Watching Sheep

War is always a devastating thing. It brings out the worst in people, like trauma. I really like the background you gave this letter in your description. A nun that raised a war solider.

''. His name was Louis. I met him on my first day in the company, he was a few years older than me, and he showed me the ropes. He protected me. He and I would talk a lot, he was a musician, or he wanted to be at least. Most of the time he would just sing on account of how they didn’t let anyone bring instruments to war. But I remember the one time I saw him play an instrument, it was Christmas day, and he had found an old violin in a bombed-out house. That night at camp he danced and played and sang all night. That was the happiest I ever saw him. It was the first time most of us had heard proper music in months. He mostly played Christmas music, all of us sang along for the songs we knew. That night was the only moment that everything seemed to slow down during the war.''

I liked how you described Louis. And I really appreciate the fact that despite in the situation Franz and Louis are in, they always find the time to have those little moments of joy.

I was kind of sad that Louis died though.

Not trying to pressure you or anything, but maybe you could write a diary (it doesn't have to be big or anything) describing Franz experiences in the millitary?

War is finnicky. The image of sheep slipping over the horizon one by one, and the young soldier watching the last lamb vanish before he allows himself to breathe again is a lovely moment. So far, so good.

However, the letter remains at war with itself. The entire middle is dominated by the anecdote of Louis, and while Louis is undoubtedly the intended emotional centerpiece, the scene is told rather than explored. It is the only concrete event of the letter, yet even it feels strangely static and hermetically sealed in trauma... Franz simply repeats what had happened and does not add dialogue to a conversation that is open and waiting. Franz relives it; we relive Franz reliving it; but nothing is revealed that wasn’t already said the first time.

The problem is not that Louis’s death is unimportant... The problem is that it is too important and only important. Every other element, such as the wandering, the sheep, the orphanage, the sister, forgiveness, feels like a series of support beams while there is no real idea monopolizing the narrative. Nothing is learned, nothing shifts, nothing resolves.

Give the letter direction equal to its atmosphere. The craftsmanship is there. Decide what Franz wants from having written this.

Oh already the beginning is so sad. With someone unable to contact there family, espc with this line here: “Not after all I’ve done, all that’s been done to me.” ☹
Find the line abt turning 18 a bit weird. Since… his siter should know his b-day right? So maybe the better phrasing would be something that shows that he’s made it to his 18th birthday. That he’s survived.
Aww ☹ “Nothing else feels real anymore.“
Hui and what a story he’s telling abt Louis ☹ Oh man!
I know this is a letter format and therefore it’s …realistic if this is all one paragraph. But … please, put some paragraphs in there. It makes it so so much easier to read and absorb everything.
You know, this doesn’t really feel like a letter to his sister. This kinda feels like a journal entry and he’s disguising it as a letter bc he cant really bring himself to commit to writing his thoughts down otherwise. A nice little short story!