A Letter From the Front Lines
I hope this finds you well. I write to you from the front lines of the War on Christmas, and I fear things are not going so well.
Despite our best efforts, Nativity scenes adorn churches and front lawns, radio stations play Christmas music, and children still openly celebrate. Why even this very day one of the boys lost a leg when a shop-keep wished him a “Merry Christmas”. It is, to put it mildly, disheartening.
We give it our all every day, saying “Happy Holidays” to anyone we see, but the enemy seems to have some kind of body armour, as this only makes them angry.
There is one hope, however. We have an agent, code-named “Santa Claus”, operating inside enemy lines. He poses as one of them, having used the birth certificate of one of their long-dead Saints (Nicholas, I believe) to obtain fake identification. He has, slowly but surely, pushed the religious Holiday inch by inch towards a Secular Observance.
There have been some close calls. Some have voiced suspicion that he is one of us, but they invariably have overstepped the mark. They have accused him of being Satan himself (I suppose because of the similarity in spelling), thus merely appearing to be lunatics. If they ever guess the truth, that he is indeed Odin in disguise, he is as sure as dead.
I am trusting in your discretion, that you will not share this information with anyone else. Sergeant Humbug would skin me alive if he knew that I revealed any of these secrets to you.
Be well, my dearest, and wish me luck. If all goes well from here on, perhaps by some miracle, we can win this and I will be home by X-mas.
Happy Holidays, with all my love,