It’s like they don’t remember what it’s like to be young
They’ve had a lifetime to paper over their wounds
Ours are still fresh, and bleeding
-Home now. She help. Who help you?
-My head is okay, Waylon. I don’t need help.
-If you say so.
Radyoda ise Tom Jones'tan "Tm Coming Home" çalıyordu. Coming home... Bulsak o evi, biz de döneriz bir gün belki...
Sayfa 145
Very few letters were written in those hard times that were not touching, especially those which fathers sent home. In this one little was said of the hardships endured, the dangers faced, or the homesickness conquered. It was a cheerful, hopeful letter, full of lively descriptions of camp life, marches, and military news, and only at the end did the writer's heart over-flow with fatherly love and longing for the little girls at home.
"I hate to think I've got to grow up, and be Miss March, and wear long gowns, and look as prim as a China Aster! It's bad enough to be a girl, anyway, when I like boy's games and work and manners! I can't get over my disappointment in not being a boy. And it's worse than ever now, for I'm dying to go and fight with Papa. And I can only stay home and knit, like a poky old woman!"