00:30Jane Barclay, illustrated by René Benoit.
00:36My papa was a soldier. When he was 17 years old,
00:41he lied about his age so he could join the army and fight for our country in the war.
00:46I'm on his bed studying a picture of him in his uniform.
00:50His hair is too short and his pants are too long.
00:53Papa, I ask him, why did you lie about your age?
01:02Well, he says, so many other boys were joining and I didn't want to be left behind.
01:09I couldn't wait to put on that uniform. As soon as I did, I felt as proud as a peacock.
01:15Proud as a peacock, I ask? Proud as that, he answers.
01:24He struts across the floor with his chest puffed out and his belly pulled in.
01:29He stops in front of the mirror and combs his hair and pats some shaving lotion on his cheeks.
01:35He smiles at his reflection. But beneath my papa's smile,
01:39I see the serious young man in the photograph.
01:46My papa crossed the ocean. The war was far away and he went on a long journey to get there.
01:54He said goodbye to his mom and dad and his sweetheart Betty.
01:58He promised to write them letters every week. Papa, I ask him, weren't you lonely?
02:05Sometimes I was, he says, but so was everybody else.
02:10Besides, my best friend Stuart was with me.
02:13There was always something to see or do on the ship. Most of the time, we were busy as beavers.
02:22Busy as beavers, I ask? Busy as that, he answers.
02:28He whistles through his teeth as he irons his collar.
02:32He tucks in his shirt tails and rubs a polishing cloth across his shoes until they shine like new.
02:38He reaches in the drawer for a pair of socks and I glimpse a bundle of letters tied with faded
02:44ribbon. He smiles as he touches it with his fingers. But beneath my papa's smile,
02:50I know he's missing Grandma Betty.
02:55My papa was a hero. There were guns and fire and smoke. He crawled on his belly through the
03:02noise in the mud and pulled three men to safety. The army gave him a special medal that he keeps
03:09in a leather case. Papa, I ask him, weren't you scared? When I was a lad, he says, I thought I
03:18wasn't afraid of anything. Then when something frightening did happen, I pretended to be as
03:24brave as a lion. Brave as a lion, I ask?
03:31Brave as that, he answers. I help him fasten his medal above the pocket of his blazer.
03:37Sometimes my papa's hands shake, so he needs to borrow mine.
03:42He smiles as he gives me a poppy to pin on my jacket. He looks very proud.
03:48But beneath my papa's smile, I hear the bad dream that woke him in the night.
03:53My papa marches in the parade. The crowd cheers and claps as the veterans go by.
04:03Some are young, some are old. Some sit in wheelchairs, and some walk past holding on to
04:10others. I stand at attention. The music stops, and there is a minute of silence. A cold wind
04:18sends dry leaves skittering past my feet. I am as quiet as a mouse. As quiet as that.
04:28My papa lays a wreath. He carefully places it at the base of the monument. Attached is a card
04:35that reads, In loving memory of Stuart David Adams, 1923 to 1944. My papa salutes. Then he
04:45steps back and dabs his eyes with his handkerchief. He puts his hand over his heart. I do the same,
04:52and I can almost touch the ache. Papa, I whisper. Why are you crying?
05:00I am remembering, he says. A war is something you never forget.
05:07Elephants never forget, I tell him. Then let's be elephants, he says.
05:14A soft rain falls as a bugler trumpets his notes up into the cold gray sky.
05:20We link our hands and bow our heads.
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