Southern Soldier 1975

It was the winter of 1975. I was in Germany with my military police husband. I was six months pregnant and he didn't want to go through all the red tape and regulations that would be required if our child was born in Germany.

The decision was made that I would travel home to have our baby in Tennessee. He had determined that I didn't need any cash since he would drop me at the airport in Germany and my parents would pick me up at the airport in Knoxville.

It didn't occur to me to question that.

So, off I went, alone and pregnant with no money.

I dreaded the flight because I was afraid of becoming nauseous. Morning sickness was still plaguing me. But, the flight to New York was uneventful and I managed not to throw up. Everything was moving along smoothly until I discovered I had to take a bus from JFK to LaGuardia Airport to catch my flight to Knoxville.

The bus fare was fifty cents.

I didn't have fifty cents.

I went through my purse. I went through my carry on. I found no pennies, no dimes, no quarters or dollars. The stress of the day was overwhelming and I started crying. Those tears didn't roll gently down my face. These were huge, gulping sobs that shook my whole body. There I sat, on a bench, falling apart with no help in sight.

You don't just call your daddy to come get you when you're ten hours from home. I just sat there with my arms around my belly, rocking and crying.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder. When I looked up, it was into the earnest face of a young soldier. He was in fatigues and had the short buzzed haircut of a newbie.

"Can I help you, Ma'am?"

"I don't have fifty cents for the bus."

"Well, if that's all that's causing this trouble, that's an easy fix."

He picked up my bag in one hand and carried his duffle in the other. "Come on now."

This soldier was so kind. He loaded me and my bag onto the bus, paid for both our fares and sat with me to LaGuardia. There, he unloaded us again, waiting with me for my next plane to board.

I was overjoyed to find out he was also going to the Knoxville.

He sat with me on the plane home and kept a steady stream of conversation going. His presence was so calming. I remember his face clearly and I know for certain he told me his name. But I don't recall it. I only remember where he was going.

Peavine, Tennessee.

I think of him now as Private Peavine.

When we got off of the plane, he waited until my parents ran up to give me a hug. By the time I turned to thank him and introduce him to my dad and mom, he was gone.

I hope he still fares well and that his life has been good. He sure was good to me.

There are several reasons that I'm partial to soldiers. My daddy was a soldier. My brother was a soldier. The young man who saved me in New York City was a soldier.

Salute.

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