Kim

A wartime army camp is no place for a little girl. It's no place for any child, but it didn't stop the children from coming.

Rudy arrived in Seoul, having disembarked from the HMCS Huron as part of the 1st Commonwealth Division in June, 1953. With only a month or so left in the War, he and his fellow soldiers were fortunate not to see much actual combat.

The boys barely had a chance to settle into thier modest accomodations before being swarmed by children. There had to be at least 20 of them, ranging in age from 2 to 13 or 14. They were all dressed in tattered clothes, the younger ones had tear-stained faces, and they were all visibly dirty, yet they all smiled widely. They grinned and batted their ravenous eyes, a strangely desperate form of seduction they, and tens of thousands like them all over the Korean peninsula, had picked up as a means of survival. Western soldiers, they quickly learned, often had sweets, candy, gum, and other tasty treats and most were more than willing to share.

Rudy and half a dozen of his comrades quickly began emptying their pockets as the swarming youngsters pushed and shoved, each clamouring for a share in the bounty. The pathetic sight of these starving kids brought tears to his eyes. He knew what it was like to go to bed hungry, to have a stomach sore with emptiness. He felt that pain more than once as a child. But he was lucky, there was always something to fill the hole, at least partially, at breakfast the next morning. He swallowed hard, shoving the coming torrent of water back down; there was no way he was letting anyone see him cry.

Collins, a gunner with wide blue eyes, a smart mouth, and a soft heart wondered aloud, "what's with all the kids?" as he opened his kitbag and started handing out processed cheese and cracker packets from his rations.

Major Benson, one of their commanding officers, now on his second tour in the peninsula, called out, sharing his knowledge to the group, "these kids are orphans, there's tons of them all over the country. Parents were likely killed in the fighting. They always come to the new troops to see what they can get." His tone was one of annoyance, not compassion, as he added, "you all go on and fill your boots now, but come chow, I don't want to see any of these kids here, got it?"

Rudy didn't like what he heard. How could they turn them away? They were starving. They needed more than wine gums and crackers. They needed a good feed, meat, potatoes, bread and butter. "Couldn't they come to chow with us," he asked, "you know, just this once, give 'em something they can survive on, 'leastways for a while?"

Benson pulled his khaki pants up over his protruding stomach and straightened himself in that way people do when they wish to convey an air of authority. He really liked Rudy, he was a damned fine soldier, strong, brave and willing to do any job he was given and do it well. What he lacked in education, he more than made up for in willingness and a keen head for remembering what he was told. Rudy could recite the rulebook front to back, back to front. Ask that young man anything on procedure or regulations, he could tell you. But, he had one weak spot, his soft heart. He was a big baby in some ways. Rudy, as Benson saw it, was a bit of a sucker. Give him a sob story, true or not, he'd take it at face value and give the shirt off his back. He had seen the poor Private cheated more than once by his fellow military men, lending money and not being paid back, giving his jacket to a recruit that was too stupid to remember his, and on and on. "Johnson," he spat firmly, "we do that, we do that even one time, we'll have a swarm of children here every day!"

Rudy stared blankly at the officer. He failed to comprehend the problem. So what if the kids came back every day. The children were hungry and they had plenty of food, it seemed simple to him.

Benson continued, "they have agencies all over to deal with this problem," he explained, "we simply can't have children hanging around. This is the army, not kiddie day camp."

Rudy nodded. He didn't like it, but now, he understood. A military encampment was really no place for children. There were men running around all the time, some smoking, some having a drink, often in various states of undress. The language was often foul. Benson was right.

He watched quietly as the now satisfied mob began to disperse. As they retreated, they revealed a little girl, standing back from where the crowd had been. She was leaning against a post, her thumb in her mouth. She must have been about 4, but she was tiny, no bigger than a toddler half her age. She wore a raggedy red dress, caked in dirt. Her feet were bare and her thin black hair hung down in matted clumps.

Rudy approached the waif, with an apple he grabbed from his bag, bending down to view her on her level. "Hi," he said softly offering her the fruit. She reached out and snatched it, biting into it eagerly, her big brown eyes trying to sparkle beyond the starvation. He took her hand and led her closer to camp.

