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Franklin woke up in a cold sweat and screamed, he could remember it like it was yesterday. His dog shifted at the foot of his bed as he sat up.
Holland.
He sat up in his bed and turned on his radio.
Olivia-Newton John.
It wasn’t 1944. He was home, thirty years gone and he was still trying to move on from the war.
None of the things in Holland ever did.
That woman in the barn, hanging. Why didn't they open fire? Why didn't Baker give the order?
Franky. Friar.
Friar was the worst.
He still felt guilty about it. Why did they die and not him? He was the one with the stupid nickname after Normandy.
“I miss you buddy but you’re a ghost. Please go away.”
“Am I? Why should I go? You wanted me to die. I remember you saying it-
“I didn’t mean it Friar. I only said it cause if we went in ‘as we were’ we’d lose people and we did.” Franklin said softly and started to cry, “it’s the anniversary tomorrow. I’m sorry.”
"What? Mr. Deathwish can't stand the truth."
“Grandpa? Boo? I had a bad dream. I’m scared Grandpa.” Erin, his niece, told him as she wandered in and found her way into his arms.
“Well, me and Boo here are gonna keep you safe. Ain’t we Boo?”
Boo barked twice and the little girl giggled.
Franklin sighed and held his niece in his arms as the trio drifted to sleep.