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A quote: “I’ve said it before: War brings out the patriotic bullies. In World War I, they went around kicking dachshunds on the grounds that dachshunds were ‘German dogs.’ They did not, however, go around kicking German shepherds.” ~~ Molly Ivins
I’ll start with a story …
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Friday was pinochle night. His parents, my parents, playing in the dining room. We’d watch tv in the family room, Rawhide then Route 66, or playing board games until we fell asleep.
He hated to losing to a girl. It earned me extra-hard Indian burns, while he hissed “go on, yell, I dare you!” I couldn’t help my tears, but I clamped my mouth shut and glared back.
Then his dad was gone and they had to move. His last day at school he followed me around.
Years later I heard he died in Vietnam. “Friendly fire,” they said.
Sure.
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Now, it’s your turn.
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. featured image, cropped, Adobe Stock standard license
Lewis says: Every game with Rocky was a lesson! He sat cross-legged on the edge of the sandbox! We learned to shuffle, to deal, to play fair, to bluff, to play not-so-fair!
“Cards, Rocky?”
“Nope, goin’ with these you just give me.”
This was new, we all looked at each other, what to do now?
We played a while, wondering if he had the best hand in the world, maybe we should just quit while we were ahead?
Rocky suddenly, but slowly, fell over face first! EMS took him away, we were all in shock. I put the Royal Flush I took from his hand in my pocket and still have it today!
Sheila Garrett says: “Is this all?” she asked. Only a few scattered cards and the marks of a struggle remained inside the police tape.
“I’ve got the preliminary coroner’s report.” The detective listened as she studied the sand. “Victim was a white male, 210 pounds, approximately 30 to 35 years old. Death by asphyxiation, throat was blocked by playing cards similar to these, plus one receipt, for a Schwinn bicycle dated September 2nd, 2007.”
The detective looked at the two sets of footprints, one large and deep in the sand, the other smaller, not so deep, that walked away. Then she turned and read the sign on the building behind her, Lanister Hills Elementary School.
“Looks like somebody finally got payback.”
It was right after the Turkish War started, but before the US got dragged into it. We were in London with a trade delegation, and I was just getting through the culture shock phase — like discovering that all those high-priced New York shirtwaists and skirts I’d bought before leaving were viewed as “country cousin” clothes around here.
So I wasn’t quite so intimidated by the woman in her sleek Parisian gown, flourishing a silver lorgnette on an ivory handle as she examined the notions seller’s wares. There was no question of her being here to buy — her sort doesn’t make purchases from street vendors. She has staff to acquire the necessities of life — just as she had staff to handle the carriage she’d ordered stopped so she could carry out this inspection.
No, she was here to judge, but what? And then her gaze focused upon the little boxes of a candy the locals called Turkish delight. “Have you forgotten we are at war?”
The man spread his hands in a gesture of supplication. “Please, milady, we make all our confections here, in our own…”
Uneasy, I decided I’d best be on my way. Although we were attached to the Embassy, we didn’t have diplomatic status. To be sure, the aristocracy no longer had the sort of power they once did, assuming the poor man’s “milady” wasn’t just a desperate effort to curry favor, but I had no desire to get crosswise with the authorities here, not when any whiff of an international incident could ruin our chances for the contracts we hoped to land.
By my return trip, the notions seller’s stand was conspicuous by its absence. Where it had stood, there were only a few loose cards in the sand. I wondered whether he had left in such haste that he hadn’t noticed he’d dropped them, or if Madame High and Might’s footmen had given him some “correction.”
Navig8r says: Nerd wasn’t a term back then, but we were nerdy enough to go to the library and look up details about historical figures to embellish our cowboy games. I became Wyatt Earp. BillyBob became Wild Bill Hickock. Pat Garrett and Bat Masterson rounded out our crew. We learned poker from my big brother. One hot afternoon just after the deal, BillyBob let out a scream, knocked over the whole table and a fresh pitcher of Koolade, and took off running. Turned out, he was superstitious. Hours later when he had calmed down, he explained to us about aces and eights.
Dupin says: Well, a game had been going on here, but what happened? We would’ve been shot full of holes if we’d been spotted. Element of surprise stayed intact. I waved Alpha team to move forward, Bravo standing overwatch.
As we crept forward, we heard voices and the sounds of a struggle. As we moved closer, I couldn’t make out the language. We’d found the enemy, and three soldiers were beating the hell out of the fourth one.
Sander grinned at me. “He cheated,” he whispered, and I shook my head. Their bad luck, I thought.
I turned, quietly ordering, “Fix bayonets.”
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