Benson looked on, shaking his head, "Johnson," he rolled his eyes, "it's time for the kids to go."

Rudy turned around, "Sir," be asked, almost begging, "she didn't get nothin', she was in the back." He picked the child up and kept moving, slowly, toward the barracks, "it won't hurt nothin' if I give her a feed and clean her up a bit."

The superior saw the tears welling in his soldier's eyes. Overcome by compassion, more for his soldier than the child, he agreed, "that baby is your responsibility, Johnson," he ordered, "she gets in the way, she bothers anything, it's your ass, you hear me, your ass!"

Rudy smiled widely, his chocolate eyes beaming, "Understood, sir!" He saluted and marched the child into the living quarters. He took his kit, along with her, down the long hallway to his room, put his things away neatly, grabbed one of his green t-shirts and his sewing kit and went to the kitchen.

He couldn't explain it, but there was something about this little girl that touched his heart. He was drawn to her. Her eyes were so big and so sad. She was a pretty child, under all that sadness and filth. He sensed something special in her. He wasn't sure what. He sat her on a stool and gave her some crackers. As she munched, he looked at her, and pointed to himself, "Rudy," he said, then pointed to her, gently brushing her shoulder.

The child giggled, but said nothing. She finished the crackers quickly and put out her tiny hand for more.

The compassionate Private obliged, handing her more. He got up, pulled some change from his pocket and retreived an apple juice from the vending machine. He took the top off and handed it to the child. He tried again, pointing at his chest, saying his name more slowly, "Ruuuu - deeee". Again he pointed at her.

The little girl grinned, but again, nothing. She sat her crackers on her lap and gulped down the juice.

He tried again, "Ruuuuu - deeee," pointng at himself and then at her. It took 10 or 12 tries but she finally got it.

"Ruuuu - deee," the child said, her voice weak, but her smile wide.

Rudy laughed, full of pride. He scooped her up into his arms and hugged her. "Yes" he praised her, "yes, Rudy!" Good girl, good smart girl"!

He sat her back down, and tried for her name again. He took her hand and pointed it at himself, "Rudy," he smiled, then moved it back to her, waiting for a response.

Collins was watching, sitting in a nearby corner, smoking a cigarette and piped up, "maybe the kid don't know her name," he offered.

Rudy paused, pondering. He could be right. There was no telling how long she had been out there, all alone. Well, he thought to himself, it the child doesn't have a name, he best give her one. He scanned his brain for a proper Korean name. Nothing came to mind. He didn't know a thing about Korea, well, nothing beyond the briefing he'd received before leaving Halifax.

Collins took a hard drag off his smoke, watching Rudy suffer was more than he could bear. He was quite a sight, sitting there, racking his brain, biting his tongue, which protruded from the side of his mouth slightly as an indication of just how hard he was trying to come up with something, anything. It was time to put the poor man out of his misery. "Call the kid Kim," he suggested.

"Kim," Rudy repeated. Yes, Kim. That made sense. He was pretty sure he may have heard of Korean people named Kim. It was an easy name to say for the child, short and sweet, and pretty, just like her. Kim it was!

The naming exercise continued, with Rudy pointing at himself and saying his name, then pointing at her with the name he had given her. It didn't take long before she adopted it.

The baby pointed at herself, "Kim," she beamed, and then to the gentle Black man in front of her, "Ruuuu-deeee".

Rudy stood up with a whoop, and again scooped her up, swinging her around in jubilation. He was Rudy and she was Kim, and he was untterly and completely in love with the little waif. He set her down again, this time on the floor. Now that the child was fed, he knew the next order of business was to clean her up.

He pulled out the t-shirt he had grabbed from his kit and held it up to her, figuring. He stood up, made the sign for just a minute, one finger in the air, and grabbed some scissors from the counter, and started cutting. He held the shirt up again. Not quite right. He began hacking at the sleeves. After the cutting, he pulled out his sewing kit and began to stitch furiously.

