It was a few months after the war in Germany as some raggedy kids cruised the streets looking for coal, wood, and a little entertainment. They strolled up to the Alabama Kaserne to get a look at the black American soldiers. Not one of them had ever seen a Negro before, and the specter of a real black boogie man ran chills up their spines. Ten year old Marianne (today, my wife) showed her bravado by skipping within a few yards of the black soldier on guard. Circling ever closer, the pack of kids popped their eyes and primed their bodies for flight if it seemed necessary. Suddenly, the guard crouched in a Karate pose, screaming a chopped cry, Gaaaaaarhhh!!!". They took off like scalded chickens, diving for cover. The guard laughed and returned to his post. The German kids were no different than the ones at home, if he ever could get there.

A little ways down the street, the Americans had set up a temporary hospital and mess hall in a deserted bowling alley. When the windows opened at supper time, the Americans were known to share their food with needy Germans. Fearful of being imprisoned in one of the enemy's interrogation rooms, Marianne nevertheless couldn't resist the possibility of a hand out of their delicious chocolate pudding. Suspecting that she would only have one chance to have her tin cup filled, she waited until the line neared the end. Leaning against the building were two American soldiers with Red Cross arm bands. They whispered to each other, staring at Marianne's bandaged foot. A few days ago, Marianne had stubbed her pinkie toe, opening the skin to the bone. Not having any medication, she washed out the cut and finding a large roll of gauze stripping, wound it around her toe until it resembled a large snowball.

Eyeing the soldiers, Marianne tried to look disinterested. One of the soldiers worked his way around her back while the other distracted her from the front. Suddenly, she found herself lifted bodily off the ground. Struggling, Marianne screamed for them to let go as they carried her horizontally into the hospital. Sitting her on a desktop, they slowly unwound her makeshift bandage, roaring with laughter as the end stretched across the room. The infected pinkie toe was cleaned, disinfected and given a new, but much smaller, band-aid. The soldiers of mercy pantomimed that she return in two days for a toe inspection. Marianne agreed, leaving the hospital with a full tin of chocolate pudding and a slightly different view of the 'Enemy".

Love to write. Comments anyone?