A Little Story

I never know how to begin things like this. I've been staring at this blank text box for a solid five minutes, watching its blinking cursor taunt me. At first, I thought I had nothing to say, until I realized that it's actually quite the opposite. There are many thoughts to write about. Too many thoughts, in fact, and too few words to express them. So for now, I guess I'll tell a story...

At 18 years of age, Mary-Jane made the mistake of falling in love with a military man. Louis was 23-years-old at the time. The son of Mexican immigrants, he never received a high school education. Instead, he joined the army as a private and had spent the last few years rising to sergeant rank. He treated Mary-Jane well and, with the two of them being so young, it came as no surprise when they married within the year. You see, it was 1942, and getting married was not only what young people did, but what they were encouraged to do.

But the honeymoon phase was extinguished almost as soon as it had begun, for the ever-growing shadow of the war had reached them. The couple had only been together a short time when, in the early months of 1943, Louis was shipped out to North Africa. He was to help the US armed forces drive the Axis powers out of the Mediterranean. Teary-eyed, Mary-Jane and Louis said their goodbyes, expecting, hoping, to see one another again soon.

During the months that followed, the tides of war had turned in the Allied forces' favor. Hitler's success had begun to stall and American troops were steadily taking back control of the Mediterranean, inching their way up the southernmost tip of Italy. Meanwhile, back in the States, Mary-Jane had recently learned that she was, as the people of that time would have said. "with child." She busied herself with various jobs, trying to make ends meet and get everything ready for welcoming a new life into the world. Thus, in August, 1943, she gave birth to a baby boy and Louis, unbeknownst to him, became a father. Mary-Jane couldn't wait to surprise her husband with the news whenever he returned home. But fate, cunning and cruel, had other plans.

On September 9th, 1943, just three weeks after the birth of his son, Louis' troop had been captured off the coast of Italy by the Nazi German army. Louis was officially announced Missing In Action. Eventually, he was presumed dead. And somewhere on the other side of the world, his widow, as she rocked the baby in her arms to sleep, was weeping.

(to be continued...)