10 July 1916

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From: Émeline Bouchard, La Rochelle
To: Célestin Lagrue, Somme Frontline

My Dearest Célestin,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and spirits. La Rochelle misses her bravest son, and I miss my betrothed.

This dawn, as the first rays of sunlight painted streaks of crimson and gold over the slumbering horizon, I found my footsteps drawn to our cherished refuge, our noble and ancient oak tree. Beneath the towering majesty of its branches, we exchanged our first innocent kisses, igniting a flame that neither time nor distance can extinguish. I laid my hand upon its gnarled bark, conjuring the warmth of your face against mine and your beard's bristling touch against my skin. Above me, the leaves rustled gently, whispering a mournful melody that sang the poignant tale of our shared memories.

Nestled in the protective arms of our sacred oak, the aroma of the fertile soil is woven with tales of our love, perfumed with the intoxicating scent of the moment you asked for my hand. The verdant carpet of grass beneath us, now flush with life, still remembers the comforting pressure of your hand as you knelt, a thrilling blend of nerves and joy. The fervor in your eyes as you professed a love that would span lifetimes, and the warmth in my response, as I pledged 'yes.'

Oh, my dear Célestin, the mere image of you brings a symphony of emotions, painting a tender smile on my lips and summoning pearls of longing in my eyes. Our love is an ever-present echo that resonates in the coastal winds, the sea's ebb and flow, the stones and beams of our beloved house, and most starkly, in the deafening silence that bellows your absence. My heart thrums with anticipation for the joyous day when I will behold your face again, embrace your warmth, and spend our destined eternity under the dappled shade of our faithful oak tree.

With all my love,

Your Émeline

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