Care of the Political Agent
Waziristan
Third tent on the left up a nullah,
out of the firing line of snipers
13 June 1928
My dear Ottilie,
I have just received the news of your engagement. Your dear sister Christabel was so kind as to write and let me know. He sounds like a very fine fellow, and of course one cannot but be in awe of naval types. I am certain it was the blockade that brought the Kaiser to his knees.
I don’t have long to write this, as we are up at dawn to do a patrol in search of the tribesemen who stole rifles and grenades from the armoury by blowing a hole in the back of it. We’ll have to get them back before they are used against us, and luckily we have excellent trackers. These are exciting times for us on the North-West Frontier, but then they always are. One expects to be killed at a moment’s notice, and is gleefully surprised when one isn’t.
My dear, there is no subtle way to put this, and so I shall eschew subtlety.
I am so heartily glad and joyful that you have found a worthier object of your affections than I was. I have always known about the inclination of your heart, and I have always been bewildered as to how to deal with it. You know the reasons, and there is no need to go over them. What I do know is that if I had ever had any sense, my affections would have settled on you. Of the four sisters, you are the closest to being an angel, and I am certain that your fortunate husband will find the touch of your hand a balm to the spirit.
But, Ottilie, my dear, I have never been, and never could be, good enough for you, and I would have remained painfully myself. You could not have been my salvation, because no one ever will be. I am one of the damned. I am reconciled to experiencing love only in my imagination, and reconciled to my fate here in this most godforsaken and lunatic corner of the Empire. This is where my destiny lies, and I have made a point of letting everyone know that one day I would like my bones to rest in Peshawar, in a grave where in spring it will be covered in peach blossom.
Ottilie, my dear, I wish you the most profound happiness with your husband. May he treat you with care and reverence. You have taken steps to free yourself of me, and I only beg you to ensure that you do it resolutely and absolutely, so that you may live to attain the happiness with him that you so richly deserve.
Yours ever, your old Pal from next door,
Major Archie P