Letter Home

Other than that Dad, my day sucked. I awoke this morning to rain. It was raining when I went to sleep last night, and it’s still raining now. It rained the day before, and the day before that too.  You notice time passing, but after awhile each day just seems to be a repetition of the day that came before it.  Bozo said that the angels were pissing on us. He always looks at things negatively.  Then again, we suffered two casualties yesterday. Rumor has it that Janowitz didn’t make it past the FLOT.  What do you expect when you’re on deep recon? Medical care out here sucks. I’m not too put out by it though, he was a jackass anyway.

Like I was saying, me and Bozo woke up in the rain. At least today it was just a fine mist. Usually, it comes down pretty regular. Yesterday it came down in wind-swept sheets that stung my face and made it hard to see.  Naturally we nodded our flips. Sorry Dad, Army slang.  Flips are infra-red filters that flip down from a recess in our helmets, that’s why we call them flips, get it?  It gives us the ability to detect heat variations. It’s harder for the enemy to camouflage himself against flips than against light enhancers. But they have their limitations. I prayed God that I wouldn’t’ step on a mine yesterday. They’ve got these new mines that have the same heat conductivity as the earth. The flips aren’t keen enough to spot them when they’re buried. They say for a foot soldier, there are more ways to die than survive.

When the lieutenant said this morning that we had a long walk ahead of us, I was relieved. As long as we move, I’m happy. I’m at the point where I hate going to sleep because I keep thinking that they’re going to find us because we’re not moving and zap our position. Reeves, my platoon sergeant, says that I’m the most paranoid SOB he ever met. He’s full of crap. He likes me being paranoid and he knows I knew he does. That’s why he keeps putting me on point. I know, you’ve been told by the media and Hollywood that the point man always gets juiced first. Rest easy Dad. Point is actually the safest position I can have. If we get ambushed, they’ll wait until the last man is in the kill zone before springing the trap. I’d probably be beyond the KZ when that happened. Ever since that since that sniper last week, the LT’s been keeping us spread out more. Besides, you know I’d never fall for a tripwire.

We got about three hours out of the copse that we used for cover last night and sure as snot we got zapped. I was looking at the ground when it happened. I had just signaled for a halt because I saw a cartridge off to the right of the animal trail we were patrolling down. I turned back to look at the shell and then, whap! I heard Gracie scream as the laser toasted his left arm. Then the LT’s voice boomed over the com, “Get down! First squad on line!”  Fortunately I was already on my knee, so I just drove prone into the bushes on my left. I was looking up to get myself aligned with the rest of my squad when the explosion came.  Seems old platoon daddy Reeves didn’t feel like waiting on the LT, so he pumped a grenade at the sniper, which was lucky because the LT had his face burned off and couldn’t have done anything anyway.  That’s got to be the worst smell in the world.  Burnt flesh that is. If I never look at a burnt body again, it would suit me just fine. It’s pretty bad.  They eyes get fried instantly, the fluid inside just vaporizes.

I was sent to look for the body of the sniper. Don’t me and Bozo always get stuck with the dirty ones? I couldn’t find too much of him, mostly just meat chunks with some skin attached. Bozo found a whole foot. He was always the luckier of us two.  The biggest piece I found was a three square inch section from the back of his skull.  Anyway, looking at the foot we figure this guy was a small adolescent or maybe even a female.  The skin hadn’t begun to darken into a deep blue, so it couldn’t have been a sexually mature male.  The skin in male Alphas darkens when they hit puberty. They say that the darker an Alpha’s skin the greater his sexual prowess, but who knows. I don’t’ trust what the locals say.  We were lucky it was young. Had it been older and more experienced, it probably wouldn’t have had to get so close to zap us.

Anyway, by the time we got everything settled it was getting on chow time. Seeing blown up body parts used to kill my appetite, but I’ve gotten used to it. I’d give anything for real food. Bozo said that his cousin used to work in a meat processing plant back on Earth, and she said that the meat we got in our rations was made from the cheapest cow parts they could find. He said she told him that she has seen them use ears, lips, and tails to make the patties we got. Albers believed every word of it and won’t eat the stuff anymore. Me, I figure protein is protein. At least a patty doesn’t look like meat. I mean, if they resembled anything near what a persons’ muscles look like when he’s been torn apart by slitwire, I would never be able to even look at them. Thank Jesus that the meat I eat doesn’t look like meat. Isn’t that the damndest thing anyone’s ever said?

Bozo said that he’d eat feces if he thought it’d get him sent home. I told him he could eat mine. He told me to, well, I don’t want Mom to know what he said. It was pretty bad and you know how conservative Mom can be. I sent Nancy a vid of me and the guys last month. Do you know if she got it yet? I had to bribe two nurses and a pilot to get it back to Big Hill.

Is she still seeing that pierced-nose guy? When I get back to Earth, if I see him near her I’ll break his arms. It makes me angry that we are out here risking our lives day after day and punks like him are running around loose back home. People like him are a burden to society. All’s they want to do is get wired and make trouble for everyone else. Why don’t’ they get jobs and be productive like everybody else?  The natives here on Alpha are being oppressed by a dictatorial government, and we as Terrans have an obligation to help them gain democracy. I’m convinced that what we are doing is right. Isn’t it right to help others achieve their freedom?

I’m on guard duty now, it’s just before dawn.  The sunrises here on Alpha are the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. The sky is more red than on Earth, due to an older sun. It makes a far more blazing display than on Earth, kinda like the whole sky is on fire. It’s lonely here, being so far from home. I miss you so much it hurts. I’m not a man to give in to physical pain, but sometimes it’s hard to hold back the tears when I think that I might never see you again. I love you so much. I’m not afraid of dying either, death’s easy. What keeps me going is wanting to go home. To sleep indoors. Eat a hot meal. I bet I’m not the first soldier that’s ever had these feelings. I’ve seen Bozo cry in his sleep.

It’s times like these that I wonder if it’s all worth it. You know, the war and everything. Does anybody back on Earth really care that we’re here? We’ve heard that there are people protesting the ward outside the capital. I know some natives wish we weren’t here either. Sometimes I wonder, five hundred years from now, will anybody remember or care about those of us who’ve fought and died here on Alpha, or is the sacrifice we are making going to be forgotten like yesterday’s newsbits?

They say it’s the doom of men that they forget. I sincerely hope that we as a people always remember what a sacrifice this war has cost us, and that we never again send our sons off to fight in someone else’s war.

Editor’s note: Corporal Anderson died in an ambush the following day. He was eighteen years old.

The above text has been reprinted in its entirety.  The text has been translated directly from the original English manuscript found in the archives of corporal Anderson’s father, noted attorney Nicholas Anderson. In addition to serving as Minister of Interplanetary Trade, he was the personal consular of the Duke of Elsmuir and the CEO of Ingram Heavy Industries. It is one of the few surviving documents of Nicholas Anderson’s memoirs, the rest being believed to have been lost during the planetary assault of Io in 1323.