From the author: Hello, reader. This is my first attempt at writing for SPR and is definitely an experiment. Jackson is my favorite and if I had my way he would not have met the fate that he was given. However, I admire his bravery and integrity. I own nothing you recognize from the movie or history. Have a wonderful day and an even better tomorrow.

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I still remember that day like it wasn't sixty-eight years ago; it was the worst day of my life. The worst day of my life that began one of the toughest times of my life, and i was only seventeen.

It had started out as a normal summer Monday. I'd finished with all of my chores and duties on the farm for the day so I had a couple of hours to myself before Mama would need my help with supper. It was surprisingly mild outside for late June in Tennessee and I decided to spend some time tending my little garden in the front yard. Daddy had bought me some gorgeous petunias over the weekend and they needed planting.

The garden, which was my favorite place to sit and think, actually belonged to both me and my older brother Daniel. We had always enjoyed taking care of it together, and had been doing so since we were little. One summer, when Danny was nine and I was six, our mother got sick of us running amuck all around the house and barns, driving her crazy, so she decided to set us on a task to focus our energy.

There was this great big mulberry tree in the front yard the two of us used to pick and climb all the time that sat about halfway between the house and the road. I guess that was far enough for Mama because she helped us dig up the grass around the base and fertilize the dirt, gave us a few flowers to get started, and told us to take care of it. We could plant whatever we wanted; it was all ours, our responsibility. That was huge to us, that our mother entrusted something like that to us.

When Danny was twelve, Daddy helped him build a bench and a small swing. We carved three crosses in the bench and our names in the swing's seat. That small part of the farm was all ours and served as a refuge when life, love, or our little brother Tommy tried to get in the way of our sanity. Oftentimes the two of us would spend hours out in that garden, either working or just sitting and relaxing, and have a talk. Long talks that ran the gamut from schoolyard crushes to what we envisioned for our lives.

Ever since Danny had left for the war, I'd spent twice as much time under our tree. I'd sit on the swing and worry about him, pray for God to keep him safe, worry some more, and then repeat the process. Tending the garden calmed my nerves and gave me hope; hope that Danny would soon be back home with all of us.

So it was that day that I was on my knees, still in my dirty work clothes, when it happened. I had just finished packing down some dirt around my freshly planted petunias when I heard a car coming down the rural road we lived on. I remember looking down at my watch and thinking it was odd for someone to come calling unexpected after five o'clock in the evening. That should have been my first clue.

I leaned back on my heels and watched as a man in a Western Union uniform got out of the dark blue car and straightened his jacket. He looked over at me for a moment before making his way up onto the porch and knocking on the door. I turned my head toward the grain silo to see Daddy coming over; I guess he'd heard the car, too. I wanted to get up and follow him but for some reason I couldn't move.

"Daddy?" I whispered.

He didn't answer me, only smoothed his calloused hand over my head as he passed, his pace quickening. He hopped onto the porch just as Mama opened the door and reluctantly accepted the telegram after signing for it. None of us moved, not even little Tommy who had come running from the back yard to see who had come to visit, until the man had returned to his car and started back the way he came.

Mama had a hand over her heart as she handed the telegram to Daddy. I stood up, shaking like a leaf, and took a few cautious steps over toward the house as he opened and read the message.

Tommy looked at me, confused and impatient. "Bonnie?" he spoke, but I shushed him, my eyes never leaving Daddy's face. He'd just whispered something to Mama and she was sliding down the front doorframe to the floor, taking him with her. That was when I started running and grabbed the slightly crinkled paper from Daddy's hand. "Bonnie—"

I ignored him as I turned away and sat down on the top step. For a second, I tried to convince myself that I wasn't going to see any bad news when I read it. Surely it was Danny telling us he would be home sooner than we thought and Mama was crying because she was so happy. I almost believed it , but then I forced myself to look at the truth I held in my hands.

WASHINGTON DC

1944 JUN 26

3:37 PM

MR AND MRS ROLAND JACKSON

201 COUNTY RD EAST CEDAR HILL TN

THE SECRETARY OF WAR DESIRES ME TO EXPRESS HIS DEEP REGRET THAT YOUR SON PRIVATE FIRST CLASS DANIEL E JACKSON WAS KILLED IN ACTION ON 13 JUNE IN FRANCE CONFIRMING LETTER FOLLOWS

J A ULIO THE ADJUTANT GENERAL

I didn't know what to do or what to think; it was like my world just stopped. How was I ever supposed to accept that my big brother, my best friend, was dead? He couldn't be gone. It just wasn't possible. This was too much, it...

"Bonnie, what's happening? Why is everyone crying?"

Oh my God, Tommy. I'd been so immersed in myself that I'd completely forgotten about anyone else. Lord, how was I supposed to explain this to a ten-year-old when I could hardly understand it myself? I didn't really want the responsibility, but after glancing over and seeing Daddy and Mama clinging to each other for dear life, I knew I had no choice. I looked back to Tommy still standing at the end of the porch, and motioned for him to come sit with me. He did, and cuddled up close to me, seeming to understand that what I was about to tell him was going to hurt.

