishes he was with them, watching them grow up everyday getting older and wiser in time. I think about my family all the time, hoping and praying to God that he allows me to return to you safely.

I promise you, Janey, I will be as strong as I can possibly be to be a good soldier and fight off these enemies, and when I have accomplished my duties, I will return home, God willing.
I love you my dear wife. I give the best of wishes to everyone.

Jonathan Portman

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