My dad took a bullet in his left wrist during the battle of the bulge. It left him with a permanently deformed left hand, but he was grateful they did not need to amputate it and leave him with a hook (a very real possibility). He didn’t talk about it for years and many of my high school friends met him without noticing.
The dad I wrote about who was on Okinawa was driving to a bar one day and passed someone his age walking with a limp. A war injury. He picked him up, took him to the bar, drank away the afternoon and brought him home, where he became a member of the family. They'd take him up to the family farm and make him work the tractor. A really hard job with the injured leg, but eventually he walked pretty close to normal. Nobody ever talked about what happened.
A beautiful tribute to our fathers, both on the battlefield and the greens, an elucidation of what was buried beneath their often congenial surfaces.
What I would give to know what was there. And what they would have given to forget.
Really an extraordinary piece of writing, even for you. So many deep, unacknowledged wounds, in people and in nations.
Thanks. It's a personal favorite.
My dad took a bullet in his left wrist during the battle of the bulge. It left him with a permanently deformed left hand, but he was grateful they did not need to amputate it and leave him with a hook (a very real possibility). He didn’t talk about it for years and many of my high school friends met him without noticing.
The things he saw, unimaginable.
The dad I wrote about who was on Okinawa was driving to a bar one day and passed someone his age walking with a limp. A war injury. He picked him up, took him to the bar, drank away the afternoon and brought him home, where he became a member of the family. They'd take him up to the family farm and make him work the tractor. A really hard job with the injured leg, but eventually he walked pretty close to normal. Nobody ever talked about what happened.
Great piece, Mr. Hardy. I would expect nothing less.
Childhood is magical.