A look at the past and world peace

Last week's prompt for the next meeting of our local Pens and Friends writer's group was to write a journal entry for sometime in the month of November, past or present. Traveling back to some true personal history, here is my effort.

November 9, 1964

My sixth grade teacher Mrs. Murray read President Johnson's proclamation to our class ahead of the Veteran's Day Assembly. He's calling on everyone to remember the veterans who defended us in war and to “rededicate” ourselves to world peace. The real day is Wednesday, but since it's a holiday we have to have the program tomorrow. I was supposed to recite a poem called, “In Flanders Fields,” but when we wrote Veteran's Day essays in class mine got picked — so now I'm reading that. In front of the whole school.

I don't know any vets — except my best friend next door, her dad fought at some place in France called Normandy. He gets mad easy. We're all kind of afraid of him. They have soldiers from the Air Force base come to dinner on Sundays. I guess they don't have anywhere else to go. Mr. Giguere always acts nice around them. 

My dad never had to go fight — even though it's only ten years since World War II. If you were a pastor they didn't make you go. He was studying to be one. I wonder if he thought he got lucky, or what. But mom's brother went—and he was a big hero at Pearl Harbor. Uncle Marvin lives in California, and we don't go down there hardly ever. They had to wait a long time before they heard if he got killed or not. I never really thought about the worry war could cause — for the people who don't go.

I guess I don't feel any burning desire to dedicate myself to world peace. Everything seems fine to me right now. There was the Cuban Missile Crisis when I was in fourth grade. My parents didn't talk about it much. But I know a girl whose dad built a bomb shelter in their backyard. I've been down in it. And the air raid siren goes off at noon on Wednesdays. It's on the corner at Loma Vista shopping center.

I really messed up at Loma Vista drugstore. I got mom a Christmas present last year from there. I thought she would like it. It was a little painted statue of Mary in a blue robe. I guess that's Catholic — and we are Presbyterian. I had to take it back. If people can't even agree about a pretty statue no wonder there are wars in the world. 

I hope I never have to be in one. Girls don't go anyway. I don't like seeing anything dead. My grandma died last year. And we had to go past the casket. I didn't really know her. I only saw her about once lying in bed in the hospital. She only had one leg. I'll never forget that. It looked funny. Not laughing funny — I would never make fun of that. But it wasn't normal. I wonder if that's what happens in war. People get their arm or leg shot off. No way am I going.

It's just not a good thing. People killing and attacking each other. I think soldiers must be scared to death every day. I don't know how they keep from running away. Good thing they didn't do it back when we were trying to get this country. I like living here. 

Oh, I can't forget this. Sheri McCullough's having a slumber party this weekend. I'm really excited to go. I'm bringing my Beatles record. I like George the best. I'm sure glad there's no war going on now. They might all have to go fight. They could get shot up, or killed. NO. I'm definitely for world peace.