1939

He was standing in the snow looking East when I left him. I don't think he expected it, that it would be the last time. What can you do? After all, life goes on. I think of him in a way that kills me; it's a cut to the core that only nostalgia and a vast period of seperation can bring about. In my heart I remember the camraderie and the putting of our noses to the grindstone and the accomplishments that good teamwork made happen. Perhaps it's foolish to be nostalgic, but there you have it. You don't know yourself until you are in a tight spot. That's the stuff that moral fibers are woven from. This is the spirit I will be channeling as I begin the next phase of my life. Anne and I will be Paladins.