A Letter To Mr H

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January 20, 1919 My Dearest Ernie, I don't know what I expected ... this is what I wanted - what I requested, but now that I'm here, I want no part. The screams, the blood, the limbs, stacked like firewood in the corner, it's all I see ... even when I'm asleep. A nurse is supposed to be emotionless, I suppose, so I have learned to hide it well, but in the dark of my tent at night, my pillow gets the worst of it. Each man who comes through reminds me of you ... of US, and I keep expecting one to have your face. Tell me you won't be seeing action again - promise me - you MUST promise, or I won't survive this. God forgive me I am so sick of it ALL. I have left this hell a hundred times, (I even got as far as the canteen one night), but then I think of these poor boys without me, and I have to turn around ... Forgive me, my love, but guilt and duty hold me like a cross, and I must remain until the war is over. Hold onto the ring, and get it blessed ... THAT is my promise to you. I dream of when this madness is finally over, when we will see this world together, and share the mysteries of our travels ... inward AND outward. Do you know what I desire most, Ernie? Just you, love ... and your angry charm. Truly, Agnes ( This is an imaginary letter from Agnes von Kurowsky to Ernest Hemingway )

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