Content posted by John W. Davis

I dream... the bus arrives at my stop every night, emerging through rain and fog.
Each time I enter, they are all there. Every one. Always.
They sit quietly on either side of the aisle as I pass.
Their eyes look only at me, each in its own way.


Major: “Regrettable, Herr Altmann, regrettable. I’m afraid they just don’t understand.”

Altmann: “No, they don’t. How could they. They were never soldiers like we were.”

Major: “Certain accommodations always had to be made.”


Scene: A Testifier seated at a large wooden table before a microphone. He gives testimony to a formal hearing.

Testifier: Yes Senator, that is correct. The United States Army Intelligence helped certain Nazi officers at the end of the war.


Few know how to deal with another's sorrow. On a long ago Autumn day, not unlike any other brisk day in late 1983, I received a call. My caller said a close mutual friend, Kevin, was believed killed in a shocking bombing in southern Beirut, Lebanon. Kevin was a Marine slain by a suicide bomber who drove a non-descript truck laden with the equivalent of six tons of explosives. Upon detonation, the Marines' quarters collapsed in a cloud of acrid smoke, fire, and mammoth blocks of rubble. 241 Marines died that day and many, many more were critically wounded, sent to hospitals across the region.