Позавчера на ВК читали письма американских солдат, участвовавших в боевых действиях во Вьетнаме, как раз во время войны. Меня почему-то они задели своей простотой, искренностью... Лучше просто прочитайте сами. Письмо солдата своей девушке (а может сестре или просто подруге)

25 may 1969

Hello Princess,
Forgive me for having taken so long to write. The past days haven't been busy ones, only long, hot and very tiring. I feel the quiet tiredness of (them and have) slept-awake through the passing days, not desiring nor doing - being apart. I've taken to looking back boldly on things and sparking forgotten memories: a childhood, a sweetheart, a close friend, a laugh shared, winged, fleeting, uncapturable - it's all so ancient.
Numerous times I've thought of how much your letters have meant to me. Your letters are sanity in an insane world. How much I've relied on getting a note of concern, a phrase that conveys a thought of interest, a word that asks of well-being. Loneliness at one time seemed so much a part of me.
All set for R&R. Next month on the 7th I'll be on my way Bangkok. It feels as if I've gone and I'm back. Six days is so short a time when it's metered against seven and a half months - seven and a half months bottled and tapped, then poured into six days. Sounds exhausting. Let me know if there is anything you'd like me to send you while I'm here.
(I think I told you nothing gives me a joy more than buying gifts).
Take care.

Clarence