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To Sir, With Love

To Sir, With Love

141 Reads 4 Votes 1 Part Story
Karyn Mitchell By karynmitchell Completed

I met him on the first day I arrived at training camp, me a young man of nineteen years and still naive to the ways of the world. Back then, you signed up for the service because it was your civic duty. The War was on in Europe and Uncle Sam called for brave men to fight the noble cause against the Nazis. I felt that swell of national pride sincere enough to sign my name on the papers. I never thought, though, that my greatest challenge wouldn't be holding a gun these hands.

Well, most times, anyway. We shot our rifles as many hours as it took to become proficient and listened to our instructors as, day by day, we marched for miles and participated in skirmishes. I memorized every word they told me to, singing Yankee Doodle Dandy under my breath while picturing the bull's-eye I shot wore a German uniform. It wasn't until the first time he touched my shoulder that I began to think of something else. 

His hands were strong, yet gentle. They squeezed the wiry frame beneath my Army green...

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