My father was a general. Or a colonel or something. He rose through the ranks so fast I couldnapos;t keep up. When I was a boy, I used to watch him leave the house, his medals shining, his uniform crisp...The last day I saw him was when it was my turn to go off to war, shipped to the Pacific to fight the Japanese. We stood on the train platform together. "Every brave man should fight and die for his country," he said indignantly, in sharp military tone. I shook his hand and climbed aboard the train. Through the steam from the locomotive I saw his hardened face glow and the tears streaming from his eyes. He mouthed the words please donapos;t die as I left.
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