Slim Randles'  Home Country

WWII storyteller does a comeback

[May 09, 2009]  Bernie came into the Mule Barn between our second and third refills that morning. There were two groans and one sigh -- I counted -- and we all immediately stared at the coffee in our cups. You know. Like maybe the coming tsunami will spare this oaken island.

Nope.

He dragged out a spare chair and flopped down in it.

"Hey, guys!" Bernie said. "Ever seen wind like this?"

Someone shook his head.

"I have," Bernie said. "Yes. Algeria, it was. Nineteen and forty-three. Me and the old man ... Patton, you know ... Well, there we were in this tent and the sand was blowing like a million machine guns..."

And so it went for at least half of World War II and another cup of coffee. We went through his being wounded on D-Day, the wonderful women of Sicily and finally having to whip Nazis with his fists because he ran out of ammunition.

Herb Ellis told us once that a friend of his knew Bernie during the war and that Bernie had ridden a desk all the way to Berlin, but why bring that up now?

Dud was doing a slow burn. Some of our members had seen combat, and Dud most of all. When Bernie got to the part where he single-handedly righted an overturned Jeep to save the lives of two nurses, Dud had had enough.

"That's amazing strength," Dud said. "I noticed you had your grandkids carrying in armloads of firewood the other day, Bernie. Seems strange that they'd do the work when you're so strong."

Bernie looked slightly annoyed, but just for a second.

"That's simple," he told us. "You see, I never was as strong as I used to be."

[Text from file received from Slim Randles]

Brought to you by "Sun Dog Days," a novel by Slim Randles. Check it out at www.unmpress.com.