The Storm

FEMA.” Henry got quiet and looked puzzled and then asked, “AMajor Dick Peterson?” I responded with “Yes Sir.” “An older man?” “Yes Sir,” I responded. “Well I’ll be dogged. Major Dick Peterson. The guy that sent us on the mission at the first base that we landed, and now just south of me. Unbelievable!” Henry blurted out, almost yelling. I ought to go down and take him out myself." “Relax, Henry. That was a long time ago. Just let it go. Why draw attention to yourself." “I guess you’re right, Zach. We can’t tell Gunny, 'cause he would do it. Another secret you have to keep to yourself, Son.” “Yes Sir, I will keep it to myself, just like the other stuff, Henry.” “Much appreciated, Son." "This whole trip has been exhausting and re-livin' some of this stuff has been tough. Please keep it close to you, as Gunny said.” “I will, Henry. We haven't known each other very long, I know, but I give you my word as a friend.” “That’s good enough, Zach,” Henry responded. “Let’s eat and get some shut eye. It's going to be a long day for you tomorrow." The next morning the sun shone through the curtains giving rise to a beautiful day and great traveling weather. “Coffee's on, Zach, and the biscuits and gravy almost done!” Henry hollered out. The smell of the fresh biscuits filled the room with a wonderful aroma. “I’m 'a comin'," I responded. It struck me funny, that I was starting to talk Southern. Henry and I sat and discussed our travels and conversations. Not much more was said about Major Peterson, but I was going to have to check in with him upon arrival in New Orleans, which will now take on a whole new meaning.

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