would love to spend a night sleeping in a basement in rouen which which was a bar before the war but is now a makeshift dormitory with sleeping mats unrolled along parallel to one another along the walls and go out on patrol in the lashing rain along the edge of town one afternoon hands freezing on the rifle and finally get back to the entrance and go down the narrow staircase to the basement room dimly and cozily illuminated by a couple of lamps and several candles and take off my wet clothes in an adjacent room and get into my white longjohns and sit in my little sleeping area sucking hot soup from a metal spoon and have one of the older soldiers say oi anon you got something in the post and have him throw over an envelope which i tear open and find a letter from my love back home and a necklace with a locket with her smiling, pleasant face inside in black and white and find myself surprised by how much i love her and then almost immediately, initially mixed in with that feeling but then becoming a distinct feeling of its own, how grateful i am to have met someone so perfect for me, and read her humorous and caring letter describing the village back home, my relatives, what she has been doing to pass the time, and her ardent wish that i was there beside her during the long winter nights and feel so committed to staying alive and appreciating every moment i will have with her that i lie awake staring at the wood board ceiling long after my fellow soldiers have fallen asleep just allowing my emotions to gradually subside
United Kingdom