Collins had gotten hismelf a cold beer from the fridge to combat the muggy heat of the Korean summer, "Jesus, Johnson," he exclaimed, "you making that kid a dress now?" He laughed heartily, the sight of a soldier in uniform making a dress was just too much.

Rudy stopped stitching for a moment and stood up, revealing his muscular frame, "what of it?" he asked.

Collins gulped, he wasn't looking for trouble. He liked Rudy, even respected him. Most of all, he feared him. His exploits were already legendary. Rudy would never start an argument, but he sure would finish one. "Cool it, man," he cooed, "just asking". And to smooth things over, he offered, "I got some extra buttons, if you wanna make it all pretty".

Rudy smiled and shook his head, he knew all about children, there were enough of them in his family, "thanks, Collins," he replied, "but little kids tend to put things in they mouths, like buttons an' they can choke". He continued sewing quickly for a few more minutes, Then he paused, held the makeshift frock up to the child and left the room.

He came back a few seconds later with a large metal washtub. He looked around for a hose or something to fill it. Nothing. He took it back outside, there was a hose on the side of the barracks. He filled the tub with cold water, about halfway, and went back inside. He looked around.

"We got any big pots?" he asked Collins.

His fellow soldier pointed to the cupboard under the sink, there's a 4 quart there.

Rudy grabbed the pot, filled it and put it on the stove to boil. Once hot, he carried it outside and dumped it into the tub. He did it a few times to get the water just right. The final time, he returned the pot to find Collins standing with a smile, a bar of soap and a comb in hand.

"Here," he offered, "this ought to do the trick".

Rudy smiled. Collins was a good sort. He pretended to be tough, be he really was a decent guy. He led Kim outside and bathed her. Poor thing was filthy, the dirt was caked on her feet and a ring had formed around her tiny neck. The hair was the worst! It was so caked in sweat and sand he couldn't get the comb through it. He shampooed her twice, carefully, then gently tugged the tangles from her hair. Once complete, he wrapped her in a towel, dried her and put the makeshift dress on over her head. He snickered at the sight of it. It fit quite well, but it certainly wasn't pretty. He dumped the brownish water from the tub, put it back and led her inside once again.

He sat her on the sofa, and went to the sink to wash her tattered little dress by hand so she'd at least have something clean to put on in a day or two. As he turned to take the dress outside to dry, he saw her, sound asleep, curled up in a tiny ball, thumb in her mouth. She looked so peaceful, and finally, for the first time, happy. His heart melted and in that instant, he knew exactly what he had to do.

Kim was still asleep when the chow bell rang out at 4:30 pm. Rudy woke her and put his hand to his mouth to indicate it was time to eat. He picked her up and headed over to the mess hall.

Collins laughed, "how you gonna get her past Major Benson?" he asked.

Rudy shrugged. He really had no idea, but somehow, someway, Kim was eating.

Benson stopped him just before he entered the mess. "Private Johnson," he was visibly annoyed, "care to explain your guest?"

"I made me a decision, sir," he replied, standing straight.

"Did you now?"

"Sure did, sir," Rudy smiled proudly, "this here is Kim, she's mine. I'm gunna 'dopt her".

Major Benson looked at the young private quizzically, "what do you mean, adopt her?"

Rudy didn't understand the confusion. "I mean, sir," he softened his voice, "she needs a family and me an' the wife, we been talkin' 'bout starting one".

The commanding officer shook his head, "that's all well and good, but you can't just bring a child from a foreign country home".

"Why not, ain't like she's been seen to here?"

Benson sighed. He was growing impatient, "there are proper channels to go through, legal formalites, things like that".

Rudy stared blankly.

"Listen, Johnson," Benson shook his head, hardly believing what was about to come out of his mouth, "the kid can stay for chow, and can sleep downstairs in the sitting room over in the barracks..."

Rudy hopped excitedly, squeezing the child warmly.

"But," Benson continued, "tommorrow, she goes!" His tone changed, "we take her to the orphanage, they'll see she's looked after..."

The young private began to protest, "but, sir..."

