14 July 1941
My dearest sons,
I'm not sure when this letter will reach you, but I pray it arrives in Concord post haste. Your mother has written me saying she's had communications with Mrs. Mobley. She tells me you've been adjusting well and enjoying your time in America. I won't tell you not to get to comfortable there, because it may not be such a bad idea. But I'm also not going to tell you we're losing this war, because in this family we are firm believers in optimism.
I've been moved from Egypt into Libya. One of the men here says we're lucky to be so far north, because farther south it's nothing but sandy deserts would an Englishman mad. It's still blooming hot here, though. But those soldiers won't hear me complain. I always get flak from the men for not being a soldier but rather a battle surgeon. They joke, telling me I'm not but a pansy, but I'd like to hear them joke when I'm fishing for bullets elbow deep in their intestines!
I'll have to wrap this up now. Remember that I love you boys, and take good care of each other. Write back soon.
--Dad
YOU ARE READING
Whiskey Summer
RomanceAt the start of the summer of 1941,16-year-old London native Daniel Brown is uprooted from his home and sent across the ocean, along with his annoying kid brother Percy, in hopes of escaping the war-ravished England. When the boys arrive in the smal...
