MY07

Written by the author and writer of the East, Michelle Yazar. Who brings us on this occasion, this book that is made up of a series of letters sent between 29 years Eugene Myers and 31 years Patrick Stanley, both originally from London, England. During the years of World War II (1941-1945).
It all begins when Patrick was about to declare his feelings to Eugene, being called to enlist as a soldier in the British army, to fight against the nazis. This unleashes a series of events, which Eugene, through his letters, expresses along with the immense pain and gnawing fear of not seeing again,
to the one who was more than his friend; the love of him no longer platonic of him.

A love that, without a doubt, crossed all the limits that a war could impose. A passion that burned, without the slightest expiation of consummation. A distance that was the paper guillotine, before the feelings of these two desperate young people to see each other once more.
"Remembering a love", the wish of those who one day dream of being happy with the love of their life, even when the whole world turns upside down, including a world war on board.

Remembering a love

Remembering her like every sunrise, under this sky that shelters us. Thinking of the cleanest desire that I can feel towards you, in the secret of my intimate thought that is addressed to you. My heaven, looking at a firmament that seems so extensive to me and which figure your face.

I write these words that flow like a spring, at the starting point, in the enemy line that I find myself. The offensives that we have, the losses of several men and how difficult it is to see in many of the times: with impotence, pain and moments of solitude for many. When we are on the battlefield, in the middle of the mud, we only cling to life, in the faith of our loved ones. There was one day, when we had to carry several of the soldiers. One died and one of his feet was pointed at the other; I just want this war to end, my love.

I just want you to understand the fact, because on many occasions my letters do not reach you or communications here are restricted.

I received new orders: my platoon must remain in the middle of these trenches, which are like the passages of death, but when I read your letters, I am strengthened and my strength returns. The news is not favorable my dear, the high command is looking for resources and more help, we must continue fighting if we want to survive.

We have learned that many of our people have lost their lives in the Nazi concentration camps, but the treatment for others is more terrifying and the world will know what happens in these places; where the strongest soldier cries like a child and the value of life becomes valuable. Each one takes care of his partner as if we were all, children of the same mother. I have in my drawer several letters from spouses, children, brothers, friends who will not arrive and now I can only allow my love, let me be the means, so that their loved ones know that until the last moment these heroes were loved , as I love you. I know about your work with orphans and how important, and how proud I am of you.

I hope to see you soon... I only count the days to hold you in my arms and walk in your company, in the beautiful forests, filling you with the flowers that surround the garden of your house, with the rich flavor of apples and flooding you with my love . Like crazy, I feel at every moment that fragrance of the letters you have sent and which I have kept. It is these memories that I cling to and imagine the melodies of the piano when you play it, looking at the garden, love.

How much I love you! And I would shout it as many times as necessary. If they call me "arrogant", I would say yes, but don't take away what I feel for you; I would take him to death. If they asked me, to a beyond death itself? then let the flowers feel jealous of your beauty.

Chapter 7: A Flower in the Middle of War