A/N: This is my first story… EVER! So I REALLY hope that you like it! Ok, I know it's pretty sad, but I figured it was a good first story. Yes this is a songfic and a one-shot. I DO NOT own "Travelin' Soldier". That belongs to the Dixie Chicks and I also DO NOT own Gale Hawthorne or the concept of District 2… that's for Suzanne Collins! Soooo…. Remember to R&R please! TTFN!

It was 1955 when he got recruited. Just in time or the Vietnam war. Gale was sitting… waiting for the bus in his army green. I guess his bus was taking a while, so, forgetting about it, so he sat in a booth seat in front of me. At the time, I worked at a small café in my hometown. He looked shy, and didn't give me his order until I gave him a smile. I was just writing his order when I noticed him looking at the soft pink bow that held up my hair. As if on cue, his eyes fluttered away.

I came back with his food and coffee, and set them on the table. Just I turned to leave, he stopped me by grabbing my arm.

"Wait," he said, "Would you mind sitting down for a while and talking to me, I'm feeling a little low."

"I'm off in an hour and I know where we can go," I replied.

Just as promised, we went to the pier an hour later. We talked for a while, and we both learned about each other. His name was Gale. Gale Hawthorne. I would have continued talking, too, had I not had a curfew. So, at 9:30 we started walking to my house for him to drop me off. I was walking up to the porch when, yet again, he stopped me.

"I bet you've got a boyfriend but I don't care, I've got no one to send a letter to." He said, "Would you mind if I sent one back here to you?" I agreed and wrote down my address for him. He put it in his pocket and walked away.

So, we wrote back and forth, his address constantly changing. The first was California. The letters started out with simple thing, such as, "How are you doing?" and "What's going on?" but soon they turned into something more and we fell in love.

I promised to wait for him, no matter what. Even when asked to a school dance, I always declined. In district two, though, you have to have a date for pretty much everything or they consider you lame.

But not for me. I made a promise I intended to keep.

Everybody told me I was too young, especially my parents. At least twice a day they would scold me.

"You're too young for him!" They would say, "Waiting for the love of a traveling soldier? Are you insane?" I didn't understand how I was too young, though, because I was only two years younger. So, I said the same thing every day.

"Our love will never end. I'm waiting for the soldier to come back again. I'm never more to be alone when the letter says a soldiers coming home." Then I would walk out of the house and go to school.

Soon, the letters started coming from Vietnam. He told me that he loved me and I said the same. The letters became more heartfelt and he told me he was afraid of losing me… of me losing him. There was one particular letter that I will never forget, though.

"When it's getting kind of rough over her, I think f that day sitting down on the pier and I close my eyes and see your pretty smile." I thought it was romantic. So, I stopped reading and tried his technique. I closed my eyes, and saw him smiling.

But then I kept reading. "Don't worry but I won't be able to write for a while."

I cried. What did that mean? Was he going into war? He couldn't. What if I lost him? I let the thought of it slip out of my mind as my parents scolded me once more.

It was senior year. The last football game of the season. The Lord's Prayer was said and the choir sang the national anthem. The mayor came out and started talking.

"Folks, would you bow your heads for the list of local Vietnam dead."

The list seemed endless. How many people had died? The list was by age—oldest to youngest. One of the piccolo players escaped to underneath the stands near what I guessed to be the middle of the list. Her father had died and she was crying.

I was just beginning to relax when the last name was called. The youngest soldier that had died. "Gale Hawthorne." The last name. No.

No.

This wasn't happening, he wasn't dead. I looked around, nobody looked even a little upset after hearing the name. I had to be—he couldn't be dead! But then my best friend came up to me.

"I'm sorry," she said, sympathy in her voice. "I know how much you loved him." So it was true. My Gale was dead.

Dead. Gone… Forever.

I ran. Everybody tried to stop me. But I ran. I kept running because he was dead. My first and only love dead. He died in the Vietnam war.

I cried. I was never going to hold the hand of another guy. "Too young for him" they told me. They were right. But I just didn't realize that they meant I was too young for this… For losing a true love. But it took me until now to realize it. Because Gale Hawthorne was dead.

Dead.

A/N: Wellll? I really hope you liked it because I worked REALLY hard on it! If you did (or if you didn't) remember to REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! It would be greatly appreciated. I will also be doing lots more stories… but only if I get reviews. So, hope you liked it! Bye!