⸺ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 | ᶜᵃᵉˢᵃʳ ˣ ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ [ᵘᵃ]

𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞...

Bourges,

July 29, 1917

My beautiful wife,

I am writing these sweet little words to you again under the indiscreet gaze of my companions who stare at me laughing out loud, seeing me smile like an imbecile in front of this piece of paper.

The previous assault was a real butchery absolutely useless and without a specific goal. At the beginning, they were twenty thousand. After passing the barbed wire, there were only about fifteen thousand left. And only yesterday, I learned that only five thousand of these soldiers had been able to survive thanks to a withdrawal requested by General Pétain, although in turning back, some were not safe from bullets and shrapnel. shells and had the right to a nice trip to the infirmary or to the third line.

My poor wife, you cannot imagine the landscape that surrounds us. No more vegetation, not even a ruin; here and there a stump of a tree trunk stands tragically on the ground, riddled with thousands and thousands of shell holes and bullet holes touching each other.

No more trenches or guts to get your bearings. Between us and the Germans, only one network of barbed wire, everything else was pulverized as the cannonade went on. But more active than the bombardment, worse than the lack of supplies, it is the smell of decomposition and gas which trails, heavy and pestilential, which grips your guts, makes your heart ache, prevents you from eating and even to drink.

We live on a huge mass grave where only filthy blood-soaked flies and big rats glistening with grease seem to take pleasure: everything is stench of decomposing corpses, human waste of all kinds, dust from explosives and gas layers.

It is therefore after this short story of the adventures of the last month that I am going to announce the following thing to you, although I am not very good at doing this kind of thing...

I won't come back from the war and please, I beg you by the grace of god, don't cry, be strong. The last assault I made cost me my left foot and I'm going back to the front first thing tomorrow morning... At that moment, when I cross the first line and enter the field of battle, I will unfortunately be heading for certain death.

By the time this letter reaches you, I might already be dead in a puddle or probably injured by shrapnel waiting for treatment in the infirmary. Don't blame me and please... don't cry.

My very dear (tp), I would like to entrust you with our most beautiful memories and our dream children... Farewell my dear wife and be happy, your husband even in eternity and on death row will not forget you.

I think I can say it and affirm it, we loved each other and I love you one last time. I would have liked to see you again one last time, to touch you, to caress you, to hug you, to kiss you, and so many other things that I currently do not have the power to do.

However, I have absolutely no regrets. Well, not exactly. I only regret one and only thing... It's not being able to give a family.

I love you, I hope we will meet again in another world, I thank you for all the wonderful moments you have given me, I will always love you. I loved you, I love you and I will love you forever.

Signed Caesar Antonio Zeppeli

PS: I send you with this beautiful letter my wife, an ammunition with which I gave a nice shape during my expectations and troubles, it was to pass the time and have a little fun.