Picture courtesy of Managua Gunn
Just back from a visit to Washington DC with my daughter following her college graduation. We stopped to see the WWII memorial. My dad’s service was heavily on my mind when I saw this picture. As we were there, a veteran was being interviewed by a group of young students for a video journal and it got me to thinking.
Word Count: 101
The Old Guard
Hunched in his chair, he scanned the WWII Memorial. He was 17 when he joined up and shipped out to Pearl. Memories unbidden flooded in.
One of the last standing, the ghosts of his brothers were thick in the air around him again.
Awareness of his singularity ached like a severed limb, the old guard now gone. Lost in his reverie, remembering what they were fighting for so long ago, he slowly saluted.
These young ones may never know the sacrifices they made; he hoped they never would.
Nodding his readiness, his son pushed him up the ramp to the van.
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© Erin Leary