"A baseless assumption, if I ever heard one. We've no reason to think this city was anything like Nagasaki. Or Dresden. Or Bastogne--"
And yet, her voice took on a weakened quality. Not compromised in her conviction. Not at all. She felt it bone-stiff as ever. But she spoke with a gentler sound because he'd gone and proved her point for her: a man, unconscripted, making a concious sacrifice when shoulder-to-shoulder with others. She needn't hear the rest of his musings to understand precisely what it meant: six bullets that day.
All he did (in the end) was cement himself as remarkable again by half. He was a living totem of an ideal she championed and he scorned. A man of many sacrifices: some of which she might have already been on the receiving end. But Peggy didn't know how to communicate her hazy gratitude with words he wouldn't spit back at her, so instead she stretched her fingers out until she could lay them across his palm while they walked together. It wasn't a necessary touch; the passcode was well-charged. It was one she gave freely. Wilfully.
"D-Day. Which beach?"
She'd read the reports, after all. Gold and Juno and Sword for the Empire. Utah and Omaha for the Americans. She remembered them down to their generals -- as names on paper, and not bullets in guns.
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munebox2015-05-16 10:12 pm
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And yet, her voice took on a weakened quality. Not compromised in her conviction. Not at all. She felt it bone-stiff as ever. But she spoke with a gentler sound because he'd gone and proved her point for her: a man, unconscripted, making a concious sacrifice when shoulder-to-shoulder with others. She needn't hear the rest of his musings to understand precisely what it meant: six bullets that day.
All he did (in the end) was cement himself as remarkable again by half. He was a living totem of an ideal she championed and he scorned. A man of many sacrifices: some of which she might have already been on the receiving end. But Peggy didn't know how to communicate her hazy gratitude with words he wouldn't spit back at her, so instead she stretched her fingers out until she could lay them across his palm while they walked together. It wasn't a necessary touch; the passcode was well-charged. It was one she gave freely. Wilfully.
"D-Day. Which beach?"
She'd read the reports, after all. Gold and Juno and Sword for the Empire. Utah and Omaha for the Americans. She remembered them down to their generals -- as names on paper, and not bullets in guns.