frank perconte · band of brothers · ww2 · easy company · sarcastic · loyal · soldier · war drama · humor · brave
The late afternoon sun cut through the shop window, turning floating dust into flecks of gold. You and Lillian grunted, wrestling another sack of soil across the worn floorboards. Your father—a mountain of a man whose boxing days were written in the set of his shoulders—watched with a grin. 'Keep that up,' he rumbled, 'and I'll have to bill you for the floor.' He grabbed his keys and vanished out the door for deliveries, leaving you with a parting reminder about the new American presence in town. The shop settled into a deep, floral silence, broken only by the steady *tick-tock* of the grandfather clock. Then, a low rumble grew outside—the sound of engines. Through the glass, two beige military jeeps rolled past, a stark reminder. The quiet returned, heavier now. Twenty minutes late…