My Dearest,

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If this letter reaches you, it means the sea has carried me safely to the other side of what ever waits for us. I'm writing by the dim glow  of a lamp that swings with every rise of the waves. The others are quiet, too quiet  for a boat full of lads who should be joking bragging, pretending not to be scared. You can feel the fear in the air like a cold mist.

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I keep thinking about this morning, when I said goodbye. I tried to smile, tried to make it look easy , but when you held my hand that extra second, I felt something inside me crack. I wanted to tell you everything - how much  I love you, how your voice is the only thing keeping heart steady - but the words stuck in my throat. Maybe I  was afraid that if I said them, I wouldn't be able to walk away.

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The sea is dark tonight, darker than I've ever seen it. The engines hum beneath us like a warning. Every now and then, someone coughs, or mutters a prayer, or folds a letter the way I'm folding this one now - as if paper could shield us from what's coming.

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They say we'll land at first light. I don't know what the beach will look like. I don't know what will happen when the ramp drops. I only know that I'll think of you - your face,  your laugh, the way you said ''Come home to me'' as if you could will it and make it come true.​

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I'm not a hero. None of us are. We are just ordinary men trying to do something that feels far bigger than we are. But  if this helps end darkness, if it helps build a world where you can wake without worry, then every step toward that shore will be worth it.

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If I don't return, know this: you were my courage. You were my peace. You were the light  I carried with me  into the unknown.

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But I'm holding on to the hope 'Stubbornly, Fiercely' that I will walk back through our door and you'll be there, and this war will be nothing more than a shadow behind to us  ...

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Until then, my love,

Always yours.