Letters Home

Private First Class Richard Kowalewski, 20, an Army Ranger, was killed in action last week in Mogadishu. He had written faithfully to a hometown friend in Crucible, Pennsylvania. Some excerpts:

AUG. 11: I love my country and everything it stands for. I am in a position that I may have to give my life for my country.

I must also say a few words for the 3rd Ranger Battalion. As you well know, I love this. Despite how we ((soldiers)) all fight and mess with each other, there is a bond here that you have to be a part of to understand. I am very confident in the leadership of the 3rd Ranger Battalion. We are the best.

AUG. 20: I kept waking up all night long. I sleep in the corner of our tent. I must have rolled over and stared at the stars for hours . . . There are a few times in a person's life that really make him or her think. One of those being when you think it might be your time to go.

SEPT. 3: I've been here nine days, and it feels like nine years. The days are becoming longer and longer. My day started at 4 this morning.

SEPT. 9: I am not sure of what to listen to and what to blow off anymore. About the only thing that I'm sure of is I want to go home and get the hell out of here.

SEPT. 10: Last night was a wild night here. The fighting started about 3:30 p.m. and lasted well into the night. The good news is it wasn't any of our people. There were American troops involved, but they weren't Rangers.

SEPT. 19: It's the same old b.s. here. The only thing that has changed is the day. And that makes me one day closer to coming home.

SEPT. 22: In today's intelligence brief, we received some real upsetting news. Tonight we are supposed to get hit by 150 gunmen. The men are said to have women and children holding hands walking in front of the gunmen as they shoot -- sort of a human shield. Don't get me wrong, but I'm scared, real damn scared.

SEPT. 24: I'm starting to get real homesick. The best news is those 250 ((sic)) people turned out to be a hoax.

SEPT. 26: Yesterday was probably the coldest, darkest, saddest day of my life. I stood at attention as three American soldiers were rolled by in caskets draped with American flags. War is very sad and kills everyone in some way. I can't help but think what might happen if it had been me in one of those caskets.

SEPT. 27: I'm being as careful as I can. I carry a loaded weapon with me everywhere I go. I don't hesitate one bit by showing it to the faces of these Somalis that are always around us.