"Tommy," I took a deep shuddering breath, "You know how Danny left a long time ago to join the Army and protect us?"

He nodded and smiled. "Of course! He went to fight the Germans. We're gonna win, you know, Danny promised me we will."

"Yes, well, he...he's not coming back, Tommy."

It nearly shattered my heart to say those words. It was hard enough to read them, but hearing them...I could tell by the look in his eyes that Tommy didn't understand. Truly, I didn't either.

"But doesn't he love us anymore? Doesn't he want to come back home?"

"No, that's not it, Tommy, I promise. He couldn't wait to come home," I hugged him tightly, feeling tears form and leak down my cheeks, "Danny went to be with God and all the angels in heaven, like Mr. Heller from down the road last year."

I watched as he processed what I'd said and I hated the second I saw him finally comprehend what it meant. He wouldn't be the same anymore; none of us would. He started to cry and I couldn't handle it anymore; I sort of nudged him toward our parents and stood, leaving that awful telegram next to Daddy. I wanted to be alone. Well, that wasn't really true; the only person I wanted to see was now the one I would never see again, at least not until the very end. So, alone I was.

I walked in a daze back to our garden. I ran my fingers along the back of the bench Danny had been so proud of before sitting down on the swing. If I closed my eyes and concentrated hard enough, I could almost feel him there pushing me like he used to. But then I stopped; it hurt too much. The last time Danny had pushed me on that swing was the day before he left for basic training. It was the last heart-to-heart we ever had face-to-face.

"I'm just scared for you, is all. It's war, Danny. You know what the Great War did to Gramps...I don't want anything to happen to you. I can't lose you, Danny. I can't."

"You won't lose me, Bonnie, I promise. I can't just sit here and do nothing until my number comes up. I've gotta do this, Bon, you know I do."

"Why can't somebody else go instead, huh?"

"If not me, then who?"

I don't know how long I sat there lost in memories before I heard another vehicle approaching the house. A quick glance up showed me it was Pastor Johnson and his wife with their daughter and my friend Mary. News, good or bad, gets around fast in a small town. Mary and Danny had been sweet on each other for years but decided to wait until after the war to start anything too serious. I always thought they'd make a fine pair; now we would never know.

Pastor and Mrs. Johnson made their way up to the house, but Mary spotted me by the garden. Silently, she came over, sat down on the small bench, and started tracing the carved crosses with her fingers. She didn't try to say anything to me and for that I was grateful; it seemed the both of us just wanted to be alone in our grief, together.

-::-

It had been nearly three weeks since the world, for me, had been irreversibly changed forever. There was a tremendous ache in my heart that I was sure would never go away, but I'd finally been able to stop the tears from falling every time I thought about Danny or heard his name or passed by his room. Sometimes I'd see Mama sitting on his bed or standing in front of his dresser. "Oh, Daniel," she'd whisper, "My Daniel."

Every once in awhile I would sneak in there after everyone else was asleep and spend the night. It made me feel like a child but I didn't care. I wanted to feel like he was still there. I'd even taken one of his old sweaters from the closet and put it on whenever missing him go to be too much. It was the closest I could get anymore to one of his hugs.

So it was one afternoon I found myself sitting on a wicker rocking chair out on the porch, wearing Danny's sweater with the sleeves rolled up, when the postman trudged up the dirt driveway from his little truck with a stack of envelopes in his hand. He gave them to me with a polite nod and I thanked him as he left. We didn't get mail all that often, so I was always curious to see what there was; a couple things for Daddy from suppliers, a postcard from Aunt Edith, and then something that nearly made my heart stop. There was a letter for me...from Danny.

There was a split second I got my hopes up that maybe he was alive after all and the telegram had just been one huge foul up. It was irrational, I knew, but I was desperate; the realistic side of my brain reminded me that mail from Europe took a long time and that my brother was truly gone and nothing could change that. I turned the slightly beat up envelope over in my hands a few times. Part of me wanted to rip it open and read it as quickly as I could. But I also knew that this would be the last letter I ever got from Danny; once it was opened and read, there would never be any new words or thoughts from him. As hungry as I was to see what he had to say, I wanted to make the moment last as long as I could, so I forced myself to open it gently, as if it was the most fragile thing in the world.

I ran my fingers over his unique cursive that was halfway between sloppy and neat, something I think he got from Daddy. I always used to give him guff for it but he took it with a grin. I laughed when I saw he had done a drawing in the corner of a dog chasing a raccoon up a tree; he always drew some sort of dumb little cartoon on his letters to me just because he knew I liked them. I squeezed my eyes shut as a fresh wave of grief slammed over me. Finally I pulled myself together just enough and began to read, hanging on every word.

