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My
Dear
Son,
It's
almost
June,
I
hope
this
letter
catches
up
with
you,
and
finds
you
well.
It's
been
dry
but
they’re
calling
for
rain,
and
everything's
the
same
old
same
in
Johnsonville.
Your
stubborn
old
Daddy
ain’t
said
too
much,
but
I’m
sure
you
know
he
sends
his
love...
[And
she
goes
on,
in
a
letter
from
home.]
I
hold
it
up
and
show
my
buddies,
like
we
ain’t
scared
and
our
boots
ain’t
muddy,
and
they
all
laugh,
like
there’s
something
funny
about
the
way
I
talk,
when
I
say,
"Mama
sends
her
best
y’all."
I
fold
it
up
an'
put
it
in
my
shirt,
pick
up
my
gun
and
get
back
to
work.
And
it
keeps
me
driving
on,
waiting
on,
letters
from
home.
My
Dearest
Love,
Its
almost
dawn,
I’ve
been
lying
here
all
night
long
wondering
where
you
might
be.
I
saw
your
Mama
and
I
showed
her
the
ring.
Man
on
the
television
said
something
so
I
couldn’t
sleep.
But
I’ll
be
all
right,
I’m
just
missing
you,
and
this
is
me
kissing
you,
XX’s
and
OO’s...
[In
a
letter
from
home.]
I
hold
it
up
and
show
my
buddies,
like
we
ain’t
scared
and
our
boots
ain’t
muddy,
and
they
all
laugh,
'cause
she
calls
me
"Honey",
but
they
take
it
hard,
'cause
I
don’t
read
the
good
parts.
I
fold
it
up
and
put
it
in
my
shirt,
pick
up
my
gun
and
get
back
to
work.
And
it
keeps
me
driving
on,
waiting
on,
letters
from
home.
Dear
Son,
I
know
I
ain’t
written,
but
sitting
here
tonight,
alone
in
the
kitchen,
it
occurs
to
me,
I
might
not
have
said
it,
so
I’ll
say
it
now,
Son,
you
make
me
proud...
I
hold
it
up
and
show
my
buddies,
like
we
ain’t
scared
and
our
boots
ain’t
muddy,
but
no
one
laughs,
'cause
there
ain’t
nothing
funny
when
a
soldier
cries,
and
I
just
wipe
me
eyes.
I
fold
it
up
and
put
it
in
my
shirt,
pick
up
my
gun
and
get
back
to
work.
And
it
keeps
me
driving
on,
waiting
on,
letters
from
home.
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