A soldier’s home coming

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A soldier’s home coming

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After fourteen long months in the hell that is the young man stepped off the train taking him home. To most he looked just like all the other young men and women in uniform. Some just looked at him as if he was something to be ignored. More just didn’t care to be bothered. Still more looked away as in shame of what he represented. All of this he was used to, so he just walked on as he had been told to do.

As he past the train stations bar an old man called out. “Hay Green Beret! Care to join me for a drink?”

Looking over at the old man, and then his watch the young Green Beret decided he had enough time. “Sure, sir. I’ll join you.” Walking over to the man the young soldier saw the cane leaning against the bar stool. Setting down his bags he took the stool next the old man. Holding out his hand “Sergeant Tom Highway sir.”

Smiling the hand shook his hand saying. “Mike. Bar keep, two beers please?”

“Thank you sir.” The young reached for his wallet to pay for the beers, only to be stopped the elder gentalman.

“Sorry son but your money so no good here.”

“Sir please let me pay my own way.”

“Son you already have.”

“What do you mean, sir?”

“Son, look around. Tell me what you see.”

“I don’t understand, sir.”

The bar tender leans over and says. “Welcome home trooper. The next one is on the Boss.”

“Thanks, but I’ll pay my own way, sir”

“Son, don’t you get it. You already have paid.” The bar tender says.

Finally the young man looks around the bar. What he sees doesn’t make any sense. The whole place is filled with nothing but soldiers. Soldiers of all ages, counties and ranks. Old foes sitting together sharing a drink, and talking of past glories and pains. Along one wall stands a juke-box playing songs from all ages.

“Where am I?” the young soldier asks.

Looking over at him the old man gives him a said smile. “Welcome to Fiddler’s Green, Sergeant. Welcome to your new home.”

“What do mean my new home?”

“Son, what is the last thing you remember?”

“We were on a routine patrol sweep on the company’s supply rout. We had just past a small town about half way to our base when we came under fire. I saw Thompson and How get hit. I ran out and pulled them back behind my Humvee. I remember firing my rifle in all directions giving cover fire so the rest of the team could get our wounded out. Then a blinding flash fallowed by a whole lot of heat. Then I was waking up on the train, I most have blacked out. I don’t remember paying for my ticket on the train so it must have been on hell of a blast.”

“Son, think it’s time for you to realize just what happen in that blast.” The old man said.

“What do you mean?”

“Like I said earlier, welcome to Fiddler’s Green. This is where all soldiers go when their time is up. Son you died in that exposition.”

“No! That can have happened. I need to get home. I promised my son. You have to let go home.”

The bar tender looked at the young man with a sad smile. “Sorry son, but the Boss don’t let those who have paid the price you have to go back. He does look after those they left behind though. Your wife and daughter will be just fine.”

“I don’t have a daughter, I have a son.”

“You only thought she was your son.”

“Is that what he wanted to tell me before I left? That he was a girl on the inside?”

“Yup. That is exactly what she wanted to tell you.”

“Damn it all to hell! Was she that afraid of me?”

Laying on a hand on the young man’s arm the old man got his attention. “No. son she’s not afraid of you, just of disappointing you.”

“Charley would have never been a disappointment to no matter how she lived her life.”

“Now that is what I wanted to hear son. Come on have another beer before you go on. Bar keep another around please?”

After having two more beers with the old soldier the young Beret got up to leave. “Where do I go now, sir?”

The old man looked up at him and said. “Head out to the number seven platform. Your train will be the shortly to take you on home trooper. Remember you’re a Green Beret.”

“You got it old timer.”

“Oh and by the way that little girl of your’s is going to make one Hell-of-a-Green Beret when she grows up.”

The old man said as the young man just way and walked on down to his next train the one that would take him on to Heaven.

Back at the bar the bar tender looked over at the old man. “Michael you know Dad doesn’t like it when you tell them too much about the future.”

Looking over at the young man behind the counter top he reaches over and tapped the hole in his hand saying.

“Like when you told them that you were coming back to save them all on judgment day?”

“Hay! What can I say? I had to give them Hope Michael. I know you may be an Archangel and all, but every now and then you get to give them a little bit of a left. Me? I’m stuck here tending shop while you guys get to help out in their times of need.”

“Oh poor you. No office sir, but you’re the Boss’ only son. I hate to say it but we all have our jobs to do. Your’s is to wash away their sins and mine is to get to the next stop.”

“Come on Old Timer we need to get ready for our next customer. Do you think they’ll ever learn to live in peace?”

“I hope so Jesus. Because I’m real tried of welcoming those who pay the price for their peace.” Said Archangel Michael. “I hope so.”

Outside on the walkway the sing for Fiddlers Green continued to burn in welcome for all the soldiers making their way home for the last time.

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To all those who have paid the price for our freedom and hope of peace I dedicate this conversation to you. From one Beret to all others I salute you all!

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Comments

Outstanding!

Thanks for the GREAT story!