"But nothing, he spat, "that is an order, soldier! You hear me?" He continued, "you get permission from the wife, and then the orphanage can do everything up legal. It's the only way, son, the only way". He had to admit, he admired Rudy's compassion for the pretty little girl, even if he did find it more than a little frustrating. "We're in a war, Johnson," he reiterated, "you can't bring a child along for the ride".

Rudy sighed, he knew he had been beaten. He also knew his commanding officer was right, there was no way in the world that any country was going to allow a man, especially a Black man, to just walk off with a child. That, and he'd have duty soon, Kim couldn't stay at the barracks. And she certainly couldn't go out in the field with him. It wasn't safe. He wished more than anything there was a way to make it work, to keep her with him, but there wasn't. "May we proceed, sir?" he asked.

"Ham dinner tonight, "Benson grinned, stepping aside to allow the private and his dinner companion inside. "09:00 tommorrow, Johnson," he warned.

"Yes, sir," Rudy nodded eagerly, "understood sir, we'll be ready!" He saluted and took the child inside for chow. He had to admit, Benson was being more fair than most officers he knew. As he sat down to eat, Kim on his lap with her own plate in front of her, he began crafting his letter to his bride in his mind.

He was certain Winnie would love Kim as much as he did when she heard about her. She was a kind, loving sort. They had met and married shortly before he shipped out and were eager to start a family upon his return.

He'd never met a woman like her before. He remembered the first time he saw her. She was walking down Gottigen Street with her sister. It was a sight to behold, she was short, very short, maybe 5 feet, maybe not quite, slender, but thick, the kind of girl that kept herself nice, but obviously knew a hard day's work. Her sister was at least 9, maybe 10 inches taller and very broad. They looked like Mutt and Jeff, so opposite to one another.

Winnie was dark skinned, with soulful brown eyes and a smile that lit up the room. Her personality was magnetic, she made friends everywhere she went. And she was smart, really smart. She read all kinds of books and could speak on any topic at all. And she was a good, decent girl, raised in the church. She wanted the same things he did, a home and a family.

After chow, Rudy laid Kim down for the night and set to writing his letter:

Dear Wife,

How are you? I am fine. We got here safe. Food is good but it's very hot outside. I have a surprise for you. Her name is Kim. She is a baby. She is 3 or 4 and she don't have parents. They was killed, I think. In the war. She is smart and pretty and I love her and you will love her too. She is small and has black hair. Major Benson says we can adopt her if you say the word. But you have to say yes. Please can you say yes? She will have a good home with us and she will be a good girl. She is very quiet and minds real good. You said you want a family and I do too. Please say yes. Write back soon.

Love,

Rudy

PS: Can you send some extra candy in your box so Kim can have some treats. She is very hungry.

09:00 came much too quickly and soon, Rudy's heart was full of anticipatory regret. He wasn't sure he could hand what he now viewed as his daughter over to strangers, even if it was temporary. He rehearsed their names with her again, this time, giving himself a title, "Papa Rudy," so she'd know he loved and wanted her.

Kim seemed to understand the word Papa. She smiled warmly, her heart obviously full of love as she said it the first time, her tiny hand on his chest, "Pa - Pa Ruuuuu - deeee".

He hugged the child tight as he and Major Benson made the 2 mile walk to the orphanage. He did his best to hide his sorrow, making jokes with the child, "stealing" her nose and putting it back. As they approached the stark looking building, Kim tightened her grasp on her "Papa Rudy" as if she sensed what was coming.

As they entered the facility, Rudy noted the strong antiseptic smell. It made him sneeze. It was a stark, sterile place, devoid of joy. They were greeted by two women. The first was a stout, middle-aged Korean lady with graying black hair tied back in an efficient bun. She wore a crisp, starched white dress and sensible shoes. Her demeanor was one of business, not compassion. She wasn't the type of woman Rudy was expecting to find at a place dedicated to the care of children.

The woman reached out, motioning for him to hand Kim to her. Kim clung to him and he stepped back. He couldn't do it. He couldn't place his girl in the arms of this chilly woman.

