April 11th, 1945
I barely remembered what happened today. I got up, had breakfast and fed my dog, Brandy. I was interrupted in my daily routines by a knock on the door. Wondering who would come to the house at such an early time, I opened the door, to be greeted by the solemn, young face of a Digger. Unemotionally, I put out my hand, and was given a letter, the texture of which I would never forget. My own emotions had shocked me into a robotic state, yet I could still register that the envelope was among one of the softest materials I had ever encountered. Such a beautiful thing, for such harsh contents.