To Those Left Behind

(Wikimedia Commons)

To those who have paid the price and for those left behind to carry on...

A SOLDIER'S LETTER TO HIS MOTHER:

21 July 1863

Dear Momma,

          They told us to get some shut-eye while we can but I just had to take the time to write you this quick note to say I'm alive and well, all things considered.

          You know that saying, "between a rock and a hard place?" Well, that's where I'm at right now, writing this by candlelight and wishing I was back home eating another slice of your delicious apple pie. The stuff they call food around here barely keeps body and soul together but I guess I can't complain. At least I'm around to eat it.

          How young and naive I was to run away and enlist. I should have listened to Papa when he said it made no sense to pick up a rifle in haste. I didn't understand what he meant back then but I do now. I thought I was fighting for a just cause but all I did was join a war against my own brother.

          Can you tell Elizabeth I love her? God willing, I'll return home from this bloody war in time to see our child take its first steps. The Captain stays, "Stay strong, boys. Remember what we're fighting for!" But, Momma, sometimes it's so hard to remember why any of us is here when all I can hear is the sound of the cannons and all I see are men falling wounded beside me. What about their families? Do they look out the window, praying for a soldier's safe return like I know you do? 

          Well, I guess I'd better stop for now and try to rest. Your little boy will return home a man, Momma. And if for some reason I don't make it back, remember I always tried to do what was right even if to some it made no sense.

Your loving Son.

A MOTHER'S LETTER TO HER SON:

12 August 1863

Dear Son,

          I was so grateful to receive your letter today. I can see by the date it has been some time since you wrote that letter but at least for now I know you are still alive. Your Papa has long since forgiven you for running away to enlist. "Foolishness of a youthful mind," he calls it and now all we can do is hope this fighting stops and pray you come home soon.

          Your darling Elizabeth is well. The baby is due any day now and she fusses about the house like a mother hen. How can a person be happy and sad at the same time? I find myself crying tears of joy when I think of being able to hold my first grandchild soon. But then I find myself thinking back to the days I held YOU in my arms and I cry for what used to be.

          Papa says I am made of pioneer stock. You know how I hate to disappoint your father so for now I will put on a brave face and think of your safe return. I shall even bake a dozen pies in your honor if only the good Lord sees fit to bring my baby back to me, alive and well.

          Stay safe, my son, and know that you are held in the highest regard by your family. A man can only live his life as he sees fit and you now serve your country with honor. What more could anyone ask of you?

Your loving Mother.

To all the sons who served their country with honor and to all those who never returned home...we will always remember you...

          

Flash Fiction Friday

I Won't Be Home For Christmas

by Donna L Martin

Gracie stepped onto the tarmac and looked around. Just another stop in a long line of shows to help with troop moral. She'd never guess it was almost Christmas by the look of the grey barracks surrounded by the mud and slush of a dreary December afternoon.

Tugging her coat closer to her, Gracie ran the last few yards to the mess hall where a temporary stage had been built for the entertainment. She had just enough time to get ready before her curtain call. How many times had she stepped onto one of those stages to sing for men so far from home? One look into their war-weary faces and Gracie could tell the only Christmas wish on their lists was a one way ticket home.

Papa told her when he left her at the train station it would be hard traveling so far away during the holidays. Turned out he was right. But in her heart she knew she was still where she belonged.

"Little girl, you make sure you sing your heart out for those guys. Poor blokes, some won't see another Christmas."

"I will, Papa."

"And remember, look for the northern star and know your mama is always watching over you."

Tears misted Gracie's eyes as she thought of her mama while getting ready for the show. The pain was still a dull ache in her chest even after three years but Gracie knew her mother would be proud of what her little girl was doing.

Gracie did a final check of her makeup and slowly smiled back at her reflection before heading onstage. Outside the world might have forgotten about Christmas but for the next two hours she planned on bringing a little bit of the holiday spirit indoors...

***Okay, it's your turn! Does Gracie help those soldiers forget they're so far from home?  Could there be a special surprise waiting for her as well? Put your creative cap on and add a sentence or add a paragraph. Continue my story or start one of your own. Join the fun and see where this picture prompt takes us!***

A Military Man

Today is Veteran's Day in the United States. Other countries observing this day might call it Armistice Day, Poppy Day, or  Remembrance Day. Whatever you call it, it's a time when people all over the globe remember those who have served on the field of battle. I am considered one of the lucky ones to have grown up with a father around. But my own father, Bernis Joseph Lavergne, isn't around today to personally thank him for his past service so I thought you, my lovely readers, would be kind enough to indulge me this little spotlight on a military man of my own.

My father was born in 1928 and by 1950 he was a young man serving in the Air Force as part of the military police division. While he never served his country overseas during the Korean War, he did manage to offer up his two front teeth in a home front battle. He caught a beer bottle with his mouth one night while trying to stop a bar fight. My father adapted to the changes a military life provided but I'm not sure he was prepared for the pretty little thing who crossed his path during those war years.

Ferol Emma Ownby was four years older and came from sturdy Arkansas stock. While my father had only one sister, my mother came from a much larger family of siblings. My father met his match in her and they were together for more than thirty years until her death when I was twenty-one. She embraced the military life until my father left the Air Force. They moved back to his hometown in the swamps of Louisiana where he lived until his death when I turned twenty-four.

My father was a military man even though he was never chosen to pay the ultimate sacrifice for his country. When he died, I was put in charge of his estate and I thought it fitting he receive a 21-gun salute at his funeral. There is nothing so haunting as the echo of a military farewell to a fallen soldier, whether from the ravages of battle or the end of a long life. It will be a memory I will take with me to my own grave. Besides a heartfelt thank you for service to his country, there is only one other thing I can think of to say to my father...

Good bye, Daddy. I hope you are at peace now.