1910s: Anna falls in love

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Dearest Alice, 

How is it that you know more about myself than I do? Here I thought it was Glimmerbrook I was falling in love with, when in truth there was something else going on. Maurice has been so brave. You should have seen his wounds as he arrived. He came so close to dying and the scars he still bears in his face and on his body is just a testament to his bravery. I suppose it has affected me deeper than I thought. 

On my latest day off he asked me to meet him at the café. I expected him to show up like he usually dresses, in his uniform, but instead he was dressed in civilian clothing. I had to admit I was embarrassed by my own attire, showing up in my uniform, but he was a gentleman and said nothing of it. It was the first time we were there on our own, and it was strange at first, but in a good way. We talked so long that it turned dark before we knew it, so he offered to walk me home. 

He still gets fatigued, walking too much, so we took a rest on bench, and there he kissed me. I was so surprised, dear sister, as I did not expect it at all. It was definitely something very different from George's fumbling attempt when I was intoxicated. It quite made my heart flutter in ways I had not experienced before. I can now recognise what you once told me you felt, and I feel that for the first time I do understand more of what you went through. 

I honestly have not been able to stop smiling since. Maurice asked me out properly on a date for my birthday, and I had a magical night. We took a stroll in Glimmerbrook, which his really coming to life now in spring. It even stopped raining. We once more visited the café and later the bar where we had a glass (just one) of nectar. Again we stayed so late that Maurice had to walk me home, but even so, I could not possibly go to bed once he left me there. I spent hours just laying on the ground in the warm breeze staring at the stars. 

Oh, dearest sister, do not take me for a dreamer, but I cannot help myself! Never have I been more tempted to forget everything I have ever said and just run off and marry and have half a dozen children. But of course, this is war, and neither of us dare to speak too much of the future. Maurice has been strong enough to leave the hospital and return to his home, but not strong enough to return to the front just yet, but it's a matter of time before he gets that order, and we both know it. 

This is not a place for dreaming of futures. Remember that I told you about our doctor? He married a local widow here, and they had a child. Well just last week he went to the front to deliver supplies and collect some of their wounded and simply never returned. A shelling hit the transport. No one survived. Madame Phillippe is now a widow for the second time in her life, but this time with a small infant at her hip. This is how cruel life is here. So how could I dream about a future when tomorrow is still an uncertainty? 

Yet Maurice is different from any man I have ever met. He's a painter when he's not a soldier, and have dreams to see the world just like I do. He does not shy away when I talk about travelling the world, exploring jungles and climbing mountains. He encourages me, tells me he'd love to paint those places. Never has he talked about it not being suitable for women, or told me dreams I should have instead. Its as if he understands my very soul. I am rambling, and I should not, there is still so much work to do, especially without our doctor. We have been told they'll send us a new one, but for now his student will have to do. At least he has experience by now. I will write again soon. 

Your loving sister, 
Anna

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