Love Letter Found in the Ruins of the War

I will be dead by morning, the line didn't hold. I have fifty bullets and two grenades, the last grenade will be for me.

If you are reading this letter, please take it to the name on the front of the envelope, I want her to know I did my best and didn't leave her to die. Her last known address is on there, but I think she fled to the refugee camp at Srepbo, I don’t know for sure.

The enemy pounded our positions with attack helicopters all night then flooded in like a swarm of hornets. Home field advantage should have made the difference, but it didn't. They broke through the defenses at Ludlow bridge and it was downhill from there. Know this: every one of our soldiers gave their all, nobody flinched or ran away. They died as heroes, every one. Now everyone is dead. Except me.

Outside a line of armored troop carriers rumbles past. This sniper position won't last long. With every kill shot I get vengeance for my brothers in arms who died in this stupid conflict that's all about ego and oil. When the invasion started we believed the lies about how our allies would step in and step up, but that was a fairy tale. Our little country isn't as important as we thought, I suppose. I believe this country does matter, and shortly I will die to prove this point.

This part of the letter is for the name on the front: Marie, I was a failure. I love you more than life itself and dreamt of growing old chasing the dogs in the garden and telling stories to sleepy grandchildren, but no. My sniper position is the bombed out shell of our apartment. This is where I first cooked you dinner on our second date and knew that summer night: I knew with blinding clarity that you were my star, my light in a universe filled with darkness. You are a good person and don't let anyone ever tell you you're not smart enough or good enough, but you are. I should have deserted this stupid army post long ago and come home to you. For that I will forever drown in regret. Be strong and take care of your brother. If the crazy story about god and the heavens is true, then we will meet again in the afterlife. Love forever, Ivan.

And so here we are, footsteps are getting closer. I've only got fifty bullets and there are 200 men outside. You do the math.

Sargent Ivan Duplov 02.02.21