Dearest Clara,
From the time I left you, I never thought I would come this far, but here I am sailing alongside General Washington across this merciless Delaware River. As I write to you, my fingers are frozen stiff and I can barely make out my writing because of countless wisps of snow flurrying into my face. My childhood fantasy of joining the military has faded into dread. The only thing I can think of now is coming home to see you, my love.
The gentle splash of of oars against icy water is haunting and the idea that I may never make it home strikes terror into my aching heart. While the size difference between out two armies is not drastic, the Hessians' well trained soldiers reveal what our army really is: a tangle of untrained farmers and schoolboys. Our only hope of victory lies in the brilliance of General Washington. General Washington has the gift of instilling tenacity into even the most timid, and he keeps us going through each frigid night God curses us with. Now, the eve of Christmas morning ,the air is biting and shows no mercy to our freezing bodies.
With my utmost love,
Theodore



My Love,
As dawn brings the sun peeking over the horizon, I realize what day it is. Christmas, the day of our dear Savior’s birth. The day when hope entered our people’s lives. I pray desperately that it will do the same on this silent morning for us. General Washington is counting on the Hessians revalric parties and extravagant drinking to gain us our victory. While I am hesitant, I think his plan is brilliant. After heavy drinking, the men will not be fit to fight.
We have just reached our camp after a long trek from the shore to our secluded camp. A trail of blood traces the steps from our shoeless feet, giving our camp an even more surreal air than it had to begin with. We’re waiting now for the perfect moment. A simple wave of General Washington’s hand will beckon us into the dangerous woods and toward our enemies.
We were met by American spies on our way to battle, each with a pair of horses and enough supplies to get us through the rest of our stay. After hiding most of the supplies a safe distance away from the tranquil field that would soon be our battlefield, we marched on. As I caught a glimpse of General Washington's angular figure, I could distinguish lines of worry forming on his face. We have had far too many deserters in the past couple days, and I'm embarrassed to confide that I have tentatively considered that path myself. But deserting would only bring disgrace upon to you and destruction upon my country. I cannot hold back the wistful idea that if I were to leave this cursed place I would be able to enjoy Christmas with you. Yet I cannot afford to think like that, lest I lose my focus and, in doing so, lose my life.
You are always in my heart,
Theodore



My Clara,
One, two, three, four. General Washington has tried to engrain structure into our troop's thick skulls, but our unorganized footsteps betray our lack of formal training. Despite this, we march steadily forward, driven by the readiness to be free from this prison of anticipation. We are but two miles from what will soon become our battlefield. It is heartbreaking to see the hard-set faces of such young boys as are in my troop. Boys who should be apprenticed and learning a trade are forced to act as adults and face the same fears as those twenty years their senior. Even more terrifying is knowing that if we ever have a son, he might be forced to march the same routes as we are now. It is hard enough for me, with no one but you who cares about me, but these boys, they have family and friends counting every second until their return. What has happened to this world, Clara?
Desperate for your love,
Theodore


My dear Clara,
This will be my last letter to you before the bloodbath commences. Only three words matter now. I love you. Do not forget those words, no matter what happens. I keep a scrap of your lovely writing in my pocket so I may remind myself of you each time I finger it, although of course your image never leaves my mind. Have I ever told you how beautiful you are? With only hopelessness and fear traveling around me, your beauty shines through the darkness. You are the only beacon of hope getting me through this terrible time, and I look forward to the day I can finally hold you in my arms.

I love you.
Theodore



Miss Clara,
I deeply regret having to bear this tragic news to you. Your dear husband has been killed in battle. One of the most heroic men I know, he fought until the very end, giving his life to save a young soldier. His honorable spirit kept the troop going, even when we rejected all hope. His love for his country was unbeatable, and we all respected him greatly for it.And, besides his love for his country, he never stopped talking about his undying love for you. Making us stay up all night, he told us cheerful stories of when you two were young together, lifting our spirits and reminding us of our loved ones back home. He died with his fingers clasped around a scrap of paper that he had treasured from the beginning. Your writing. The simple words: I love you.
I am so sorry for your loss, I know nothing will ever be able to fill the void that his death has left. Let God comfort you and walk you through this sorrowful time.

Clark