The Forgotten Soldier

December 24th 1945

The plane roared as we cut through the sky, its aging propeller crying as we flew above the clouds. The rancid smell of old oil filled the troop bay. I sat alone on the once uncomfortable bench that now felt so comforting. Out the window, Riverbridge Lake fell out of sight under the plane.

Riverbridge…It’d been about three years since I’d stepped foot here…since I’d last seen my friends, my family…her.

I reached into my right pocket and pulled out a wrinkled, sun washed photo of a beautiful woman with ocean-blue eyes and sandy-blond hair in a cute, plaid blue dress, sitting out front of a small house with baby-blue shutters.

Everyone had a reason to fight; she was mine. I’d written her a letter every day in boot camp, no matter how tired I was, and she’d write back every chance she got, but that was a little over two and a half years ago. After I was deployed, the letters ground to a halt. But that was changing. I’d finally see her again.

The plane slowed as if fell below the clouds. I took a deep breath and squeezed my bag. After two and a half years of constant plane rides and parachute jumps, the plane descent had become the trigger of a high-powered rifle that could set me off at any point. I tightened my stomach and took deep breaths, still squeezing my bag.

The plane struck the runway with its landing gear bang, I shot my arms up to the right and ducked, and it bounced three more times, bang, bang, bang. I jumped each time it struck the ground. The wheels squealed as they slowed down the seven and a half ton beast.

I looked around the rusted hull of the plane, patched artillery shell holes scattered around, and for a brief moment, a frown appeared on my face. This was the last time I’d be on one of these flying death traps that had become a daily occurrence. I sighed as I opened the side door.

I was more than prepared for the parades I’d heard so much about. The family running up to me crying and then them slowly moving out of the way as me and Becca made eye contact. Her hair blowing in the wind as she ran to me, jumping into my arms, kissing me once for everyone we’d missed while I was gone. This…this is what got me through the day to day.

As the door opened, the tarmac wasn’t covered in a massive crowd of townspeople awaiting my arrival, nor did it house my friends, my family, not even Becca. In fact, it was nothing but a white sheet of snow. The only person, an airport security guard, who walked over as I stepped off the plane.

He nodded at me and said, “Thank you for your service, sir!”

I lifted my head and tilted it to him and said, “Yes, sir. By any chance, do you know where everyone is? I’ve heard so much of vast parades and parties for returning vets.”

He laughed as he patted my shoulder.

I looked at his hand and lowered my eyebrows.

“Come on, man, you only get that once; can’t expect us to do it every time.”

“Once?” I asked.

“Yeah, we did that here back in June, remember? When all you soldiers returned from Europe?”

“But I didn’t return. The war wasn’t over.”

He waved me off and laughed. “Sure.”

A dirty green jeep screeched onto the tarmac, driving straight at me. It stopped a couple of feet away, and a young private stood up on the side and raised his hand to his head and saluted me.

I saluted back.

“Sir,” he said. “I’ve been ordered to take you home. Are you ready?”

I walked around the jeep, tossing my bag into the back. I stepped into the passenger seat and said, “I am.”

The jeep shook violently as we shifted from the paved main streets to the gravel back roads. It reminded me of artillery strikes, the way you could feel your bones chattering as they rained down. The town had barely changed; the only difference was the season. When I’d left, it was just turning summer; the grass was green; the kids tossed baseballs back and forth, chewing gum as they laughed, no school in sight, but now it was Christmas and snow filled the streets and trees, and the kids were bundled up in thick coats tossing snowballs and building snow forts.

We pulled into the driveway of a full house, a small snowman in the yard with a toboggan on its head and a cigar sticking out of its mouth. Through the living room window, there was an intricately decorated tree with handmade ornaments.

The private stopped the Jeep and asked, “Sir, would you like me to walk with you to the door?”

I shook my head and said, “No, thank you,” as I stepped out of the jeep. I grabbed my bag from the back and walked up to my old home. I stopped at the sidewalk and pulled out the photo of Becca. I stared at it and then up at the house. I bit my lip to stop a frown from forming.

I took deep breaths as I walked to the door. I calmly knocked three times and then waited.

A minute later, a jolly, tall, bald man with a big smile and a gray beard that covered his face opened the door. He paused as he looked at me, his eyes glossed over for a moment as he turned and yelled behind himself, “Margret, bring some money, please. The soldiers are collecting donations for vets again.”

My head jerked backward. He didn’t recognize me. His own son. How could it be…Maybe it’s just his bad eyesight; he’s not wearing his glasses. That’s just like my old man.

Mom ran up behind him and held out his wallet. Her jaw fell, but she caught herself. She shook her head as he grabbed it from her.

She didn’t take her eyes off me as he pulled a twenty and handed it to me.

Without thinking, I reached out and grabbed it from his hand, nodding to him.

He smiled and said, “Sir, thank you for your service.” He grabbed the door and shut it. In my face…his own son’s face. It’d been three years since we’d seen each other, but is that enough time to forget your child’s face?

I peered through the living room window as I turned to walk away. Mom and Dad were on the couch, and my siblings were on the floor playing with toys.

I walked to the garage and sat down on a small bench, the one Mom would sit on as she watched me skip and run through the yard while we waited for Dad to get home growing up, but now she’d forgotten me.

