Lily lay back in the soft,

green grass of the pasture.

White daisies, golden brown-eyed Susans,

prickly blue viper's bugloss, and frilly

Queen Anne's lace surrounded her.

She beckoned to him from

what seemed like miles away.

He hiked through the grass

calling her name. She began to

stroll away from him

into the distance. He had

to reach her! He loved her so!

If they couldn't marry, he would

make her his mistress! Nothing could

extinguish the flame of his love!

He would cling to that

until his dying day.

Lying stationary was taking

its toll on Jack's circulation.

His feet and hands were numb.

Something was tickling his nose.

He managed to tilt away

from the irritant, whatever it was.

He was so thirsty! He tried

to lubricate his lips with saliva

but had none. His bladder felt

like a separate entity that

would overflow. He could stall

the urge to void no longer

and allowed the urine to

flow out of him.What did

it matter now? He was

as good as dead anyway.

The fort stood in the center

of the pasture. A moat filled

with sharks protected its walls

from any possible intruders.

Jack pedaled his bicycle as fast

as he could. The sharks

whipped back and forth so quickly

they created foam on the surface

of the water. He had to

cross the drawbridge before

it was raised, segregating him

from his regiment and his

pregnant wife, Lily. She saw him

approaching and skipped onto

the bridge to greet him.

The bridge was rising.

The sharks were in frenzy!

He rode as if the hounds

of hell were after him.

He had to reach her!

His right arm was wedged

against a rock. No matter how

hard he tried, he couldn't

wrench it free. This was

getting tiresome. He felt

a stitch in his right side.

That's all he needed now

to die from a ruptured appendix!

He had wriggled enough to

increase the size of the slot

in which he was trapped.

Were those voices he was hearing?

He wasn't deaf!

When he fought his way

to the surface of consciousness

once again, he was being carried

on a litter over the inverted

battlefield. Bodies were strewn everywhere.

The stretcherbearers stumbled over

the rough ground but maintained control

of their human cargo as they

made their way to the field hospital.

The fuse leading to the dynamite

in the stern of the oil tanker

burned so rapidly that Jack knew

the ship would explode before

he could reach the hatch

to extinguish the flame.

The olive green ship was almost

within his reach when it blew up.

He felt as if he were

on a grill. His face was

aflame. His body felt as if

the skin had been ripped

from it. He wanted to die

before the pain grew worse.

His forehead felt cool.

He opened his eyes slowly, painfully.

A white-clad nurse sponged

his face gently. As she became

aware of his gaze, she stopped

her ministrations and offered

him a sip of water.

“Take it easy,” she whispered.

“You mustn't drink too quickly.

Too much, too fast

will give you nasty cramps.”

Jack was aware of bandages

on his muscular arms and casts

on both legs. Intravenous tubing carried

a clear fluid into his veins.

Consciousness was still transient.

Dreams of a strange pasture mingled

with reality and continued to

haunt his sleep. He understood

he was on a hospital ward,

but where? And how did he get here?

The pretty young nurse was back.

“We cabled your wife.

She knows you were injured

but are on the mend.”

“How did they find me?”

Jack asked.“A patrol looking

for survivors found you buried

in the the foxhole. You were

calling ‘Lily!’They started digging

and there you were. You were

stabilized at the field hospital

before they could bring you here.

We scrubbed you up and started

to you with I.V. therapy.

You were very dehydrated and

suffering from urinary retention

and renal failure. Your kidneys

may never function normally again.

The good news is that

you survived,” she explained.

A stray strand of hair fell

across Jack's cheek hiding the tears

that crept from his eyes.

He was grateful to have

his life back. He silently saluted

his friend. Mike hadn't been so lucky.

The cable from Lily arrived

the next day. “We have a son

stop Born 05 Dec. stop Healthy

stop Named him Michael stop

I love you. Lily stop P.S. Dad

bought the pasture and

deeded it to Michael.”