December 7, 1941------December 7th, 2006
In Infamy
To all those that did their duty.
And all those
Who know the difference
between soldier and civilian
And to
my grandfather
who nearly lost his life that day
but lived
to be an example
to me
and the world
It was an odd place for him to be. Standing on the extended deck, watching the Hawaiian palms sway in the breeze, Harry Potter had to
center himself before he got lost in the purity of the moment.
He smiled softly. His companions had arrived, walking with silent steps to join him in looking out over the harbor.
"Hard to believe it looked like ten miles of bad road once, eh' son?" Said one, his mouth twitching in the barest hint of a smile.
"Just like Hogwarts that day." Another sighed.
"What's on your mind, friend? Wouldn't of come to our old haunt without a reason. 'Less you're a tourist, but even they have a reason."
"How do you do it? Its been ten years since my war, many more since yours, and I….." He turned, lost, towards a man who resembled Dumbledore in his long red hair and neatly trimmed beard. His pear-green eyes regarded him kindly as he laid one hand on the young man's shoulder.
"Just like those who even now are looking out their windows, remembering when the sky was alight with the rising sun. It's a soldier's thing, sonny. You know that. Its why you're here, 'cas you can't understand why everyone else is so gung ho to persecute the families and of the people that hurt them."
"Draco has changed. He saved himself when he took my offer. He's getting married soon, to a Muggle-born to boot and people still look at him like filth….oh, sorry, a Muggle is a non magical person." He offered sheepishly.
"Listen, Harry." Said the red-haired man, "They're never going to get it quick. We're fighters, we do our duty because we have to. Some, like Alan here's granddaughter, can see the history for what it is---history." Alan grinned, having already announced his granddaughter's marriage to a young Japanese politician, coincidentally the grandson of a man who bombed the very harbor they were gazing upon.
" But sometimes," continued the first man who'd spoken, a portly fellow with a wooden pipe sticking out of the left side if his mustached mouth," Well, sometimes people who aren't involved get personal with it. We know those fellas we're doin' what their Emperor told them to, just like we do. Soldiers don't take it personal. We know its just duty, and we let it go."
"But its not right."
"No, It isn't. Eventually though, you'll get some kids who don't remember what happened, who were too young or else unborn when you took down Voldemort. And they'll analyze the hell out of it and see it for what it is. Mistakes on both sides killed men and women here and over there in Hiroshima and Nagasaki. But its over, and there no point in---pardon the expression---beating a dead horse."
Harry smiled, raising his head to look out at the reef, the shadows of ships visible under the clear waters.
"Thanks. I guess I just needed to hear it from the truest experts." His companions chuckled.
"There are no truer!!!" One laughed.
One by one they left until only the red-haired man stood by Harry as he bent down, roses in hand, and placed them beneath the marble marker.
" Thanks." he said, turning to the last man. His lone companion stood up tall and ramrod straight just as Harry raised a hand to his head in military salute. The other man copied him and smiled before turning and walking off the deck into the bright waters.
The wind had no effect on his long hair, nor did it tease the white cap from his head as he walked lower and lower into the harbor, towards the hulking mass of the U.S.S. Arizona. Before he faded into his resting place, he turned and smiled one last time.
'Godspeed my friend. Godspeed.'