The other woman stepped forward. She was taller, thinner, with white hair, pulled back and a bird-like nose. She spoke English, she was American. "Hello," she said warmly, "I'm Marion, Marion Jensen, the matron," she offered her hand to both gentlemen to shake and motioned to a small room off to the side, "please, come in, let's talk."

Rudy nodded and they followed her. At least she was pleasant. Marion waved her hand at the other woman, indicating that she'd take matters from this point.

Once seated in the tiny room, Marion smiled, looking at Kim, "and who is this pretty young lady?" she asked.

Rudy sighed, his heart heavy, knowing these were the last few moments he'd have with his precious girl for a few days. He started duty tomorrow and he had no choice but to turn her over, even though it wasn't forever. "This here's Kim," he spoke up, his voice cracking, "'least that's her name now. She didn't seem to have one from what I could gather".

Marion nodded knowingly, "it's common, sadly, with the younger ones. They had names, but once their parents are killed and they're out there alone for a time, it all fades..."

Rudy continued, not meaning to interrupt, but he wanted to make the situation plain, "she ain't here permanent, ya see," he explained, "I am to 'dopt her, she's mine. I gotta get the wife's permission and as soon as I hear back with a yes, I'm taking her out".

Kim touched Rudy's chest, as if on cue and smiled at the lady opposite her, "Pa -Pa Ruuuuu - deeeee".

Marion beamed. Kim was a beautiful child and obviously she and the soldier in front of her had formed a bond. "Yes, Kim," she pointed to herself, "Matron, may - tron".

Kim pointed at her, "maaaay - tron," then to Rudy, "Pa - Pa Ruuuuu - deee," and to herself, "Kim," she beamed with all the pride she could muster as Rudy's eys filled with tears.

Marion handed him a tissue. "I understand, Mister..." she hadn't gotten his name.

"Johnson," Major Benson spoke up as his private struggled to regain his composure, "Private Reuben E. Johnson. And what he tells you is true. He's had the child overnight, fed her, bathed her, even made her a dress. He is indeed waiting on permission to legally adopt her. We posted the letter this morning and expect we should hear back in a month's time or so".

Marion continued, her green eyes soft, "yes, Mr. Johnson, I understand. We will take good care of her, I promise you that. And when your wife gives permission, there will be some legal paperwork and a fee to deal with".

Rudy nodded.

She stood up, reaching for Kim, "Mr. Johnson, it's time," she said, "I must get Kim settled. Prolonging matters will do no good for you or her".

Rudy stepped back, "am I gunna be able to see her?" he asked, tears now streaming down his face.

Marion nodded, attempting to console him, "of course, visiting times are Wednesday and Friday, 2 to 4 and all day Sunday. You can come at anytime during those hours."

Kim reached up and wiped the tears from Rudy's cheek, "Pa - Pa Ruuuu - deeee," she cooed as he handed her to the Matron. She had tears in her little eyes too, but she didn't make a fuss. It was almost as if she understood what had to be done.

"She'll get the best of care, you have my word," Marion reiterated, "I expect I'll see you Friday?"

"Yes, ma'am, you will, Rudy waved at Kim one final time and turned to leave with his commanding officer.

Benson put his arm around his shoulder. "you did right, Johnson," he explained, "Kim'll be your's in no time, but even so, you got 6 months here, so she'd have to be over there anyway. It's not like you can leave your post to babysit."

"Yes, sir, you're right, sir," Rudy agreed, shaking the Major's arm off him gently, " think I might walk into town, clear my head, if that's okay, sir".

Benson smiled, "as long as you're where you're supposed to be at 06:00 tomorrow morning, you can go to Alaska as far as I'm concerned." He laughed at his own joke.

Rudy trudged the mile and a half into Seoul, dejected, but determined. He consoled himself with thoughts of all the things he and Kim would do when he could bring her home. He knew Winnie would adore her. She'd teach her English, to read and write, she'd be good at that. He would take the little girl to the park, the beach, shopping, all over. He'd show her off to his family and they'd all love her too. She would go from an orphan to having a mom and dad and aunts and uncles and more cousins than she could possibly count, and maybe someday, a brother or sister of her own as well. He smiled slightly to himself. Life was good.

