Letter from John Chancellor

11th September, 1943

It is late.
I should be turned in, but I must write.
It’s the old trouble again,
            the night and the moon.
We are lying at anchor.
There is no-one to whom
I can express my emotions,
            soaring in the heights.

Up on deck,
I can be as silent as the night
and become a part of the night.
            I have never seen the moon.
as she is tonight.

Below deck,
men sleep, unaware. Nightmares
of some trembling foreign ground.
I cannot stand the shock
            of going down.
Back to reality, daybreak, sound.

If tomorrow, I could picture in my mind
this night—the pitch blackness of my mind—
I would not expect you to feel
            as I feel,
the painter of some mysterious
                        boundless sea.

If tomorrow, all wonder is lost,
know only this—the beauty of the moon.
The silence of the waves, the night,
            and me.

I drink it all.
                        But I must drink alone.