To Mr. and Mrs. De Guarde

4th June 1809,

Dearest Mother and Father,

I hope this letter finds you well and in as good spirits as it leaves me. As I have written in my previous letter, How fare my Sister and Brother? Has my Sister yet found a suitable suitor? She must know to conceal too much of her wisdom, else her wit might loose her a good man. It is important to pick the right time and place for when to reveal one's talents and when one should have them remain unknown. But let me not natter away unbecomingly.
I have now been, for several weeks, in service of the most honourable master of the seas, captain Bolitho. I am fortunate as I have many friends in my berth and the older midshipmen are most helpful in furthering my studies. Not too long and you might receive a letter from a lieutenant, perhaps! What joy would that bring me, and pride I hope, to you. There has been much that has happened in such a short time. Of this I can retell you a story of us taking a fortress. The men were most brave. There had been several ways in which we have entered the fortress. One company braving themselves into the bowels, almost literal in that sense, I dare add, of the fortified town itself. Oh, the smell, it was pudgent, hostile to one's senses, and so thick that I have thought we were threading through it like the liquid that came about our calves. Here we encountered the enemy, when attempting to enter the room. It ought not to come amis in my memory to retell. We could not have returned the same way, should we have wished to, for our retreat was blocked. Our men fought bravely at that fort, and broke down through the door, and some, I have been told, had run exposed with means of explosive and there brought more rock down so that our success was near certain. I played a mere small part in the battle and did not shy from danger! But from this, you shall see, brave men were rewarded and one, a dear friend of mine, has taken up the rank of corporal. He is a marine. Please mother and father, do not think ill of me finding friends among the common men. For this one is as near a gentleman, and as wise as one, without being such by blood. Do not think my mind bemused when I tell you of this. Perhaps you shall meet him one day. You will see I speak not untruth when I account for his virtues.

** At this he lifted his his quill and bit at his lip. To say that he missed them would be too forward and perhaps too much. He felt a certain amount of longing for home. He had a repetitive urge to confirm his being a midshipman even if this was a lie, but how to write of this , without being obvious in his urge for it. How could he confirm his place in fantasy, when it was not there in truth? He sighed and tapped his forefinger thoughtfully against paper**

Though I rank higher than the men I serve with, I must attest to having not but the slightest chance not to be a part of their lives, as they of mine. I learn immensely of the sea with the help of one Topman above others, but also from his companions as I do from our ship's master and of course of the kind and most helpful Lieutenants. These officers, one could not wish for better, and could rarely find such.
With this I conclude my letter as of this time as I am told that I should hurry back, for my watch and time of learning begins again. I promise to write soon, at short with my time as I am, for though I thoroughly enjoy the challenge, the duty of a Midshipman never ends.

With this thought I leave you.

With love,

your dutiful son

Mathew Amadeus De Guarde

**He ommited the fact that he had tried to smoke and was rather successful of it, no longer hacking and coughing, as he did the first time. He did not think it would be a talent his parents would be too happy about. With a few additional mentions of his middy friends and even those of the younger, he rewrote the letter so that it had no errors that he could find, signed himself again, sealed it carefully and with a faint sigh readied so that it could be delivered and then sent of. They were still kept in ignorance of his dishonorable disrating, and painting a life so lovely on a ship, their worries could be put to rest. He was humble in describing his part, if any in battles, but confirmed each time of his not being afraid, of doing his duty as would be becoming of a gentleman.

He shifted, his soreness reminding him of the reality in which he lived, and he winced as one of the scars, dried blood, tore away and the cut blossomed in renewed fury. They needed not to know of any of this. Just a life, of which they could take pride in. He only hoped that no letter would reach them describing his true situation, or any part of it. Fear of that had halted his hand many a time, when writing. His thoughts strayed to mister Hollow. The man must have been drunk. He would not remember. He ought not remember nothing.

With a heavy sigh he stored his writing tools away, with paper carefully placed so that it would not stain. And now he needed await and hope for a letter to reach him as well. Sometime, soon. It would be doubtful though.