Amidst the chaos of war, when penned letters are the only lifeline, two hearts fight valiantly to stay connected.
Charlotte, a wartime nurse, tends ceaselessly to wounded soldiers in an overcrowded London hospital. James, an underground engineer, works in London's belly of maze-like tunnels, steadfastly keeping the infrastructure intact while dealing with the physical and emotional toll of war. Though separated by time, distance, and danger, their love endures, kept alive by a series of secret letters - secret because of the codes the lovebirds use in an attempt to avoid the scrutiny of the enemy and avert danger. These are explained below each one.
How I long to be in your arms, to hear your gentle, comforting voice once again. Each day I spend without you is a terrible eternity. Do you still remember the story we once promised to write together? I still think of it often but fear I have forgotten the ending. My only hope, in his awful time, is that these missives will bridge the distance between us, if only for a time.
The days here mirror one another, and their weight increases with each that passes. London’s streets are almost totally silent—the absence of men like you, gone to the front, is a sadness that tears the heart daily.
I have kept myself busy, as best as I can. I am one of the lucky women who has benefited from medical training, so I have secured a post as a nurse. We suffer the Tempest of war—the hospital is overflowing with your fallen comrades, each clinging on to dear life.I try to ease their burdens as much as I can, but with you not here, I have my own.
You are always in my heart, when the walls of the hospital echo the silence of war and only the hum of the city can be heard. Perhaps I can walk down Fleet Street again to where poetry and science once held great truths. Oh, I do wish you were here to bring these matters to life again—to be the other writer of an unwritten story.
For now, my love, let Milton's Paradise Lost remind you of me:
“The world was all before them, where to choose—their place of rest, and providence their guide.”
His wisdom will bring you through those dreaded tunnels and home to me.
Until then, my love, my heart knows that you will be safe. Know that I will have you in it, as I know that you will have me. Westward, look, the land is bright.
Coded References
Fleet Street: Charlotte references the discussions she had with James about poetry and science., hoping to trigger his memories of the intellectual discussions they had.
The Tempest: Life’s transience, especially during wartime, symbolised by dying soldiers.
The Unwritten Story: A reference to Charlotte’s future with James, one which they promised to write together.
Westward, look, the land is bright: A plea for James’ safe return. Westward refers to Westward Ho! By Charles Kingsley, a novel Charlotte Read together with James, that embraces the theme of separation and longing. Charlotte expresses her yearning for James.
The days are melding in a confused blur now, and remembering what life was like before this war is becoming difficult. But I hear your comforting voice in my mind, envision Tennyson and Fleet Street, and there is hope.
The hospital where I work is busier than ever, and the faces of the soldiers I attend to merge into a blurry image. The sole thought that keeps me going is the one of you. Every man I bandage is a reminder that you are out there, in danger, but heartbreakingly out of my reach. One of these brave young men smiled warmly and told me we would overcome this horrid war, side by side.
As I tended to him, he reminded me of you--not in his appearance, but in his unshakeable resolve. He grasped a worn copy of Shakespeare's The Tempest, its spine shattered, its pages, torn and yellowed.
He whispered a quote from The Tempest just before he passed: “A mind not to be changed by place or time.” Do you recall how we debated Prospero's exile, James? You advocated that the storm both undid and saved him--that being cast away sometimes leads us home.
I clasped his hands as fatigue finally overcame him, and in that moment, you came to my mind—always searching, always questioning. Do you still carry a small book of poetry with you? Do words give you courage? I wish that these dreams were a reality, traversing nightmares without a trace.
But I ramble. I hope that this missive finds you. I know that you are fighting for our future, for us, for me.
I ply the streets of London, feeling their poignant vacancy without you. The city feels like a ghost of its former self, its heartbeat dulled by war. The silence on the streets is jarring—I passed the bookstore on Fleet Street and my heart fell with a horrid pang. How many times did we squabble over the meaning of Tennyson’s words, or Byron’s words of love? How often did we stand there, lost in conversation, when the world moved on around us.
I still remember the story we dreamed of creating together Mayhaps-if fate allows-we shall write it when this horrid war ends. Perhaps we have already penned it in our minds, and all we need to do is live it.
I include a token with this heartfelt missive-it will remind you of me. It isn’t much, but something for you to hold close to your heart, much like the memory of the time we spent before the chaos.
James, please live, and return to me. We will write our story.
Our story: The future Charlottes and James promised to create together.
Tennyson and Fleet Street: Another reference to their intellectual discussions, with the bookshop a symbol of their lost past, and a poignant reminder to Charlotte of the danger James is in.
I dropped my pen when I heard, and my heart is a heavy stone. My vision blurred. Rumours reached the hospital, ones that I dread—the corridors that you once navigated so masterfully have become a perilous trap, and that you have sustained grievous wounds. I cannot shake the dread that danger has gripped you, in the terrible darkness of the front lines.
Every moment without word from you deepens my fears, grows my worries. Each injured warrior who passes through these doors reminds me of war’s cruel toll, and inevitably, my thoughts would return to you. I remember our shared afternoons with Westward Ho! —times filled with thoughts of adventure and love. Now we speak a language that only both of us will understand.
I leave you with this- “Westward, look, the land is bright.” Let these words guide you through the jarring crash and burn—a needed beacon that will take you through the shadows safely. And know that stories still wait for your writing, a promise that I cling to with every beat of my heart.
Hold fast, my darling, and I am waiting for you.
Forever yours,
Charlotte.
Coded References for Letter 4
Westward, the land is bright: The shared line from the novel Charlotte and James read together, now a secret beacon urging James to make his way home.
A language only both of us will understand: Referring to the codes that they have been using.
Crash and Burn: Charlotte’s concern over the front lines.
blogpay
Total Comments: 0