Dear Applejack,
They’ve got a good structure going on here in Canterlot, I’ll give them that. The second we got off the train last week, we were led to the barracks to make ourselves comfortable. We saw lots of other ponies training in the courtyard between the platform and the wide cobble road leading toward the barracks—earth and pegasi mostly, but also a few unicorns for variety. Even though you’d think the unicorns would more plentiful, I heard on the train that most of them are being tutored in magical warfare at Celestia's Academy. I guess the wash-outs make it to the frontlines like the rest of us.
The barracks are sparse, but I don’t pay it no mind. Some of the other stallions complain about how we only get one set of sheets, a pillow, and a small bed to our names (barding and such isn’t so much as ours as it is us being allowed to wear it.) Personally, I can’t see the problem. Keep it simple; that’s what I say.
The food ain’t nothing like home, though. It’s more like mush and hay. It’s something that you get to used to, I suppose, but I sure could go for a few apples right now.
There’s talk of us recruits getting sent off to the front within the month, maybe even in a couple weeks. Makes a pony wonder just what’s going on out there with the Dogs that’s got the princesses so on edge. No real info coming through, aside from rumors. I’ll write again on that when I hear more.
The war looms, AJ, bigger than anything I’ve seen before. Makes me feel small, and that ain’t something I’m used to, you know? Like being a pebble and standing next to a mountain. I don’t like it. But I’ll weather it, don’t you worry. Not too much your big brother can’t handle, eh?
Oh, and they tried to take your hat—said it wasn’t part of the dress code—but don’t you worry. I set them straight. I’ll take good care of it, just like I promised.
Tell Granny and Applebloom I love them, and you too.
Write again soon,
Big Macintosh