Bobby Goes To War, Arnot McCallum [fb2 epub reader .TXT] 📗

BOBBY GOES TO WAR

My older brother Bobby hated me. But... he was my hero. I wanted to be just like him. I followed him around like a puppy and tried to “hang out” with him. But, I knew for sure that Bobby hated me. He got angry at me just because I broke his model airplanes. He got very angry when I took his pet frog down to the river and set him free. He screamed at me and threatened to “smack me one” when I told Mom he took a dollar from her purse. He was furious when I followed him and watched as he smooched Becky Johnson on the lips behind a tree in Wilson Park.
My brother Bobby treated me like an unwanted wart on his nose. My Dad explained it like this.
“You see Arn, before you came along Bobby was number one. He got all our love and attention. When you were born all that changed. You were a cute, helpless baby. We spent more time with you. Your mother and I thought Bobby was old enough to take care of himself. Well, we were wrong.
That’s why your brother acts up and does foolish things to get our attention. He really loves you but he’s sort of jealous. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
“I think so Dad. I’ll try to be nicer to him from now on.”
Bobby was really smart but he just did not like going to school. He skipped school day after day. The principal phoned our home and threatened to suspend Bobby if he did not show up. My Mom said she had enough. She walked Bobby to school and pushed him through the front door. Bobby walked right out the back door.
No siree! Bobby did not like school. He said he just wanted to see what was over the next hill.
Bobby ran away from home five times. Each time he tiptoed into my room and woke me up. Each time he gave me his Detroit Tiger baseball cap. He stuck the hat on my head, gave me a hug and whispered,


“REMEMBER ARN, BROTHERS WE ARE
AND BROTHERS WE WILL ALWAYS BE”
Then he was gone. I cried myself to sleep.
Each time, in the morning, the police brought him back. Each time Bobby yanked the Detroit Tiger cap off my head and said he was taking it back. Each time I told Bobby that I would not cry if he ran away again. But... each time when Bobby ran away, I did cry. I could not imagine my life without him.
When Bobby was seventeen he ran away from home for the last time. That night Bobby tiptoed into my bedroom and put the Tiger baseball cap on my pillow.
“Here Arn, you can have my Tiger cap. I won’t be needing it anymore.”
“Gee, thanks Bobby,” I whispered.
He leaned over and said,
“REMEMBER ARN, BROTHERS WE ARE
AND BROTHERS WE’LL ALWAYS BE”

I cried myself to sleep.
Then the war came.
The next time I saw my brother Bobby, he was wearing an Army uniform. Bobby joined the Army. Bobby was going to war. I was really proud of my big brother. He sure looked smart in his uniform.
When the Army sent him to war, the whole family saw him off at the railway station. There were lots of other soldiers leaving at the same time. There was a marching band. Flags were waving. The mayor gave a speech.
Just before the train pulled away from the station, Bobby gave us all good-bye hugs and kisses. When it was my turn, Bobby grinned down at me and placed The Detroit Tiger Baseball Cap on my head. He said, “That hat sure looks good on you kid.”
He leaned over and whispered in my ear,
“REMEMBER ARN, BROTHERS WE ARE
AND BROTHERS WE’LL ALWAYS BE.”
The train whistle screamed and my brother Bobby was off to war.
My parents got a few letters from Bobby and he sent me a postcard from England. I even got picture of Bobby in full Battle Dress. Helmet, rifle, bayonet and all. WOW!
I really missed him and I prayed with all my might that Bobby would come home to me safely.
The war seemed so far away. We had shortages of gasoline and sugar but we all got to play in the park and eat lots of oatmeal. We learned lots of patriotic songs at school.
We did all sorts of things to help the war effort.
I collected steel coat hangers for the Armed Forces to be made into tanks and ships. All the kids bought war stamps with their candy money. Even the billboards around town were painted with patriotic slogans like “A Slip Of The Lip Will Sink A Ship.”
The war dragged on.
Then my Father joined the Army and he too was sent off to war.

I decided it was time for me to get involved and join the Airforce.
I rode my bike all the way downtown to the R.C. A. F. recruiting office. With a real swagger I approached one of the recruitment officers and said, “Sign me up. I want to join the
Airforce and go overseas with my brother, Bobby. Just give me one of those Spitfires and I will wrap this up for you in no time.”
The officer grinned down at me and said, “How old are you kid?”
“I’m eight and a half,” I replied.
“Go on home son. Come back in ten years and we will give you that Spitfire.”
I turned and trudged slowly out the door to my bicycle. It was a long, hard ride back home that day.
The war dragged on.
Each night we gathered around the radio to hear the latest news about our boys in uniform.

Then one day the newspaper headline read, “THE WAR IS OVER”.
We all sang, danced and hugged each other. Thousands of people gathered on the main street and sang “O CANADA”. Bands were playing and people were dancing. All the boys in uniform and the pretty girls were kissing and hugging. I even got in a short hug and a kiss too.
I could hardly wait to see My brother. My hero. My Bobby. He would soon be home with the family.
When Bobby did come home, the railway station was dark and deserted. No flags. No band. No mayor. Bobby came home in a wooden box.
My parents would not let me go to the funeral. They said I was too young to understand. Afterwards, everybody came back to our house. They sat around and talked quietly. My Mom cried softly.
After they all left, I jumped on my bike and rode out to the place where Bobby was buried. I knelt down beside his
grave. I took the Detroit Tiger baseball cap off my head and put it on the headstone. I leaned close over the grave and with tears streaming down my cheeks, I whispered,
“REMEMBER BOBBY, BROTHERS WE ARE
AND BROTHERS WE’LL ALWAYS BE.”


The End


>

Text: Arnot McCallum
Publication Date: 04-26-2012

All Rights Reserved