Tomb of the Unforgotten Soldier
“Excuse me, sir?”
The young man who’d come from around the corner looked at me, and walked over. “Yes ma’am?”
“I’d like to go up to the Tomb, but my old legs surely won’t make it on their own. If it isn’t too much of a bother, could you help me up there?”
“Of course! It’s not a bother at all.”
I linked my arm through his. “Thank you, honey. What’s your name?”
“Brandon.”
“And you’re in the Army?”
Brandon blinked, looked down at his shirt, then smiled at me. “Oh, yes ma’am. I just returned from Kuwait a few months ago.”
“Do you mind if we sit down here and chat for a while? If you’re not in too big a hurry to get to the presentation.”
He widened his eyes. “Oh, no ma’am, I’m in no hurry. Here.” He led me to a nearby stone bench and helped me sit. “We can talk as long as you’d like.”
“You’re a true gentleman, Brandon.” I hugged my purse against my belly. “I’d like to tell you a bit about my son, if that’s okay. He served in the Army, too. In Germany.”
“I’d love to hear about him.”
I smiled. “His name is Douglas Elroy Moran. He was born June eleventh, nineteen-twenty-five. He was only about six pounds. He was so tiny. Like a precious doll.”
I stared at the hickory trees in front of me until my eyes went out of focus, and an image of Douglas as a baby appeared. “Can you guess what his first word was?” Brandon shook his head, and I tapped his arm. “Cake.”
Brandon laughed. “I guess he had quite the sweet tooth?”
“My Douglas loved sweets, and he was mischievous! By the time he was three, he knew exactly how to sneak up onto the kitchen counter to get to the cakes and cookies.”
My hands shook, and I clasped them together despite the arthritic pain in my joints. “But he was such a good boy. I’d try to scold him for sneaking a cookie, but then he’d pull one out of his pocket for me, and I certainly couldn’t fuss him after that.”
Brandon and I laughed together, and he said, “I was similar as a kid. When my mom would catch me doing something I wasn’t supposed to, I’d tell her how much I loved her and give her a big hug.”
I patted Brandon’s knee. “All little boys are mischievous for a time, I believe. Just like they’re adventurous. My Douglas was no exception. Almost every day, he’d say, ‘I’m going out to explore, Mama,’ and he’d run around our backyard, looking for bugs, or unique pieces of grass. Douglas could look at the same scene fifty times, and find fifty new things to do.
“But Douglas’s favorite thing was inventing. He was very smart, very creative, and he seemed to come up with a new invention every week.”
I straightened the hem of my skirt, looking at my bent, swollen fingers. “They didn’t always work out, of course, and he’d often end up with little injuries when things went wrong. I was a worrywart, and he knew that, so every time he hurt himself, he’d come up next to me and just hold my hand for a while. To prove he was okay, maybe, or because he knew how much I loved holding onto him.”
Brandon smiled a gentle smile. “Sounds like you two had a wonderful relationship.”
“We did. He was such a sweet, thoughtful child.” I looked back at those hickory trees and saw Douglas in front of me again, going from that tiny baby, to a boy, to a man. “And then, one day, just like that, Douglas was all grown up. He became less reckless and more serious. He never stopped inventing, and he never stopped being curious, but it all happened too fast.
“He never stopped being compassionate, either. He had such a big heart, and such a desire to do well by others. That was why he joined the service, you see. He wanted to see the worst of the world and come up with ways to make it better.”
“Oh, wow.” Brandon sat up straighter. “That’s incredible, for him to have had such a noble reason to enlist. You must’ve been so proud.”
“I was the proudest Mama there was, and Douglas knew it. But when I kissed him goodbye, I told him that when he came home, he’d have to let me hold him for hours, so I could make sure he was okay. And he kissed my cheek and said, ‘Mama, I’ll let you hold my hand as long as you need to.’”
I turned my upper body to face Brandon. “But my boy never came home. Not alive, not in a casket. I was told the battle he was last seen in was a fiery one, and that chances are, there wasn’t much left of him to find. That was forty-seven years ago, and I still don’t know what happened to my Douglas.”
Brandon widened his eyes and dropped his shoulders. “Oh, ma’am, I’m so sorry to hear that.”
I pointed a shaky hand to where the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier was. “There’s a chance a part of him is in that tomb up there. But I’m ninety-two years old, and I know I don’t have much longer, so I won’t ever know what happened to Douglas. He was my only child, and everyone else who ever knew him is gone now. But he was a good boy. A beautiful soul. To be honest with you, love, I’m quite ready to die, but I can’t bear to leave as the only person who knows about Douglas. I can’t bear for him to be left unknown.”
I put my hand over Brandon’s. “If it’s not too much to ask, I’d like for you to remember Douglas. Just, think about him every once in a while. Remember him when you hold hands with your own children, or when they try to sneak a treat from the kitchen. I don’t suppose I can expect him to be remembered forever, but I believe he deserves to be remembered just a little bit longer.”
I reached into my purse and pulled out a photograph of Douglas as a young child, with chocolate smeared all over his mouth and hands, and held it out to Brandon. “This is my Douglas.” The harder I stared at Douglas’s face, the more my hand trembled. “Forty-seven years without seeing my son’s smile is too long.”
Brandon took the photograph from me and stared at it, too, his eyes glistening. “Ma’am,” he said slowly, “I’m honored you chose me to remember Douglas. I’ll be happy to tell my future children all about him. Your son won’t be forgotten. I can promise you that.”
“Thank you, honey.” I hooked my arm through Brandon’s. “Can we go to the Tomb now? I think I’m finally ready to tell my son goodbye.”
