New Year … 1944

In a tent under the stars, somewhere miles away, sits a serviceman painstakingly preparing himself to write a letter. ‘My D .’ and already his pencil pauses as he wonders what he shall write. The letter must be worthy of the occasion for it is New Year’s Eve. “Shall I simply wish her a happy New Year, and leave it at that? But that is too conventional, too meaningless. Yet, on the other hand, A Happy New Year! — the irony of it. How can I wish her a happiness I do not feel myself? Happiness...