Memoir Of A Hero
We were in the best shape of our lives back then. Dick and I thought we knew it all; ready to conquer anything or anybody in our way. We were stationed together when the war broke. The war--it made us feel weak and alone. All we had was a shared responsibility to serve our country and the companionship of one another. Dick was my best friend. I razzed him because he was a slow, bowlegged, son of a German immigrant. If I wasn't so much like my father, Dick would have known how much I loved him. Maybe things would have been different between us.
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