The Hero and the Conchie
“They weren’t enemies, Lenny. Just boys, like you and me. Scared. Homesick.”
“I’m just glad you made it back safe and sound.”
“Safe, maybe. Sound, no. Can’t sleep. Can barely function.”
The two friends toss pebbles into the pond, remembering.
“Dad used to line up tin cans for rifle practice, teaching me to ‘be a man’. Now he’s so proud.”
“My father’s humiliated, ashamed.”
“I wish I’d had your courage, refused to go. I’d gladly trade this for a white feather.” Mike opens his clenched fist, throws something into the black water.
The shiny medal sinks like a dead weight.
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleHi Julie, well done. What a great story.
Thanks for reading, Lisa, and taking the time to comment.
So Mike thinks that his friend the conchie was the hero in refusing to go to war.
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To Leave Comments - Please SignIn with GoogleI don’t think that Mike thinks Lenny is the hero, he just doesn’t know how he’s going to live with himself for the rest of his life, with the memories he now carries. I have friends who were drafted at 18, and now that they are over 70 they still have nightmares. War is a terrible, terrible thing. Thank heavens most of us have never had to make that choice.
Julie, this story represents different feelings towards a controversial subject -“war.” I respect other people’s ‘views’ in life. Well written!
Short but it draws me to feel a different feeling. Well done, Julie.
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