Grandma and Grandpa were at our house today on account of it was Annabeth's first birthday. Uncle Jake, he's my poppa's little brother, was there, too. He brought his new Brownie camera so he could take pictures for Momma to send to Poppa.

Poppa wasn't here today on account of he's somewhere across the ocean fighting with some mean guy called Hitler. I don't think Poppa's really fighting that man; I think he's really fighting with some of that man's soldiers. Grandpa calls them "Ratzis," 'cause he says they ain't nothing but a bunch of dirty rats. He's funny when he calls them that 'cause he sounds like that man in the picture show, Jimmy...Stewart. No, wait. That ain't right; I goofed. The man that says what Grandpa says is Jimmy Cagney.

Anyway, they all came over early 'cause Momma had some chores that needed to be done, and Grandpa and Uncle Jake said they would help out. While they did the chores, Momma and Grandma were going to bake a cake for Annabeth's birthday.

I was going to help Grandpa and Uncle Jake, but all they were letting me do was hold the nails and the hammer while they got to dig new holes for the fence posts. I asked if I could help, but they said I was too little. I'm seven years old, and I'm the tenth biggest kid in my class. They wouldn't even let me help paint. I got bored holding the hammer and nails, so I put them down and went to find something fun to do.

I went into the kitchen to see if Momma and Grandma needed any help, but all they wanted to do was tell me not to slam the screen door. I didn't slam it, all I did was pull it open as far as it would go, and then run in before it closed on me. I tried to explain to them that the door slammed on its own, but they said I should behave like a little gentleman.

Nuts to that.

When I asked what time it was, Grandma said it was time for all little boys to behave. She doesn't even know all of the little boys. She doesn't even know Danny and he's in my class. I tugged on Momma's apron strings and asked her what time it was. She said it was almost lunch time. When Momma says "almost," that means it will either be ready in a few minutes or a hundred hours. What it really means is that I'll get into trouble if I go out and find something fun to do and get dirty before it's time to eat. She hasn't called for Grandpa or Uncle Jake to get cleaned up, and Grandma hasn't rolled the chicken in flour, yet, so I'm not going to fall for her tricks.

Annabeth was sitting on her blanket in the floor watching me. I think she's really one of those Ratzi spies that Grandpa always complains about. Whenever I try to have fun, and she's around, Momma ends up finding out and I get in trouble. Like yesterday. I was minding my own business, just throwing rocks at the side of the house, and Annabeth was watching me out the window. Next thing I know, Momma comes running out the front door, hollering like one of those wild Indians in them John Wayne pictures. Now, I wasn't bothering nothing, so it had to be Annabeth that sneaked and told Momma what I was doing.

I knelt down beside my little sister and made a coughing sound. When Momma asked who was coughing, I pretended like it was Annabeth. I knew her and Grandma would make a fuss over the baby being sick, and when they did, I sneaked outside. I decided not to throw rocks against the house, just in case she was somewhere spying on me.

Before he left, Poppa took a long rope and tied it to a tree limb, and then he tied the other end to an old tire for me to swing in. A man came to my class one day and told us kids that if we had any rubber that we should give it to the government to help win the war. I asked Miss Marlowe if I should give them my tire swing and she said that I should ask Momma. Momma said the government already took Poppa, so they could get along without one old swing.

While I was swinging, trying to swing high enough to see over the house, it can be done because Billy Parker told me he did it in his tire swing, and he's in third grade so he could definitely go that high, I saw Grandpa and Uncle Jake put their tools down and start towards the front of the house.

Now, Grandpa likes to work, and Uncle Jake wouldn't quit either unless it was something important. I thought maybe it was time for lunch, but I didn't recall Momma or Grandma calling for me to wash up. I wasn't yelling that loud, even though swinging that high can get a little scary, so I'm sure I would have heard them if they did. As the man of the house, 'cause Poppa told me I was before he left, I decided I should see what was taking the menfolk away from their chores.

Stopping a tire swing can be dirty work, if you do it right, but I didn't have time to do it right, so I just jumped off when it started slowing down. The ground didn't hurt too much when I landed, but it did tear a hole in my trousers. I hoped Momma wouldn't notice. I dusted my clothes off as best as I could as I walked around the side of the house to see what Grandpa and Uncle Jake were doing.

They were watching the road. Whoever was coming didn't seem to be in a hurry, but they were still throwing a lot of dust up. I looked up at Grandpa to ask who it was, but he didn't look too well. Uncle Jake looked at me and told me to run in and get Momma. He told me to hurry.

As I ran in, I forgot to hold the door and it slammed behind me. Momma hollered at me, but I told her that Uncle Jake needed her to come quick. I told her that Grandpa looked like he was sick. Both Momma and Grandma hurried out of the kitchen, leaving me standing their with Annabeth.

I told her that we had to go outside, but she didn't want to get up. She just wanted to play with her doll. I told her that it was a 'mergency, but she didn't act like she cared. I heard Momma and Grandma outside hollering, so I grabbed Annabeth up and tried to carry her outside.

We made it to the front door before I had to put her down. When I looked through the screen, Momma was on the ground on her knees, Uncle Jake was hugging Grandma, and Grandpa was talking to Pastor Samuel and his wife from the church. Mickey Wills, who also goes to our church was standing there, too. He was wearing his Western Union uniform. I saw his motorcycle parked in the grass beside the pastor's car.

I picked Annabeth back up and slowly pushed the screen door open. I put her down on the porch and then closed the screen door as quiet as I could. Annabeth just looked at everyone for a minute. I guess it was the uniforms that made her think of him, but before I could stop her, she toddled to the railing. Holding to it with one hand, she pointed and Mister Mickey's uniform and said, "Dah."

I didn't think she was all that loud, but everyone quit talking and crying, and looked at her. Momma jumped up and ran to the porch. She dropped to her knees and grabbed my sister. Then, she looked at me and held one of her arms out. I could see that she was sad, so I went to her and let her hug me, too. I don't know how long she hugged me and Annabeth, but she cried the whole time. Before long, she even had the baby crying.

I heard the the motorcycle start up and, looking over Momma's shoulder, saw it turn around. Pastor Samuel was still standing with his arm around Grandpa's shoulder. Uncle Jake still had an arm around Grandma as he led her back inside. Mrs. Samuel held the door open as Grandpa and the pastor knelt down by Momma and us and helped her to her feet. She was still holding on to Annabeth.

I started to follow them in, when I saw that Grandpa had left a telegram and an envelope lying on the porch. I figured it must be very important, so I picked it up to take it inside. Since I was learning to read in school, I didn't think he would care if I read it. After all, he did leave it on the porch where anyone could see it.

The first thing I saw was that it had Momma's name on it. It said, "The sec...secret...secretary of War asks that I as...assure you of his deepest sym...sympathy in the loss of your husband..."

This story is dedicated to the memory of all of those who's names appeared in the dreaded Western Union telegrams, and all of those who received them. And to all of those who names decorate the stones and crosses in cemeteries around the world.