The Homecoming

By Dr. T.D. Fisher
UT1 T. D. Fisher USN (RET)

Helen looked at the crowd. She knew he was there, he just had to be. There had been no letters for over two months. His unit had been in four more fierce battles since then. But if he had been hurt the Army would have let her know...wouldn't they? Didn't they have to? Wasn't there a rule or something that said that if he was hurt they had to tell her? She just didn't know.

Helen was standing at the dock looking at the transport ship as it released its human cargo, now home from the worst war in the history of the world. Her husband Carl was a member of the 101st Airborne. Known for being some of the most aggressive fighters in the Army, the 101st were always given the most hazardous missions. Because of this their casualty rate was usually extremely high. Looking, she still couldn't see him.

Carl was a 1st Lieutenant and believed he couldn't ask his men to do anything he wasn't willing to do himself. Therefore he was always at the front of any fighting that was going on. Helen knew this and coupled with the fact that there had been no mail for about six weeks, she worried.

Helen and Carl had been married for only eight days when he was shipped out. The last twenty-four months of World War II had been an eternity and now she didn't know if he was coming home to her or not. She looked at the soldiers walking off the ramp knowing the more men that came off; the less chance there was for Carl to be one of them.
Suddenly, he was there, standing in front of her. She looked up into those deep blue eyes and saw the love that had been their bond through all those long months, which had turned into years. He was smiling, oh God, he was smiling, and he was alive. He was home. Helen rushed forward into the warm loving arms that were to hold her and cherish her for forty years to follow.

Yes, that was forty years ago. And now, she looked down at the man who had been by her side through the birth of two boys and two girls. Had been with her through the loss of her parents – through the loss of their third child when he had died in that damn Viet Nam war. But Carl was always there. He was her strength and her support – always showing the love that had, for so long been their bond. Now he was dying. And there was nothing she could do about it.

Helen quietly sat beside Carl's bed and gently took his hand into her own. His breathing was labored now and he was in pain. Slowly his eyes opened. She looked into those gentle blue eyes and once again saw the love and caring of a forty-year bond. She looked deep into the eyes of the man who for so long had loved and comforted her.

Helen watched as the light slowly faded. Faded from those eyes who for forty years, because of a sniper's bullet, had not seen the light of day, the birth of four children or the never-ending, boundless love of the woman now holding his hand as he silently slipped away and departed.

To read other poems by Tim Fisher, visit his website.

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