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Why We Should Never Give Up Our Dreams
by LaVonne Boruk
It was barely ten A. M. on a Tuesday morning when the telephone on my desk
jangled its impatience. He was in the kitchen putting away the groceries he
had just brought home. I let the phone ring, hoping he would pick it up in
the kitchen, but he didn't. Just before the answering machine would have
got it, I picked up the receiver and said hello into it, sort of in a why
are you bothering me attitude.
Right away a man's voice came on the line, saying something I didn't
understand. I asked him to repeat it. Instead he asked, "Who are you?"
Not being one to give out personal information, I almost slammed the
receiver down, but for some reason I didn't. Instead I asked, as nicely as
my poor attitude would allow, "Who do you want to talk to?"
His strong voice came on the line immediately, respectfully, "Is Jim home?"
I said, "Yes, he is." Then I handed the phone to Jim, who took it from me
reluctantly.
Having heard my end of the conversation I'm sure he felt this was someone he
wasn't interested in talking to. But he said, "Hello!" into the phone.
Then his face lit up, and his voice took on the sound of surprise. "Buck?"
There was a short silence, then, "My old foxhole buddy, Buck?"
Another short silence, then, "This is a big surprise. I'm so glad you
called."
It was Walt Disney who said it best, "All our dreams can come true, if we
have the courage to pursue them."
This had been a long time dream of my husband, to find his old foxhole
buddies, the two men, besides himself, that he depended on most in 1950-51
to get them out of Korea alive. And now one of them was on the other end of
the telephone line, telling Jim about himself and the other man.
The three of them got home alive, barely. One had lost an eye, the other
sustained some injuries, both spent time in the hospital, but came home in
fairly good shape. Jim had been wounded also, and somehow was reported
killed in action. His mother received notice of his death, but that was
changed at some later time to missing in action. Still later, somebody must
have found him in the hospital in Japan, because he was reported wounded in
action.
They talked for an hour or more, exchanging information about each of the
families, and finally Jim said, "I had given up hope of ever hearing from
you. It's been over a year since I sent my letter to you. Did you get it?"
After they hung up Jim told me that Buck had received his letter almost
immediately, more than a year ago, but it brought back some memories that he
had to work out before he got the nerve to call. In fact, he said he had
misplaced the letter and had forgotten about it until he found it by
accident and decided to call.
We had found a site on the Internet that listed veterans as killed in
action, wounded in action, and gave their last known place of residence.
Jim found his own name still listed as killed in action. And he found the
names of these two men listed. There was also the notation, "find your old
army buddies," or something to that effect. So Jim queried the Veterans
Administration about how to contact them. The V.A. told him they would not
give out any personal information, but they would forward a letter to them
if Jim wrote one and sent it to the V.A. along with a properly stamped
envelope.
We know that things move slowly with the V.A. So we waited and waited. A
year went by and Jim heard nothing. He threw away all the information that
he had kept from the Internet site, and tried to forget about his pals of
long ago. But every now and then, their memory would surface and he would
tell me some little story of how it was back then, sleeping in a foxhole,
keeping one eye open, freezing, frostbitten toes, eating frozen C-rations at
midnight from a can, not daring to build a fire to warm them, so they were
as cold on the inside as on the outside.
Buck and Jim ended up at Ft. Benning, Georgia, training other soldiers to
use the bayonet that was attached to the end of their rifles. Then each got
married and moved their separate ways losing contact with each other. Buck
left the army and moved to Wisconsin, the other guy left also and went to
Idaho. Jim stayed in to retire in 1970, after being transferred to many
different places at home and abroad, until we settled here in South
Carolina.
For two days now, that is all that Jim has been able to talk about. He got
out some maps and began planning a trip to Wisconsin. Finding these two men
and learning they are still alive and well was a very pleasant surprise to
him, which proves that Walt Disney was right, and we should never give up on
our dreams.
©2001 LaVonne Boruk
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