Wishes Unspoken
written by: Jovis Augustine
“POW- 456 – John Rupert.”
“POW- 457 – John Stevenson.”
“POW- 458 – John Stanley.”
As the numbers were called, John Tennessee’s mind wandered back home to rural San Bernardino and his beloved Grace. In his thoughts, he pictured her in the kitchen, weaving her culinary magic to transform a hard day’s work into memorable moments around a table with the beloved.
He imagined how he would hold her hands and talk about the day. Lost in this sensory reverie, John missed his number, and a German soldier pushed him forward. He followed his comrades to a truck labeled: “Königlich Bayerisches 16. Infanterie-Regiment.”
As he climbed onto the truck, John asked a fellow soldier, “Are we being transferred?”
Mr. Sidney, a man in his early fifties from Texas, with a reassuring drawl, responded, “Haven’t ya heard, boy? We’re headin’ back home.”
In a moment of astonished joy, John shouted, “The war is over!”
“Don’t go yellin’, boy. I heard one o’ them highfalutin’ brass of boches hats sayin’ so,” affirmed Mr. Sidney.
The Great War was finally over, and all Prisoners of war had been transferred to the base camp and then home.
John’s compatriots, most from Texas, started singing the famous lines, “Deep in the heart of Texas.” He did not join the music but clapped with them. John was the only Black soldier in his deployment. He remembered the one other Black frontier man who collaborated with the Red Cross.
John’s mind in this music and festiveness went back to their first Christmas after marriage with Grace, where her father played violin and they danced. The only thing missing on that day was that he missed the donuts made by Grace, since she was too busy practicing the dance as a truce, she made him donuts every day after. A little smile appeared on John’s face; he thought how long it had been since he had smiled. Or the last time he had donuts.
He had his last donut made by Grace 3 years ago on the day he joined the Regiment. Then he remembered last Easter, the Red Cross volunteers gave him a wrapped-up donut. He remembered that day he cried heavily thinking about Grace and their son Abel. He had not cried like that even when he was a little boy, but when he was a little boy, he had no one to cry about.
The only thing he remembers about his childhood is a familiar woman putting him in a wagon. He does not remember the journey, but he remembers when he opened his eyes, Martha was there and later, she told him there was a postcard pinned to his torn rug saying, John from Tennessee, so they named him John Tennessee. Martha was a successful baker in San Diego, California. Despite being a woman of color through her captivating culinary skills and perseverance, she was successful and worked in Le Jeune’s Bakery. She brought him to Mr. Smith, who agreed to give him a roof over his head and a meal. Mr. Smith Wilkins was a planter and a landlord. Little John has been appointed to the farm, where he worked hard and got the confidence of Mr. Smith. When he was a young man, Martha happily agreed to marry Grace, her daughter, to John.
All his life has gone flashing before his eyes, he now feels how grateful he should be to all of them for giving him a life and most importantly, his family.
The bus stopped at the base camp, and all the POWs were directed to go to the canteen section. While walking in line towards the entrance, a group of German soldiers blocked John and threw him to the waste filling area and beat him up. John did not know what was happening. Later, a Lance Corporal named Adolf Schicklgruber came and ranted in anger, since it was in German, John did not understand it. Then the Lance Corporal threw a loaf of ripe bread at John and went off. Now John remembered it was the same person during Easter who threw wagons of donuts, beignets, and cronuts above the hill, to show his hatred towards the Red Cross.
“Downright nutty,” John whispered in silence. Later, John saw his compatriots being lined up after lunch. He also went and joined them, of course, John did not have the bread the Lance Corporal gave. But John did not feel hungry, because his mind was filled with thoughts.
John saw trucks coming and opening the half doors. One step closer to home. He managed to get into the first line.
One German soldier started to speak on a loudspeaker:
“Achtung!”
“Come forward und say your name und numbers.”
John’s heart was filled with rejoicing. He was the third man in line to get into the truck and go back home. He initially planned to post a letter when they reached Marne, France, but later thought no better than to be a surprise. He was thinking of the list of items he should buy from France to bring home. A little red Beret for Abel. Champagne for Martha. John is always confused when he plans something to buy for Grace. He was sure to get a sack of flour from France for the deep-fried dough.
He stepped forward and shouted:
“John Tennessee- POW- 463.”
He lined up for the body search, thinking about how French flour might differ from American and whether Grace would appreciate it. He also planned to tell her he would need donuts every day for the rest of his life.
The body searcher was rough, hurting John, but he did not mind; his heart was with Grace and the meal they would share.
“Alles Gut,” someone shouted.
The truck moved forward towards them.
The firing squad opened fire. John fell, his tears mingling with his blood.
The German soldiers tossed withheld mail to the U.S. soldiers and set it ablaze. A telegram to John Tennessee, reporting the suicides of “Grace” and “Abel,” drifted away in the flames.
- Wishes Unspoken - March 25, 2025
- Request to Nature - September 12, 2024
