Matching Hearts | Teen Ink

Matching Hearts

January 26, 2011
By daisy:) SILVER, Russellville, Kentucky
daisy:) SILVER, Russellville, Kentucky
8 articles 1 photo 8 comments

Dear Cora,
Where are you, my dear? Where have they taken you? I write this letter hunkered down in a trench preparing for battle. If I knew where I was, I would certainly tell you, but I’m afraid I do not. All I know now is the sound of incessant shellfire and the beating of my heart. All I know now is war in all its bloodiness, all its sorrow, all its pain. If it weren’t for you my darling, I’m afraid I would forget I am human. I feel as though I’ve evolved into some sort of ruthless monster. That’s what constant hurting and sadness does to you. Not only does it toughen you up, but it also makes you forget things; things like love and hope. But I have not forgotten these things yet, praise be to God. Every time I open the locket you gave me and stare into your beautiful definite eyes I know they still exist. I know that somewhere, far from this death infested place, there is real life. I long to be there, in that life worlds away, with you.

All My Love,


Dear Charlie,

I feel awful to explain to you the terrible conditions of this field hospital when I know for sure that your conditions somewhere out on the battlefield are far worse, but I can’t help it. I need an escape from this horrible place. I can’t even begin to describe the sadness I feel when I nurse a man’s bloody leg and put a sling on a soldier’s tattered arm. I think of their families back home, giving up food and supplies to support their cause, their soldier. To them, this war has a face and a name. Then I think of my mother, and yours, and how they’re probably sitting together, planning our wedding and worrying. They have double the threat of losing one of us. As I write, I hear the moans from the overcrowded beds around me. I wish I could help them all and make them comfortable, but there are too many, and I’m already working as hard as I possibly can. More are dying every day, Charlie, and the number of patients laid out on stretchers awaiting surgery keeps increasing. I feel hopeless. What can I do? I am only one nurse with minimal training and a deep desire to help save lives. I don’t know where you are and what you are doing right now, and I won’t bother trying to send this letter, because I know it will never make it to you. I am only praying that you are alive and well. And the only thing that keeps me going is hearing your voice in the back of my head. “Push forward, we’ll make it through this.” I only hope that you are right, Charlie.

Ever Yours,


The author's comments:
This started out as a homework assignment for my World Civilization class, but as I studied deep into World War I, I couldn't help but keep writing.

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