We Few, We Happy Few

They were friends long before I met either one of them,

The trauma of war had changed them immediately from idealistic teenagers to survivors.

When the three who emerged from the never to be forgotten horror returned home they had bonded for life,

Terry Sullivan was my husband’s friend and is now the sole survivor of the trio. He religiously called from across the country on Art’s birthday, and has faithfully continued the practice long after his friend’s death.

While it is now 15 lonely years since my beloved boarded the Ferry, I believe he knows he is not forgotten by either of us.

This year’s call was especially welcome because I was also aware the two friends shared the same birthday, and it would be Terry’s 97th.

My husband’s friend and I spent less than 8 hours in each other’s company before death ended the annual reunions. Yet we bonded in that brief time, and for some vague but strong reason, Terry and I became and remain close friends.

He remains a strong voice from across the country with valid suggestions and advice parallel to what I would have heard from another.

Yesterday’s call was an unexpected gift when I needed not only his wisdom and approval but also a reminder of Shakespeare’s famous quote:

“We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.”