Rest in Safety

"I was asked to go to officer school after the battle at New Guinea ," said Comer, munching his extra crispy fried chicken in the back seat. It was strange to be envisioning WW2 while the world sparkled in springtime splendor around us. The cherry trees were all abloom and we were slowly driving through a beautiful pink dappled subdivision. Evelyn sat beside him, and glanced at him when he spoke, but was more focused on the buttery biscuit she nibbled on. I hate Alzheimers, I thought, not for the last time.

I knew Comer had fought and led troops in New Guinea against the Japanese. I had not known what a critical battle it had been. Coincidentally that week, Asherel and I had studied the battle he was in. It had preserved Australia from being overrun by the Japanese. It was considered a pivotal battle of the South Pacific theater in WW2. The Battle of Milne Bay in 1942 was the first time the Allies decisively defeated the Japanese on land, forcing them to withdraw and lose their toehold in Australia. I could not picture my gentle friend holding the gnarled hand of his somewhat bewildered wife hoisting a gun against anyone.

"Yep," said Comer, "They asked me when the battle ended. I was the first soldier in the South Pacific to be selected for officer school."
"The very first?" I exclaimed, "You must have been so proud! "
My old friend is full of surprises. I was driving around a bone fide hero, feeding him fast food and learning of courage and bravery that was settling like dust in the past with so few to stir it up. He smiled with a nod, while his wife of 60 years looked straight ahead, seemingly oblivious to the profusion of cherry blossoms against the flawless blue sky.
"I sure was, me and my brother both. They sent us to Australia for the training school. Problem is, we never got to finish."
"Oh no! Why not?"
"Well we both got malaria so bad in New Guinea that we failed the medical exam. And my brother had it worse than me."
"That must have been disappointing."
"Sure was. Our battle in Milne Bay was the turning point of the war. When the war ended, I resigned. They made me a corporal, but I wanted no more of war, so I got out."

I was glad he was able to resign, to taste some of the goodness of life and leave the horror behind him. The malaria had ravaged his body for seven years, but he had gone on to live a long and rewarding life. He had just celebrated his 93rd birthday. If only Evelyn could resign from Alzheimers. She had been silent the entire drive. I had played the CD of 50s music quietly so Comer could reminisce about the war. But now he fell silent, and I turned up the volume on the tape. Then I heard her sweet soprano voice singing for the first time that drive. She was singing one of my favorites, Red Sails in the Sunset. Comer smiled at her as she sang. It was one of the most popular songs in the 50s. The Beatles even recorded it in 1962. It is a song of longing, of knowing that just on the horizon, better things await. It is the hope of love returning, and no more longing unfulfilled. It is the glorious beauty of a sunset that will slowly turn to night, and then the eternal hope of tomorrow. In my mind, it is a song that reminds me of God, and His sweet promise that there will be a safe harbor one day, when we can lower tattered sails, and worn out travelers will be welcomed home.

Red sails in the sunset
Way out of the sea
Oh carry my love one
Home safely to me

She sailed at the dawning
Oh way out and blue
Red sails in the sunset
I'm counting on you

Red sails in the sunset
Way out of the sea
Oh carry my love one
Home safely to me

Sweet wind we must borrow
Make straight for the shore
We'll marry tomorrow
And you'll go sailing no more

Red sails in the sunset
Way out of the sea
Oh carry my love one
Home safely to me

Job 11:18
You will be secure, because there is hope;
you will look about you and take your rest in safety.



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