Larimus

I salute

I salute all the men and women who have served our great country

belle

What great little tribute

What great little tribute story.
As a retired AF Security Police Sr. NCO, I salute you for it. I also extend a SALUTE to ALL those brave Men and Women who have given their all to their comrades in arms and to their Country.
Our Nation has been blessed with those who have stepped forward in her defense, when the times have called for our citizens to do so.
Another VERY SPECIAL GROUP I wish to SALUTE and offer my heartfelt thanks and condolences, are ALL the Spouses, Children, and other Family members who have lost their loved ones, after "loaning" them to us in the Service of our Nation.

I do know how it feels to lose people you serve with in combat, you always remember them and honor them in your mind.
377th Security Police Sq. "Proven in Combat" 66-67/68-69 TSN AB, Vietnam.

Jess

I am not sure what your connection is, but it is strong.

Thank you and those that have served, continue to serve and those that gave the ultimate price of our freedom.

SDom

Men should be Men and the rest should be as feminine as they can be

Present Arms.

Lt. Elizabeth Ray saluting child, 1944

thank you for the cry

your words are very strong and I hope touch every soul I wish that women and men did not need to lay their lifes down so others could have what we have in peace may there be naught but laughter in the halls God made for those who served

christi

Thanks

From this old scarred vet I thank you from the bottom of my heart for understanding some of what we have been through. I ache but now stand proud and offer my salute to all of my brothers and sisters-in-arms living and gone but never forgotton

The Boy Who Can Never Go Home

With one of the most significant centenaries in human history rapidly approaching, I thought you might appreciate this

http://youtu.be/RgnGcXscfeo

Just like his old father before him
Who served in the Great War would sing
We're proud to serve Kaiser or King

They'll always find someone who's willing
To take Tigermoth chances alone
The boy who should never have flown

Was thrown a hundred yards
Blown into smithereens
A crowd drew near but failed to hear
Look I'm over here and still...one of you wait...

The young man's despondence soon halted
When gently a voice that he knew
Took shape slowly out of the blue

Flight Captain James at your service
Last month I went down in the drink
You're not as alone as you think

Here's some of your chums from last Thursday
Shot down in their prime over Rome
The boys who can never go home

Were thrown a hundred yards
Blown into smithereens
Until we meet again my friends
No regrets and Lily Marlene sings again

Ban nothing. Question everything.

From one tired vet to another....

D. Eden's picture

Thank you from the bottom of my heart - for going before me to show me the way, for standing between the darkness and the light, and for writing this.

As I spent the past four days visiting my fallen brothers, I shared with them where I am in my life, and I thanked them for making it possible for me to become the person that I am. Every day I feel them looking down on me, and I hope that they approve of how I am living my life, of the person that I am becoming.

He wasn't my father, but he taught me more about life and more about leading men than anyone i had ever met - Gunnery Sargeant Thomas Burnett, USMC, thank you for being you - and for showing me what life is really all about. Tommy, not only did you take a young Ensign under your wing, but you were the one person who saw the real me. You were right all along Tommy - I am a woman. It took a long time for me to admit it to myself, but you saw right through to my soul. You kept me sane through it all, and you helped me cope with my issues.

I miss you Tommy - I love you big brother.

Dallas

D. Eden

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus

Wonderful Surprise

I started to read this because of your other works, I am so glad that I did. It is not often we get surprised like this.
Thank you

Thank you

Jess

Thank you for this story from one heart that speaks to the hearts of many.

(((hugs)))

Jeri
(E-8 retired)

Jeri Elaine

Homonyms, synonyms, heterographs, contractions, slang, colloquialisms, clichés, spoonerisms, and plain old misspellings are the bane of writers, but the art and magic of the story is in the telling not in the spelling.

Excellent!

I lost a client of mine who was sixteen years Navy on the 26th. I am an In Home Care Giver for the elderly and the handicapped. George was a wonderful man who cared about everyone. He spent most of his time as a Radar Tech during World War Two. I took care of him since 2005. He died of prostate cancer on the 26th at approximately 3:30 pm.at the age of 93. He is survived by his wife Jackie who is 84. She is also a wonderfully caring person who is like a mother to me. They are both Pearl Harbor Survivors.

Rest in peace George.

Vivien

From a tired old vet , I

From a tired old vet , I thank you for this beautiful tale ....May God bless you

Halfway down the trail to

jacquimac's picture

Halfway down the trail to Hell in a shady meadow green,
are the Souls of all dead troopers camped near a good old-time canteen,
and this eternal resting place is known as Fiddlers' Green.

Marching past, straight through to Hell, the Infantry are seen,
accompanied by the Engineers, Artillery and Marine,
for none but the shades of Cavalrymen dismount at Fiddlers' Green.

Though some go curving down the trail to seek a warmer scene,
no trooper ever gets to Hell ere he's emptied his canteen
and so rides back to drink again with friends at Fiddlers' Green.

And so when man and horse go down beneath a saber keen,
or in a roaring charge fierce melee you stop a bullet clean,
and the hostiles come to get your scalp,
just empty your canteen and put your pistol to your head
and go to Fiddlers' Green.

Too Hard To Read

I served 66-69' and was against the war, almost went to Canada. When I came home in uniform, a young lady spit on me and called me a baby killer...