After the war Peter’s teacher figured it would be a kind gesture to have their students write letters to veterans. Most of the students wrote short paragraphs where they were thanked for their service. The average length was a couple of paragraphs, while some only sent a couple of sentences.
Peter wrote four handwritten pages. He walked the veteran through the trauma they were gonna experience. Heartfelt descriptions of the emotional stress. He told them how the war might’ve ended, but it would continue in his heart, mind and dreams. Peter didn’t thank them for their service, but apologized for their loss. Peter knew the pain, he had seen it in his soldiers. He put as much experience he could into the letter.
When his teacher mailed the letters to an army office, Peter’s letter were covered in their tears.
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Upon the letters arrival to the army office, a secretary opened and read the letters. The war might be over, but they still made sure no one gave any information to those who shouldn’t have it. Most letters were then quickly dispatched to several veteran- and army hospitals both in and out of country. Peter’s letter was at the bottom of the pile. The secretary read it, and then added a quick note of; “Sir, i believe you should read this” and put it in the ingoing pile belonging to a Major in the British army. The Major too read the letter, and it still held the faint scent of salt. It would be a lie to not acknowledge that also the major contributed to the saline content of the letter.
The major had the secretary copy up the letter. That copy was printed up in as many copies as they could. “Peter’s Apology” was sendt my mail, carrier, train and car to as many soldiers as they could reach. After six months, every british veteran had recieved an envelope containing “Peter’s apology”. No soldier knew who the legendary ‘Peter’ was. Some thought it was a conspiracy by the higher-ups to try to make up for the damages they had caused. Others swore it was a genuine letter. No one knew for sure. Only a secretary knew it had come from a school, but Peter was a common name, and it didn’t feel right to look into it.
After some months, an envelope carrying the ensignia of the british army found itself in the mailbox of the Pevensies. Mr Pevensie gathered the mail, and wearily opened the letter. An hour later, Susan Pevensie came home from school, and was met with her crying father on the floor. She held him as he cried, and saw the letter in his hand. She needed naught but some glances to see what it was. She recognised the style instantly, and as he held her sobbing father she whispered.
“He truly was magnificent”
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