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Back
to the War "Man," a voice purred. She had legs that
wouldn't quit. And a pair of…" "That all you ever think about?" "Well, dang! There anything else?"
someone drawled.
"Cut to the chase, Henderson. Did ya or didn't ya?" "I'm getting' there. She let me kiss her…fer
about an hour. Finally, I was headin' for a home run and…" Arms folded on his chest, Sgt. Saunders leaned back against
the side of the jostling truck, hoping to catch a few winks before they
got there. His helmet tipped forward, covering his closed eyes.
In spite of the week spent on furlough, he was more tired than he could
ever remember. "Well," the boy paused a moment to heighten the
suspense, "her mama and papa walked in. Daddy started yellin'
in French something about marry-ahg, and I wasn't about to wait for a
translation. I went right out the window, followed by a fryin' pan.
Landed in the bushes on my keister. I got up and hightailed it right
out of there. Didn't stop running for musta been forty-five
minutes." Saunders shook his head. Kids. "You go back again?" "Nah. Anyway, all good things come to an
end." Saunders sucked in his breath. All good things come to
an end. The words rolled over and over in his mind, sticking there.
The knot that had been lurking in his stomach tightened. It felt
like his entire body was going to be sucked inside himself, turning him
inside out. He
clenched his fists as he struggled against it.
It seemed that was all he had done for days…weeks…no years. Over
and over he had pushed it back into the spot he kept it in, hidden but
always waiting.
So many buddies gone. As
much as he hated it, dying was expected. And through everything,
he'd been able to keep his emotions pretty much in check. But
Ann? No. That was different. In
his mind he could clearly see her broken body lying under the shattered
beams. That wasn't the way it was supposed to be. It should
have been him. He had warned her that he could die, leaving her with
only memories. It happened to soldiers. But good, gentle
ladies aren't supposed to die in war. It wasn't fair! Her
death threatened to unleash something he couldn't control any longer, and
his eyes began to mist. Somewhere on the outskirts of consciousness a rough voice
broke through the anger that welled up.
"Playtime's over. Start gathering your things.
We'll be there in five. All good things come to an end." Saunders swallowed hard and wiped his palms
across his eyes. To the casual observer he might have just been
wiping away the sleep. He pushed the anger, the pain, the fear, the
memories back down where they belonged. Back where they couldn't
hurt him. Breathing deeply, he straightened his body and slipped the
Thompson onto his shoulder. Back to the war. |
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