When I was a young boy my Uncle John told me a story from WWI. But now that I am getting up in years myself, I can't be sure if he was telling me about his brother, Henry, or his own experience. They were both in the Great War of 1918.

During WWI, my uncle was in combat; most likely with the field artillery. Sometimes there were spells of quiet, with not much to do, and rations were short. On a day such as this, my uncle stumbled upon a single cigarette in his breast pocket. He put the cigarette in his mouth and then searched for a match. After checking all his pockets and finding no matches, he asked his buddies, but they had not one match between them. He took a few drags on the dead cigarette, finding no gratification. Then he looked up to the sky and said, " God I do wish I had a match ." Knowing my uncle, he probably said this in Italian.

Then, he told me, he lowered his head to say a prayer. As he did, he notices a single, wooden match at his feet.  Quickly he bent down to pick it up. At that moment Uncle John heard a shot ring out. It seams a sniper's shot just whizzed over his head and missed. Wasting no time he said a quick prayer of thanks.

Now, I never asked if he smoked that fateful cigarette. However, I will always be glad that God was watching over him and brought him home safe; for my life would have been less full, not having known him.

Richard L Paterno

Dec. 18 - 2008