Travelin' Soldier – Dixie Chicks

Alfred walked into the small cafe by the bus stop as he waited for the twelve o'clock shuttle to the camp. He sat quietly at a booth in the back, watching with care the others who seemed to enjoy themselves around him. A small smile gracing his features. How he loved his country.

Becky looked up from the counter she was cleaning, spotting the boy sitting in her section, she grabbed her small booklet and made her way to him.

"Good day sir," She greeted. Alfred looked up at her, startled a second. "Can I get you anything?"

Alfred nodded slowly, "Yeah, um, just a coffee." Becky smiled sweetly at him and nodded.
"Just as sec." She moved into the back, fixing the coffee he'd ordered before bringing it quickly back to him. "There you go."

"Thanks," He answered quietly, seemingly unnatural for himself that he knew. But today wasn't just any day, right? His first day to the army camp, it was huge.

"You in the survive?" Becky asked politely, interrupting his thoughts.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I'm waiting on the bus now." he answered. Becky smiled. Her smile was so infectious, he had to smile back. "Would you mind sitting with me? I'm kinda lonely right now." He questioned. She giggled lightly.

"I'll be off in an hour, I know somewhere we can go." She answered. He nodded as she hurried back to the bar and he returned his gaze back to the window. However, he soon found himself looking back at her. A simple red bow tied up in her chocolate brown hair, bright, baby blue eyes, and the sweetest smile.

Two days past eighteen
He was waiting for the bus in his army green
Sat down in a booth in a cafe there
Gave his order to a girl with a bow in her hair
He's a little shy so she gives him a smile
And he said would you mind sittin' down for a while
And talking to me,
I'm feeling a little low
She said I'm off in an hour and I know where we can go

Becky glanced up at the clock eagerly before throwing her apron aside. She approached Alfred's table just as he finished his coffee.

The two walked down the the pier where they sat down on the edge, feet dangling over the side, just above the water. Becky smiled, taking in the scene.

"So," She started, "How old are you?"

"19, well, as of two days ago anyway." He answered, a grin soon appearing in his features. She giggled lightly.

"Ok, so than, 'Mr. Soldier' where you gonna be stationed?" she questioned. Alfred laughed.

"The name's Alfred, Alfred Jones." he finally introduced himself.

"Becky Tate."

"I'ma be stationed somewhere in California." he answered her question. She nodded, looking back out at the waters.

"So, Do you have a boyfriend?" he questioned. Becky shook her head.

"Nah, never felt it necessary, why you ask?" she looked up at him.

"Well," Alfred started slowly, "You see, I've got no one to seed letters to. My family's kinda, at odds, and now around much. Well, I was wondering if I might be able to send letters to you. If you don't mind I mean."

Becky smiled, "Of course I don't mind, Here." She quickly pulled a slip of paper from her pocket and jotted down her address, "You can send them here."

"Sweet!" Alfred chimed excitedly.

Becky laughed, "Your funny."

So they went down and they sat on the pier

He said I bet you got a boyfriend but I don't care

I got no one to send a letter to

Would you mind if I sent one back here to you

Month's passed and letter after letter came and went. Back and forth from her to an army camp in California at first, than she found that he was sent to Vietnam. But still, the letters came. She sat, reading one, a small smile, and slight sadness tugging at her heart as she read it.

Hey Becky,

I hope your reading this one. I guess you are from the replies you've been sending. Ha, I guess I'm just a little home sick, that's all. I wanna come home, but you know what, I'm needed out here. It hurts some times, seeing others go through so much pain. These men I serve with, their like brothers. It's scary, last week a bomb was set off in our camp. We had lot's of men injured, but we're ok. Don't worry bout me, the Hero will be just fine. Ha. No, but really, I am kinda scared. But than I think of you, and that day before I left when we sat on the pier. The wind blowing through your hair, the sparkle in your eyes, and that infectious smile of yours. Not mention, the more you mail me letters, the more I see the words you speak, well, write... I think I fall for you a little further each time. Becky, I think I love you. No, I know I love you. I know we're still young, and your kinda still in school, but we're only a year apart! Well, I guess what I'm trying to say, or ask, is. Well, Becky. When I come home, If I come home, would you be my wife? Wow, that was kinda abrupt. Sorry if that made you feel weird, I understand if you don't feel that way. Oh, Hey, don't worry if you don't hear from me in a while. Things down here are getting tough and I don't think I'm gonna be able to write for a while. I'll be fine though, so don't worry bout me. Ok? Oh, well, I gotta go now. Commander just called, I look forward to your letter.

Love,

The Hero,

Alfred Jones

A small tear ran down Becky's cheek, a smile on her face. He'd just kinda proposed. Sure, she was still a senior in high school, but she was 18. Without hesitation, she quickly scribbled down her response in a letter, knowing she wouldn't hear from him in a while.

So the letters came from an army camp
In California then Vietnam
And he told her of his heart
It might be love and all of the things he was so scared of
He said when it's getting kinda rough over here
I think of that day sittin' down at the pier
And I close my eyes and see your pretty smile
Don't worry but I won't be able to write for awhile

Becky stood proudly as the national anthem was sang, and as everyone stood in prayer together. But when then a man stepped up to the podium, her heart sank, with fear and anxiety.

"Folks," he started solemnly, "Would you bow your heads in silence for our local heroes who have died in battle at Vietnam." He began naming names, calling in order of last names. He finally got down to the J's. "Alfred F. Jones." He called. Becky's heart sank further. Quickly, she moved from her seat in the bleachers of the football stadium. Placing her piccolo in her seat, she crawled under the stands where she cried. Sitting in the grass, tears streaming freely from her face, he wasn't coming home. Ever.

One Friday night at a football game

The Lord's Prayer said and the Anthem sang

A man said folds would you bow your heads

For a list of local Vietnam dead

Crying all alone under the stands

Was a piccolo player in the marching band

And one name read but nobody really cared

But a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair

The war ended and a memorial was placed in honer of the hero's dead. In the center of the large plaque was his name. Alfred F. Jones. Inscribed in the polished marble. She began to cry once again, gently tracing the name with her figures. They'd told her, she was to young to love, to young to know. But she didn't believe them. She wanted him, she wanted Alfred. She was proud of him. He was strong, and brave. Even through his fears, he stood for his country, for her. But he would always be with her now, in her heart. And in her memories.

I cried

Never gonna hold the hand of another guy

Too young for him they told her

Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier

Our love will never end

Waitin' for the soldier to come back again

Never more to be alone when the letter said

A soldier's coming home