7 June 1944

Dear Bonnie,

Hey there, little sis. I hope this letter finds you well. I'm okay, I guess. You probably won't believe me but as I'm writing this to you I'm sitting on a beach. Can't tell you exactly where, but I expect you'll be finding out before too long. I'm sure it was nice once, and maybe it will be again, but it ain't nothing like when we were little and Daddy and Mama would take us out to the Georgia coast to visit Uncle Henry and Aunt Edith for a couple weeks during the summer. Those beaches, you'd look out and see people all over the place laughing and having fun, and the gulls all trying to steal their picnics when no one was paying attention. Here it's...well, it's different. A hell of a lot different. Maybe I'll tell you about it someday, or maybe not. I do know one thing for sure: I'll be happy to never see anything like it ever again. That's all I'll say about it for now.

They're sending my squad on a mission soon and I don't know how long it'll take. I probably won't be able to write proper for awhile. Tell Mama I promise her a nice long letter as soon as I get a chance and tell Daddy I miss working the farm with him. Tell Tommy to keep practicing his shooting and I'll take him hunting when I get home. I reckon he's old enough now. Bonnie, I can't wait until all this mess is over with and I can get back to you. I really miss our long talks and that garden of ours.

You're my best friend, Bon.

Keep praying for me and for all of us. I know I am, and I also know the Almighty knows what's best.

I love and miss y'all like crazy, I hope you know. I'll write when I can. Try not to worry too much, I'm with some real great guys.

Love from your brother,

Dan...alright fine, Danny

I don't know how many times I read it; twice, four times, ten. I couldn't stop. Every time I read it I could hear him saying the words, see him writing them. So many questions flooded my mind: He'd told me not to worry, but had he felt something was wrong? Did he know he would die soon after he sent this? How was it fair that God would protect him through the Normandy invasion only to allow him to fall a week later? What was the mission he'd mentioned? Was that what killed him?

All those thoughts mixed with the surprise of the letter proved too much. I couldn't stop the tears this time or the sobs that took over me. I'd spent so long trying to be strong for Mama and Daddy and Tommy that I hadn't really let myself react to losing Danny. I think that until then I'd been pretending he wasn't gone forever; he was simply still off fighting the war. I tried to keep myself quiet so as not to alarm anyone, but I must not have tried hard enough. I felt a pair of strong arms wrap around me and didn't even think before melting into them.

"Oh, darlin'," it was Daddy, "I was wonderin' when you were gonna thinkin' you had to hold all this in."

I started to sit up and dab at my face with my sleeve. "Daddy, I'm sorry, I must look such a mess."

He stopped me. "Now don't you apologize, darlin', don't you dare. I know you think you have to keep yourself together for all of us, but you're wrong," he pulled me back to his chest, "My girl, we all lost Daniel. It's hard for all of us, and especially for you, I know. The two of you were like peas and carrots since you were a baby. It ain't healthy to hold all that grief in, Bonnie."

"I can't be like this in front of Mama and Thomas, Daddy, I just can't."

"Well, they're at the Johnsons' for the next couple hours, so you don't have to worry about that. I'm your Daddy. I love you, I'll be strong for you, and I'm here."

I looked up at him for a moment and saw nothing but concern and sincerity in his eyes. Finally, I let myself break down completely. "Danny's really gone, Daddy," I sobbed, "He's not coming back, I'm never going to see him again."

He didn't try to talk about how it would be alright or say stupid things like I'd 'get over it eventually,' and I couldn't have been more thankful. He simply hugged me and rocked me on his lap until I was finished. Even then, when I was calmed down, he made no attempt to move me. I think we were both wishing I was still little and none of this had happened. All of a sudden, Daddy broke the silence with his soft voice. "You know, one of my most treasured memories of Daniel was when he met you for the first time."

My eyebrows knitted together as I craned my neck so I could look at him. "I don't think I've ever heard that story before," I said.

Daddy smiled and rested his head on his hand. "Well then, I'd say it's high time you heard it, darlin'.

"It had been maybe three hours since you were born. Doctor Harrison had just left and your Mama was asleep in our room. You'd started to get fussy so I decided I'd try walkin' you around the house. We ended up in the living room, you were cryin' by that point, and Aunt Edith was sittin' on the sofa readin' to Daniel to keep him occupied.

"Well, his little head shot right up and he rushed over to me as fast as he could, ignorin' Edith scoldin' him for runnin' in the house, and asked me, 'Is that my little sister? Can I meet 'er, Daddy, please?'

I knelt down to show you to him, and wouldn't you know? The second you saw him you stopped fussin' altogether. Y'all were just starin' at each other, like you were mesmerized. It was like that any time you were upset after that; Daniel'd come over and that was that. I tell you, darlin', I've never seen a brother and sister bond like that before. Y'all are somethin' special, and that'll never change, you understand?"

I was quiet a moment before I nodded. It was true; Danny would always be my big brother, my rock, my confidant, my best friend. Not even death could change that. The only thing for a long while that kept me going was my faith and knowing that I would be reunited with him, and then there would never be any more goodbyes.

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