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The Hero{{/B}} My mother's parents came from Hungary, but my grandfather could trace his origin to Germany and also he was educated in Germany. Although he was able to hold a conversation in nine languages, he was most comfortable in German. Every morning, be, fore going to his office, he read the German language newspaper, which was American owned and published in New York. My grandfather was the only one in his family to come to the United States with his wife and children. He still had relatives living in Europe. When the first world war broke out, he lamented the fact that if my uncle, his only son had to go, it would be cousin fighting against cousin. In the early days of the war, my grandmother begged him to stop taking the German newspaper and to take an English language newspaper, instead. He scoffed at the idea, explaining that the fact it was in German did not make it a German newspaper, but only an American newspaper, printed in German. But my grandmother insisted, for fear that the neighbors may see him read it and think he was German. So, he finally gave up the German newspaper. One day, the inevitable thing happened and my uncle Milton received notice to join the army. My grandparents were very. upset, but my mother, his little sister, was excited. Now she could boast about her soldier brother going off to war. She was ten years old at the time, and my uncle, realizing how he was regarded by his little sister and her friends, went out and bought them all service pins, which meant that they had a loved one in the service. All the little girls were delighted. When the day came for him to leave, his whole regiment, in their uniforms, left together from the same train station. There was a band playing and my mother and her friends came to see him off. Each one wore her service pin and waved a small American flag, cheering the boys, as they left. The moment came and the soldiers, all very young, none of whom had had any training, but who had nevertheless all been issued uniforms, boarded the train. The band played and the crowd cheered. The train groaned as if it knew the destiny to which it was taking its passengers, but it soon began to move. Still cheering and waving their lags, the band still playing, the train slowly departed the station. It had gone about a thousand yards when it suddenly grounded to a halt. The band stopped playing, the crowd stopped cheering. Everyone gazed in wonder as the train slowly backed up and returned to the station, it seemed an eternity until the doors opened and the men started to file out. Someone shouted, "It's the armistice. The war is over." For a moment, nobody moved, but then the people heard someone barked orders at the soldiers. The men lined up and formed into two lines. They walked down the steps and, with the band playing behind, paraded down the street, as returning heroes, to be welcomed home by the assembled crowd. The next day my uncle returned to his job, and my grandfather resumed reading the German newspaper, which he read until the day he died. |