As what happens with vets who meet each other, they quickly fell into conversation. What battles had you been in, where had you served, what unit were you with. And it turned out they'd been on opposite sides a couple times in North Africa, Grampa working a radio and the German working in ordinance supply. They laughed over the coincidence.
But Grampa noted the time, he needed to be at the station soon. So he paid for his meal, returned to the German man, stuck out his hand, and said, "The war is over. No hard feelings, right?" The German man smiled, grasped Grampa's hand, and said, "Ja, no hard feelings. We both did our jobs. That's all that was expected of us."
Grampa never saw the man again. But he told me that story numerous times before his death, because he wanted to impart a lesson on me: WHEN THE WAR IS OVER, IT'S OVER. DON'T HOLD ON TO THE HATE.
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