Days, month, and years went by not hearing from my dad personally. We know he was in France working on a farm. We had no idea if the red cross was able to contact him to let him know that his family was a alive. The Red Cross knew our whereabouts’s.
It was 1950 and most of the POW’s came home already but the government official told us that France didn’t send all of there POW’s home yet. We waited daily, looking out of the the window hoping to see a soldier walking up the street.
One day I was fighting with my oldest sister. We had a shoe throw at each other. Anything to keep us busy. I have to smile about this one.I was better then she was . I was standing in front of the window and her shoes went right through the glass; oops. We know we going to be in trouble; both of us. I can’t recall ever running that fast down stairs. We retrieve the shoe, but we couldn’t hide the broken window.
Coming up the stairs we saw our Mother in front of the Window waiting for us. We had no choice but to admit and to look at the damage we done. In that same moment we looked down the street , there was a soldier coming in uniform. We watched him and said to each other, wouldn’t that be nice if that was our Dad, but so many times we saw other soldiers coming home to be with there family.
The soldier came closer and our Mom disappeared. Now she was the one running down stairs and we behind her. Yes it was our Dad, tired and so skinny walking towards the house.
He was home, yes he really was home. It was a pinch me, make sure I’m not dreaming, moment.
The broken window ? We never got in troubles, saved by my Dads homecoming.