9 July 2012
Today was Veteran’s Day. I was on my way to the West City Shopping Centre. Apparently, there was some sort of festival there centred on the war veterans of World War II. There was supposed to be lots of war memorabilia and even a few Veterans’ from the war there, and considering I was a World War II fanatic, there was no chance of me missing out on this opportunity.
Parking outside the centre, I couldn’t help but notice all the banners announcing what day it was and the stream of people heading inside. Obviously I wasn’t the only one excited, so I quickly picked up my pamphlet and headed in.
The entrance hall was huge and laid out with stalls with people trying to sell their WWII merchandise. Although the hall was packed, I couldn’t help but notice a small crowd gathered around one of the tables, which indicated to me that it was a popular choice and so I decided to check this one out. At first, I couldn’t see anything due to there being so many people in the way, but I slowly squeezed my way through until I finally had a decent view of the stall.
Behind it, was a small, balding old man in a baggy uniform which no longer seemed to fit him. He was speaking to the crowd with enthusiasm about, from what I could hear, a book that he had wrote himself. Almost everyone standing there bought a copy and moved on until I was the last one remaining. I was busy reading the title which said, “True Life of War”, when I noticed the old man staring at me expectantly.
“Are you interested in buying my book, son?” He asked kindly.
“Oh! Yes, I am. I’m a huge fan of World War history actually. Did you write this yourself?” I replied.
“Yes, of course. I spent three years writing it. It’s an account of all my time spent in the war, one hundred per cent truth, nothing left out,” he paused and then said, “Well, except the gory bits.”
“Really? Sounds very interesting. Did you see a lot of action then?”
“Quite a bit, yeah. I was part of the assault on the beaches of Normandy. It was hell out there, I lost a lot of friends,” he replied, saying the last part quieter than the rest.
Looking at him there, I could see the sadness in his eyes. It was obvious what he was saying was the truth. I couldn’t believe I was talking to an actual war veteran, I was excited and yet, I also felt sorry for the man. To live after what he’d been through must’ve been hard. I could feel respect for him swelling up inside.
“What made you decide to write a novel anyway?” I asked after a few seconds of silence. “I just wanted to get my side of the story out there. There are a lot of popular war novels, but a lot of them cover up a few of the details. It’s also nice to see people walking away with my book, knowing they’re going to find out what it was like and what I’d been through.”
“Well then, looks like I’m going to be one of those people,” I announced with a huge grin on my face, “So, how much is the book then?”
He looked up at me quickly and with a gleam in his eyes, smiled back, “Don’t worry, this one is free. Thank you for the conversation, it’s always nice to talk about it at times.”
I looked at him with admiration and gratitude and said, “Well, thank you very much. I can’t wait to read it. It’s always been my dream to finally speak to a veteran of the war and now it’s happened. Again, thank you.”
With lightning speed, shocking for a man of his age, he straightened up, snapped his legs together and gave me a salute. I saluted back and began to walk away, but then I had an idea. “Sorry, but I was wondering, may I have your autograph?” He smiled and replied, “Of course, anything for a friend.” Then, with one final salute, we parted ways.
The Veteran • Opuss № I