What had happened to the years? I gave my life for people who don’t even remember me. Was any of it worth it?

Lights flashed over me as a dark blue Chevy Fleetline pulled in. The car door swung open. My beautiful blond Becca stepped out. Her eyes were just as inviting as I remembered. She slammed the door shut and ran toward me, her heels clicking on the ground.

She remembered me…someone remembered me. I jumped up, my eyes closed and arms our awaiting her embrace. But she just mumbled under her breath, “I should have left sooner; they’re going to be so mad that I’m late,” as she ran past me.

Even the love of my life didn’t remember me. I sat back down and threw my hands over my face.

Her hand smacked the door twice.

My father opened the door and said, “Becca. We’re so glad you made it. We haven’t seen you since Thanksgiving.”

She held a present tightly in her hands. She lowered her head and said, “I’m quite sorry for that.”

“It’s mighty all right,” Dad said. “Come on in.”

She hesitated and said, “There is a strange man on the bench near the garage. I’m unsure of what he needs.”

“You go inside. I’ll handle it.” The door shut, and heavy footsteps closed in on me. He walked around the corner and saw me sitting with my head in my hands.

“Oh, it’s you again,” he said. “Are you okay, sir?”

I bit my lip and shook my head. “No, sir, I miss my family. I haven’t seen them in some time.”

He walked beside me and placed his hand on my shoulder. “Time will do that. How about this? Would you like to spend Christmas with us?”

I nodded. “I’d love to.”

He guided me to the door and brought me into the living room. He smiled and said, “This is the soldier who took our donation; his family has forgotten him, so today he’s going to be family.”

My mother shook her head. “What a shame. I can’t believe someone would forget their own child.”

My teeth gritted behind my smile as I kept quiet.

My little brother picked up one of his presents and handed it to me. He smiled and said, “Here you go, sir. I hope this helps.”

I gave him a smile. “Thank you.” He and my sister deserved forgiveness; neither of them was even seven when I’d left. It’s no wonder they didn’t remember me.

My dad clapped his hands. “Let’s all open one present.”

They all ripped into the presents, but I just sat there in shock. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t believe what was happening. I was a stranger in the middle of a room of familiar faces.

I broke. I threw the present on the ground and jumped to my feet, tears falling from my eyes. I screamed as loudly as Sergeant Smith had every time I’d failed my push-ups.

“Who would forget their child, you ask?” I swallowed loudly. “You!” I pointed at Dad and Mom and said, “You forgot your son.” I pointed at my sister and brother and said, “And you forgot your brother.” My finger shook as I pointed at Becca. Tears poured from my eyes as I cried, “And you…you forgot your love.” I threw my hands to my sides and screamed. “I fought for all of you. I didn’t want to leave…I was forced to. The only thing that kept me going was the thought of coming home to you guys…seeing you. The embrace. I was disappointed when no one was there when I got off the plane, but when no one remembered me, I broke. I’m broke.”

I turned and ran out of the room, kicking through the front door and sprinting harder than in training as I ran down the road searching for peace. I ran until I tasted blood and my legs stopped working.

I fell to the ground, my tears melting a puddle around me. I curled into a ball and slowly rocked, screaming loud, hateful things about them. How could they have forgotten me? I thought I had more meaning than this.

Lights peered through the sides of my arms. I looked up to see Becca’s headlights once again. I fought to stand back up, my legs screaming in pain as I limped away. She slowly drove beside me. She screamed from the driver’s side window, “Please come back. Please! Let us explain.”

I scrunched my face and turned to her. “Explain how you forgot about me? How could you ever explain that? There is no excuse.”

“Please, baby, please get in the car.”

I had to. Her voice was the only solace I could find. I took a deep breath and swung the passenger door open. I sat down and crossed my arms the same way I did when Mom wouldn’t let me get a candy bar.

“What is it?” I asked.

Tears soaked her face as she turned around in the car. She took a deep breath and replied, “Have you even seen yourself?”

“What?” Of course I hadn’t seen myself. There are no mirrors in war.

She handed me her pocket mirror from the dash and said, “Look, my love.”

Flipped it up and stared in horror. My face was gray and shriveled. My eyes looked oh so hollow, as if nothing was staring back. I looked like a man who’d just come back from war. Scarred and bruised.

I looked over at her, and tears ran down the grooves of my face as I said, “I don’t even recognize myself.”

I sat in silence during the short drive back to the house, just staring at myself. How had I changed this much in just three years?

We pulled back into the driveway. Mom and Dad were standing there.

She laid her head on my shoulder and said, “How was I supposed to recognize you when even you can’t?”

I stepped out of the car; my feet crunched on the gravel of the driveway. Mom and Dad ran over and hugged me.

I looked at Dad, as tears fell down his cheeks, something I’d never seen.

He said, “I can’t believe it’s you.”

My siblings wrapped their arms around me. My younger brother smiled and said, “I’m sorry.”

My sister cried, “I can’t believe you’re back.”

Becca stepped out of the car and slowly walked up to us. My parents and siblings stepped away. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders and kissed me as hard as she could.

I squeezed her as tight as I could and cried out. “I’m so sorry. I…I thought you’d all forgotten me.”

She looked up at me with those same eyes I’d fallen in love with eight years ago, and said, “Never.”