My dearest love,
As I write this by the dim light of a lantern, snow softly blankets the camp. The air is biting, but I feel warmed by the thought of you and the little ones gathered around the tree back home. I imagine the smell of pine, the glow of the ornaments, and your voice as you hum a favorite carol.
Tonight, a few of us shared a quiet moment, listening to carols over the wireless. Someone even managed to find a tin of cocoa to pass around. It wasn’t much, but for a moment, it felt as though we were all back home with our families.
The world feels uncertain now, more than ever, but the thought of Christmas with you brings me hope. Hold the children close for me and tell them their father will be home to tuck them in again someday. Until then, I will carry the memory of your smile and the sound of their laughter in my heart.
With all my love,
Robert
Hey Babe,
It’s Christmas Eve, but it doesn’t feel like it here. No snow—just heat and the hum of the jungle. The guys and I tried to make the best of it. Someone strung lights on a palm tree, and we even had a radio playing holiday tunes. It’s strange hearing “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” when I’m sitting here in boots full of mud, but it made me think of you.
I can picture you by the tree, maybe wearing that red sweater I love, with the smell of cookies baking in the kitchen. It’s little things like that that keep me going out here. The nights are the hardest—they’re quiet but not peaceful, you know? Still, I count every day as one closer to being back with you.
I hope you’re not worrying too much. I’m doing okay—just missing you more than ever. Kiss the kids for me, and save a little mistletoe for when I get home.
Love always,
David
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