I dread to inform you that this will be my last letter to you. Life in the trenches was dreadful, rats and fire eating away at your flesh, bullets flying by, and watching your brothers besides you fall to the ground. Though I have had to kill men with a gun and knife, I have found some color in this black, grey, and red war. Friendships and bonds who have helped me prevail though the mud and blood. I however among the chaos I shot one of my officers. It was not my intentions to kill him, but I must still pay for the crime I have committed.
I shall miss you dearly mother, and until we meet in heaven. Keep me in your prayers.
Sincerely, your loving son Arthur Gregory.
Forever and always.
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