text: 14 February 1778 To my dearest Maria, I sincerely hope all is well. How are you holding up throughout this war? I know I haven’t written to you in a while. I truly long to see you all once again. Everyday I miss you more and more. Remember when we were young? I often have memories of the fresh Philadelphia air filling our lungs as we lay on the soft grass in the meadow. While I am writing this, it is hard to suppress my grin while reminiscing on such simpler times... I miss my work as a teacher and all the wonderful children I taught. This treasured innocence is now thrown away, never to be resurfaced, for what I have seen at Valley Forge can never be erased from my memory. My decision to aid the Continental Army may have been a grave mistake. The conditions here are so terribly dreadful. Soldiers are practically naked, on the brink of death, and starving. Watching all of these brave men slowly lose their spirits is nothing short of heartbreaking. With my brother now living with his wife in Massachusetts, Mother and Father have no one to take care of them. They are left to tend to the farmland by themselves (I fear you now know what the purpose of this letter is for). Because of these horrible conditions, I have decided it would be best to leave Valley Forge. I understand that leaving in the frigid winter is practically suicide, but I cannot die without trying to see you again. I can already imagine what a scolding you would give to me if you were here: “What a blithering fool you are! Why on EARTH would you ever think this is a good idea?!? I swear, if you make it back, it’ll be me that kills you!”. By the time you are reading this, I have already started my journey back (mainly so you will not be able to talk me out of it). Please allow me to elaborate, Maria. Have you ever seen a man die? I have. Many times. Far too many times to count. I think us in the medical department try to pretend that it doesn’t bother us each time we watch a patient pass on, but it does. No matter how many times I’ve witnessed it, it never seems to get easier. It truly makes me feel grateful for what I have and the life I have lived so far. But also, it makes me think of all the things in life I wish I had done. Mortality is horrifying. Watching men slowly meet their demise knowing there is nothing you can do to help starts to take a toll on you after a while. I often find myself thinking: Could that be me next? I will now include a few excerpts from my diary: “25 December 1777 Although it has only been a week at Valley Forge, the blizzards show no signs of stopping. Our living quarters (cabins) are crammed, only about 16’ by 14’ with dozens of men inside just one. With the harsh winters forcing everyone to stay inside, the influenza is spreading rapidly. The insulation is poor and it is freezing on the inside. The smoke from the fire is entering our lungs, making us even more run-down. Merry Christmas. 4 January 1778 With each day I spend at Valley Forge, I find it harder to believe in the Revolution. Today was no exception. This night when walking to my sleeping quarters, I overheard the lieutenants discussing how their force was shrinking at a detrimental rate. Over 1,000 men have died from smallpox, and this number will only skyrocket as the days go on. It fills me with despair to watch these brave soldiers die, knowing that their death may be in vain. Instead of dying a noble death fighting for liberty and freedom, they are forced to spend their final moments sick, vulnerable, and afraid. I never would have volunteered for a cause as hopeless as this if I was aware of what I would be getting myself into. If there is a Hell where mortals can roam, it is Valley Forge. God bless us all.” Life here is anything but luxurious, Maria. We are starving and malnourished, making it impossible to help sick patients. Men can hardly stand on their own and are being brought here only to die. I am aware that General George Washington is doing his utmost best with what he was given, but nothing seems to be working out. Even someone as influential as himself can’t seem to keep up the morale. The soldiers haven’t said anything, but you can tell just by the gruesome look in their eyes that they’ve already given up. We will stand no chance against the ruthless British army if things stay the same. We are left with empty stomachs most days while the British eat like kings. Our army cannot even afford to buy enough for one full meal from the Patriot farmers. Ever since I came, I have even started to miss the taste of your dreadful pumpkin pie. That taste, no matter how insipid, would provide me with the comfort of familiarity, whereas here, there are only unknowns. Everyday I am here, it seems I get one step closer to my own demise and I am not willing to play with the odds of life and death anymore. With the statistics as they are now, around half of the soldiers are sick, and I might just be another body to be buried. My lovely Maria, I know you would have wanted me to stay and help until the end, but I hope what I have written so far gives you a better understanding of my decision. I mean, I’m a teacher for God’s sake! I’m hardly qualified for this line of work. No matter how many times you write to me assuring me everything is fine on the homefront, it does nothing to ease my worries. Back in Philadelphia, it is now only me and them. They are old and can hardly take care of themselves anymore. They are extremely reliant on me to help around the house and I feel terrible about burdening you with them. I know you do what you can to help out my mother and father and I thank you kindly for it. Alas, they aren’t getting any younger. If something were to happen while I was at Valley Forge, I would never forgive myself for not being there. Furthermore, I miss you all very much and wish to be with you especially again, my love. For the weeks I have been here, nothing has improved. General Washington has tried his hardest but his efforts may in fact be in vain. I have nothing but respect for Washington, but no matter how hard he tries there is practically nothing he can do to improve the conditions at Valley Forge. I genuinely have tried. I hope you know that. I am not one to quit, but this is not for the faint of heart. The conditions are horrible and the whole army seems to be slowly withering away. My own health is at risk due to the lack of food and the chances of me contracting smallpox. This reason may be selfish, but my life at home is so dear to me. I want to die being surrounded by those who I care about. At Valley Forge, my death would be just another statistic. It strongly pains me to say this, but my time here has been proven to be useless. I do not like to see my fellow Patriots on the brink of death. I am embarrassed to say this, but I have completely lost faith in the Continental Army’s success. We stand no chance. I feel as though the most important lesson one can get out of this is that sometimes you must put yourself before others. Please do take care of yourself, Maria. Perhaps if I return home, we can finally be together again. Do not lose faith in me, my love. I know you will be disappointed in me leaving but I also know that you will be understanding of what I have been through. The chances of me making it back home are slim, but those odds are greater than me surviving at Valley Forge. If I do however face my utmost demise, I would like to say that I have no regrets. However, that would be lying. My biggest regret would be not telling you how much I truly love you. I would shout it from the rooftops if I could. Do take care of yourself for me. Hopefully we will meet again and laugh about this matter in the future. Please tell my parents that I wish them well. I won’t ask you to pray for me, but I may need it. I love you. Yours truly, Emelia Smith