He was never the same after he come back from France.
When he joined up with Pershing and them, he was thirty, but full of fire to beat that old Kaiser.
Armistice was signed most a year before he got home to Jessup.
I was the only one recognized him, he looked so different.
He wheezed and rattled like an old window, thin as a stick with white hair.
He wouldn’t say nothing. Just picked up his shovel and dug. He dug all the time, dug for years, holes and holes.
Kids teased that he was like to dig to China.