Trailer Wife

While we waited on the sidelines of the Veteran's Day Parades of my youth, my grandma used to tell a story about one of her and my grandpa's first dates. They were both stationed in Japan, he as a master sergeant in charge of drilling (I think) and she as a communications officer of some kind (she was a WAC). They and another couple went dancing and had a few drinks. When the dance club closed, they bought a few beers, found a football from somewhere, and decided to hit the beach. The closest beach they could find was fenced off. No problem, they thought, we'll just climb it and no one will be the wiser. It was dark, and though they saw signs posted, they didn't stop to read them. A few hours later, the sun was rising over the Pacific and they decided to wander home. Climbing the fence to get back to the barracks, my grandma glanced over to the signs posted. Warning: Live Mines. Do Not Enter. Skull and Crossbones. The math involved in thinking about everyone of their steps missing these mines and coming back over the fence unharmed always preoccupied my grandma. But she always said that, like all young, fearless people, she just thought she was particularly lucky. I love that story, and I will miss hearing her retell it, again, this Veteran's Day.