What most moved me in his letter was the sense of frustration that permeated the lieutenent's words: the frustration of never quite being able to depict or explain anything to his full satisfaction.

“Ever since that happened to me, I haven't been able to give myself to anyone in…”

“But like a boat with a twisted rudder, I kept coming back to the same place. I …”

“Strong and independent? I’m neither. I’m just being pushed along by reality, wh…”

“I’ve become quite efficient, both technically and physically, at opening a hole…”