May 18th, 1941

Dear, Ma, Pa, John and Patty,

Thank y'all dearly for your letter. Today was our first mail, and the buzz about the island was joyous as anything. After mail call, everyone was quiet til a shout came from Marcus that his wife was expecting. And we only been here a few weeks! James got a box of coffee and cookies, but the cookies were near powder by the time they made it to us. Babe used the powder to act out a scene where he shot a Nazi from the sky and I laughed so hard I near spit out my coffee. The rest of us shared the powdered drink and cookie bits while telling stories about back home.

James talked 'bout how his wife and son, Billy, would go out together to hunt back in Georgia and how Billy would always be proud of his daddy for adding the Nazi plaque to their wall back home.

Babe is from here right on Crete, so his English ain't all that good, but he makes up for it with his storytelling. That boy need only a piece o' paper and a flashlight to make us all laugh, I tell you. Him gots to be 'round 19, but it's hard to tell when they at that age.

All's well here for the time. I hope y'all are doing well. Ma, Pa, you know I love ya. And John, you look after your mother and grandparents, ya hear? And Patty… Patty, my darling, you be safe and take care.

I'll write again when I can, but I don't know when that will be.

May 20th, 1941

They landed. James is dead. They said they gonna write his wife.

May 20th, 1941

It's dark now. I am sleepin' next to Babe in our bunks. He is shaking God knows a'plenty. I'm looking after him, though.

On my other side is my girl Barbara. With her in my hands, I killed 'em Nazis as they rained from the sky. They was mighty high, too. Like dandelion fuzz holdin' rifles. We'd shoot 'em from the sky, me and Barb, and Babe and James, and the rest. James didn't make it, though. I watched one of them Nazi's land up ahead of him on the field and shoot him right in the face. Brains and all everywhere. Babe was all squeamish-like. I hads to hold him for a bit before he fell asleep. The others didn't even mind it; back home that kinda thing woulda never happened.

I'll be sleepin' now. Thank Jesus for Barbara. And for Babe. And in Jesus name, we lay James to rest.

May 20th, 1941

Marcus said they's contacted the Allies and we got the day. He came and woke me up to tell me. It's my turn to watch the skies. I hope I can see thems in the dark.

May 21st, 1941

Day two of the attack. Barb is treatin' me good as ever. I took Babe out with me again, the boy is good to have around. Has a sharp nose and black hair like burnt hay in that drought back home. He helps me carry the load and listens while I talk to him, though I doesn't know he's understandin'. I like to think he does; and that he likes me, too. I mighty like Babe. Maybe I'll learn that there Greek of his and talk to him one day.

May 21st, 1941

To Ma, Patty and John,

Today, Marcus died. I didn't know him all that well, but when you share food with a man you know it'd be hard to let that go.

Babe was downright downtrodden when he heard. Thank Jesus he didn't see this one. I know that poor boy covers up how he really feels.

Today, durin' lunch, I let him hold Barbara and look her over. His pretty little fingers slid over her like he been touchin' some glass rather than no gun. You'd be surprised he done killed as many Nazis as he had.

Patty, I hopin' you well, darling. And I hopin' all this Babe and Barbara talk ain't getting you all jealous.

Johnnie, you better be writin' soon; ya hear? Your ma can't be doing it all on her own. And be strong at grandad's funeral, ya hear? I wish I could be there, but I need you to be my angel.

May God bless Grandad and may God bless Marcus. And may God bless Babe.

Amen.

May 24th, 1941

To Ma, Patty and John,

I'm coming home. I got hit in the leg. Babe carried me out of there. He saved my life and ran back in. Grabbed my Barbara and ran on in there. I'm on the plane now. I hopin' him safe.

"What you just listened to was a piece of the story of a man, a man, who after serving on Crete and defending his country and the Allied powers returned home to a much-changed world. He returned to a world without his father, without his mobility, and without his will to live. I stand here before you today, ready to tell you the rest of the story," I take a breath and look over the audience, they stare up at me like sheep waiting for the end.

"This man was my Georgakis. He saved me in more ways than he let on while we fought together. He calls me boy and writes me a comic. Those who knew him know that he was the real boy."

The crowd laughs.

I don't.

"Georgakis pulled me from the rubble of many attacks but never wrote it down. I know not why he fought so hard and didn't write down what he truly did. Or perhaps I do. This is why I have brought this. Patty?"

Patty joins me at the stand. A woman of great class despite her age. Her hair is done up in a black veil, perhaps to shield her from God. She comes holding a small white blanket wrapped around a more solid object.

"It is with great honor that I have been given the right to send Georgakis on in this way, and I thank Patty and our regiment for having me here."

I place one hand on the coffin, a large black box that is glossed over as if covered in the tears now coming from my eyes.

I pull Barbara from the blanket and hold her one last time as the regiment lays the flag over my Georgakis and I fire into the air, with the gun he loved so dearly being the last one he hears.

"Goodbye, my love."