To My Hero and Dad Matthew, 

Every night while I sit here by the campfire, I longingly think about our glamorous life back home. The hunting trips we go on, the good times we have shared together, and especially your peach cobbler. As I reminisce about life back home, I cannot help but notice sounds that make me feel closer to home. The fire crackling and the crickets chirping their magnificent song to name a few. I think about the time I spent with you Dad; sitting in the woods and listening to you tell your war stories while we hunt for squirrels – or whatever fatefully comes across our path. Those stories were what lit the fire in my soul and ignited a sense of patriotic duty that I must serve my country. You always said that I needed to pave my own path, but when looking at you Dad, there is nothing that I would rather do. There is a reason why I followed your path. 
Life over here in the middle east has been pretty eventful to say the least. So far this month we have been woken up in the middle of the night on multiple occasions to sounds of cackling explosions throughout the midnight sky. Every time this happens, we are shoved into bunkers on base to help protect us from as much danger as possible. You probably remember something like that during your tours overseas, right? We have tried and ventured out farther to expand our vantage points, but it seems that the Taliban know what we do at all times. Every time we go out on an exhibition, it seems like we are ambushed almost every time without fail. I don’t know if that means there is a rat between our ranks, or we have just been extremely unlucky with where we chose to explore. 

Yesterday was one of those tragic expeditions. My gunner David and I were venturing out towards the mountains to check on the villages out there when we suddenly were under heavy gunfire. David and I fought out hardest until backup arrived and shoved the ambush back farther into the mountains, but my best friend was gone. David experienced life-ending injuries to his torso and his head and neck areas which ultimately took his life. I don’t know why God decided to take him from his family and me so early, but he did. It has been extremely hard dealing with the trauma of losing him and I need your help. You know better than anyone else what it is like when you lose your battle-buddy, and how close you are with them. We were practically brothers and were inseparable from the day we met.

I have always looked up to and I am really in need of some advice and support, 
Love, Your Son, Nathaniel