Voices of the Pacific, Expanded Edition

by Adam Makos

After we were married, Recie came down to New River (Camp Lejeune) with me. One night we went out for dinner in Winston-Salem. I was in my uniform complete with my Guadalcanal patch. We were in the restaurant, waiting on our order, when I noticed a middle-aged guy sitting four or five tables away. He was staring at me. Most of us who had come back, we were yellow-looking from taking all that Atabrine. I guess maybe I look obnoxious to him, I thought. I told my wife, “That guy over there has got something on his mind. If he starts over here towards us, you get up and leave and get away from the table.” About that time, I looked up, and there he stood, looking right down at me. I was thinking to myself, Uh-oh! This guy is going to do something! He stuck his hand out and said, “Thank you, son.” His eyes were misty like he was starting to cry. I shook his hand. He turned around and walked out. I remember how humble I felt. I turned to my wife and told her, “That meant more to me than if they gave me a Silver Star. That citizen gave me all the awards he had available.” That really happened.