Night Watch

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Night Watch

"Your son is here," the nurse said to the old man. She had
to repeat the words several times before the man's eyes opened.
He was heavily sedated and only partially conscious after a
massive heart attack he had suffered the night before. He could
see the dim outline of a young man in a Marine Corps uniform,
standing alongside his bed.

The old man reached out his hand. The Marine wrapped his
toughened fingers around the old man's limp hand and squeezed
gently. The nurse brought a chair, and the tired serviceman sat
down at the bedside.

All through the night, the young Marine sat in the poorly
lighted ward, holding the old man's hand and offering words of
encouragement. The dying man said nothing, but kept a feeble
grip on the young man's hand. Oblivious to the noise of the
oxygen tank, the moans of the other patients, and the bustle of
the night staff coming in and out of the ward, the Marine
remained at the old man's side.

Every now and then, when she stopped by to check on her
patients, the nurse heard the young Marine whisper a few
comforting words to the old man. Several times in the course of
that long night, she returned and suggested that the Marine
leave to rest for a while. But every time, the young man
refused.

Near dawn the old man died. The Marine placed the old
man's lifeless hand on the bed and left to find the nurse.
While the nurse took the old man away and attended to the
necessary duties, the young man waited. When the nurse
returned, she began to offer words of sympathy, but the Marine
interrupted her.
"Who was that man?" he asked.
Startled, the nurse replied, "He was your father."
"No, he wasn't," the young man said. "I've never seen him
before in my life."
"Then why didn't you say something when I took you to him?"
"I knew there had been a mistake by the people who sent me
home on an emergency furlough. What happened was, there were
two of us with the same name, from the same town and we had
similar serial numbers. They sent me by mistake," the young man
explained. "But I also knew he needed his son, and his son
wasn't there. I could tell he was too sick to know whether I
was his son or not. When I realized how much he needed to have
someone there, I just decided to stay."

By Roy Popkin
Reprinted by permission of Roy Popkin (c) 1964,
from A 5th Portion of Chicken Soup for the Soul
by Jack Canfield and Mark Victor Hansen.