Never Coming Home

August 18, 1942

I heard the doorbell ring, waking me up from my dreamless sleep. I heard the opening of the front door and muffled voices, and then the door closed. I got out of my bed, straightening out my nightgown, and going to the bathroom. I splashed cool water on my face and brushed my teeth. I went back to my room to dress into my clothes for the day. I dressed up in my light pink dress and some brown platform shoes, fixing up my hair in a loose bun.

I went down the stairs and to the kitchen where my cousin Adam was sitting at the table, fiddling with an envelope and Aunt Clare at the stove.

"Morning," I said quietly, taking a seat by Adam.

"Morning, Monty," Adam said, smiling at me.

"Good morning, my dear," Aunt Clare said without turning from the stove.

Aunt Clare set plates with eggs and bacon in front of us and sitting down herself. We ate in silence, but then I broke it.

"What do you have there, Adam?" I asked, nodding towards his letter that was beside him.

"Oh, this?" He said, picking it up delicately with his fingers like he has never seen paper before. "It's a telegram."

"Well, open it for my sake," Aunt Clare said.

Adam opened the letter, taking out a piece of paper and reading it. His brow furrowed, his expression clearly filled with worry. He sighed, and covered his face with his hands. This immediately made my anxiety level rise.

"Adam? What is it?" I said.

He sighed, fixing his blue eyes on me. "I've been called to war."

My breathing stopped as I stared at him in disbelief. "What?"

"I'm going to be shipped out to Germany," He explained. "I have to report to the training facility tomorrow morning."

"So soon?" Aunt Clare looked at her son with glossy eyes. "Couldn't they just deploy other soldiers? You're only nineteen!"

"Please, mom," He said.

I looked at my half eaten eggs, picking at them with my fork. I didn't feel so hungry anymore. My cousin was going to be shipped to war, and I may or may not ever see him again. Just like my father. I couldn't bear the thought of my cousin going to war and dying. I couldn't let him go, it was just too much.

"It's for the good of the country," Adam said, and by saying this I had snapped.

"Don't," I said, my voice cracking a bit. "Don't ever say that."

"Monty, you can't just expect me to stand here and let our country lose to the Japanese and the Germans!" He said.

"No, Adam!" I said harshly. "Don't you dare say that again."

"Monty..." He said.

"No! That's exactly what my father said!" I said coldly. "And look at where he is now..."

"Monty, darling, please," Aunt Clare put a hand on my shoulder.

"No, Auntie!" I said, and shook her off. "Adam, you can't go! You can't! What if you get hurt?"

"Then I died a happy man," He said. "As long as you and mom are safe."

We were silent after my outburst. The gloom settled in as I thought about having Adam leave, abandoning his mother and I, bleeding to death out there. I didn't want him to suffer from what my father had to go through. I wanted everything to just go away and leave us alone, every damn enemy of America to die, to incinerate at the spot. I wanted God to smite every enemy that has caused pain to every family, to every wife, to every child. All I wanted was revenge. I played with the chain around my neck, thinking all of these things, of revenge.

"Why couldn't I just go out there and fight?" I hadn't realized that I shared my thought out loud.

"What?" Adam stared at me like had grown a second head.

"Why can't I go out there?" I said, a little louder this time.

"Monty, you're just a girl!" My Aunt exclaimed. "You are meant to be here while all of the men go out!"

"Auntie, if Adam can go, then maybe I might have that chance, too!" I said softly.

"Monty, you can't," Adam said, his face showing sorrow.

"No, Adam, please," I said, getting up from the kitchen table and running up the stairs to my room.

I threw the door close and collapsed onto my bed, the sob that I was holding back spilling out of me. The tears stained my blankets. I kept thinking about Adam, about him dying, and no one coming to help him, letting him bleed. I kept having these morbid thoughts of him dying in battle. It made me cry even harder.

I got up from my spot on my bed, crawling towards my night stand and pulling the drawer open to retrieve the bullet. I held it between my fingers like it was delicate. My band brushed against the chain that hung around my neck. I jumped up from my bed and to my desk where I kept some pliers. I took them out and pierced a hole through the tip of the bullet. I took my chain off, pulling it through the hole, and then hanging it back on my neck. I felt a little better, but I still felt that void inside of me.

For the rest of the morning, I stayed in my bed reading. It was nearly two o'clock, and I haven't done anything productive. I heard a knock on the door and looked up from my book.

"Come in!" I said.

The door opened and Adam came in, but the sight of him made my heart drop, and most importantly what he was wearing. He wore an army uniform, the pale green with the symbol of a private on the arm sleeve.

"How do I look?" He said, modeling it for me. "Got it in the mail after breakfast."

"Dashing," I said quietly, averting my eyes towards my book. I couldn't help but let a few tears fall from my eyes, splashing onto the pages of my book.

"Hey, Monty," He came toward me, sitting on my bed beside me. "Please don't cry."

"I'm sorry," I sniffed, wiping my tears away with the back of my hand. "I just wish you didn't have to go. I wish I can be the one out there, the one to get the bad guy, save the country or whatever."

He smiled, and turned my chin up to look at him. "I know, but you're a girl, and girls can't go to war. But you can help by staying here and looking after things."

"Okay..." I sighed.

"Alright," He said, leaning to give me a hug. "I have to go pack now; you can go help Auntie with dinner."

He left my room, giving me one last smile, shutting the door closed. I sighed, falling back onto my pillow. If only I could do something to help Adam out of this mess, I thought to myself.