Previous Challenge Entry (Level 3 - Advanced)
Topic: RESTORATION (12/03/20)
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TITLE: The Watch | Previous Challenge Entry
By Arlene Baker
12/10/20 -
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“I can and I will.” His mirthless leer set her back a step.
“It belonged to my late father. Please …”
“Iffen he’s late, he ain’t gonna need it.” The boy soldier threw back his head with a howl. He stopped mid-laugh and pushed his face close to the hers. “I hope it war my bullet what made ’im late.”
Melody fled out the back door. Everywhere, blue coats ebbed and flowed through the small Georgia farm, killing and pillaging. General Sherman’s scorched earth policy triumphed that late fall day.
In 1917, she wandered around the same small farmyard, once again reliving the terror of it all.
Curse him. Curse them all. Her veined hands balled at her sides as she recalled the arrogant young soldier who’d stolen her father’s watch. Her mouth twisted down as she remembered his taunts.
Iffen he’s late, he ain’t needin’ it.
Renewed hate boiled up.
I will never forget. Never..
“Good day, Mrs. Hall.” The postman drove into the yard. “Gotcha a package from your youngun, fighting over there…” He flung an arm east.
“A package from John? In England?” She gasped as she hurried to his truck. Her soldier grandson had sailed off to war nine months before.
“Yes, ma’am.” Mr. Conner thrust it through the window with a laugh. “Hope it’s all good news. Good day, Mrs. Hall.”
Melody sat on the porch and tore open the cardboard box. Her breath caught as a gold watch dropped into her lap. She turned it over and over in her hand.
How? How? She gasped as she cradled her father’s watch. A few minutes later, she reached for John’s letter.
Dear Mimi, John had written with a blunt pencil tip. I am so happy to be the one to return this watch to you. Let me explain how it came to be. After our arrival to England, we were assigned to a unit with many boys from the north. We all had a jolly laugh at our different ‘accents’.
We joked a lot as we trained for trench warfare, mostly to hide the fear none of us would confess out loud. Stories trickled in and we saw lots of mustard gas casualties or boys with missing limbs. We tried to act brave when we marched out for our first stint in the trenches. Mimi, we stayed there, day and night, for weeks. Often they filled with rainwater. They stunk of dampness and death. It was awful.
Somehow we all knew we’d never get out alive. I had met a fellow from Ohio named Peter. We traded family stories and talked of home. One day, Peter showed me a pocket watch that his grandfather had given him. He’d fought in the 30th Ohio in the War Between the States and was part of Sherman’s March to the Sea.
When Peter was a teenager, his grandfather gave him this watch and told him how he’d got it. He explained that he had stolen the watch from a Georgia girl about Peter’s age and laughed in her face over her tears. Peter said his grandfather cried then. He gave every detail he could and made Peter promise to do his best to get that watch back the rightful owner.
The last time we prepared to “go over the top”, Peter handed me the watch. “I’m not going to make it,” he said. “Promise me you will find the girl and give it back.”
He was killed the next day and a Kraut bullet shattered my leg, but I’m thankful to be alive. Mimi, I mailed the package as soon as I could. I knew you were the girl Peter’s grandfather spoke of. I’m convinced that God had Peter and me meet on a battlefield in France so you could get your daddy’s watch back.
I pray this helps to take the bitterness and hate from your heart. Please take a moment to realize how God used this miracle to show you that he really does love you. God wants to heal your heart and have you experience joy, true joy, for the first time in your life.
I love you, Mimi.
John Hall
Edmonton, England
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True or not, its good reading.
Well done.~~~~~