His thoughts were interrupted by a dozen or more little voices calling to him, "Mister, Mister!" More children, just as dirty, just as sad looking as the ones that greeted him and his fellow military men at the base. He continued to walk as they followed him until he saw what looked like a small convenience store or supermarket. He couldn't read the sign, but there were sweets and cakes in the window. He held up his arm to quell the young crowd and entered the store. He grabbed up a variety of candy, small cakes and other treats, put them on the counter and pulled out a bill. He wasn't sure how much it cost or even how much he gave the clerk, but he got a bag of treats and a fist full of change.

He walked back out onto the street and began handing out the bounty to the clamouring youngsters. It broke his heart to see these orphans reduced to begging for their very survival. He knew he probably spent too much money, but he couldn't just walk past them.

He caught a woman watching him out of the corner of his eye. She was slender, attractive, probably in her mid twenties, with a modest floral dress and black hair trimmed into a neat bob. As he passed out the last of the treats, she smiled at him, and gave him "the look". He knew that look. Best keep walking.

Rudy did a little more shopping. He bought a few things for Kim, to take to her on his next visit, a couple of dresses, a pair of little black shoes, and a few toys, blocks, a teddy bear, and a funny looking stuffed cat that caught his eye. He managed to get back to camp well before chow time.

As the weeks passed, Rudy visited Kim as often as he could. The war ended and his unit's job transitioned from a combat role to one of peace keeping and monitoring. Somehow this meant more, not less, work and he couldn't always see her every single visitation day. But he did his best to make sure each visit with her Papa Rudy was special.

He loved the way her eyes lit up when she saw him. The moment Marion, or one of the attendants brought her out to the visiting area, she would jump up and down with excitement and squeal, "Pa - pa Ruuuuu - Deee!" Rudy would scoop her up into his big arms and squeeze her, give her kisses, then put her down. The second the child was back on the floor, she'd reach out her tiny hands. She had learned quickly that each visit meant she was going to get something, a toy, a treat, maybe both. Papa Rudy never came empty handed.

This late August day was no exception. He pulled some candy from his pocket for her, and a small folded map he'd taken from camp. He wasn't sure how he was going to do it, but his plan was to show Kim the map and somehow explain that he'd be going on leave, to Japan, for 2 weeks.

He smoothed the map out on the table as the child munched. He pointed to Korea on the map and said, "Kim," then to Japan, and, "Papa Rudy." Marion watched, she giggled softly as he repeated the exercise over and over, to no avail.

"Mr. Johnson," she finally interjected, "I think world geography is a little beyond Kim's understanding at this age."

Rudy paused, "I want her to undertand," he explained, "that I ain't leaving her, that I got leave and then I'll be back for her."

Marion nodded. She knew what he was trying to do and she thought it was very sweet. "Yes, I understand, but young children really don't have a conception of time the way we do." She stepped toward him and Kim, "the time will go by before she even notices, I promise you, and she'll be fine."

Rudy looked at the matron, hard. What she said sounded good, but he didn't really believe it. If only the child understood English, he knew he could have made her understand.

She continued, "I meant to ask," she lowered her voice somewhat, "have you heard from your wife yet?'

The soldier shook his head. It had been just over 2 months and he hadn't heard from Winnie yet. He was certain he'd hear any day now. "No, ma'am," he replied, "they say sometimes the mail over here can be real slow."

Marion nodded. It was true that mail from Canada and the U.S. could take anywhere from a month to 3 months depending on a variety of factors. "It shouldn't be long now."

Rudy agreed, "no, I expect not."

And it wasn't. Upon returning to camp, a battered, but still sealed envelope sat neatly on his pillow. Collins, laying on top of the covers on his bed, adjacent Rudy's quipped, stating the obvious, "you got mail, Johnson."

Rudy excitedly tore into the correspondence. This was the day he'd been waiting for. He knew what it was going to say, but he couldn't wait to see it in print. He read, his hands trembling:

Dear Rudy,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am doing fine, but missing you, of course. It has been quite warm here, although I'm sure not as warm as over there.

I'm sure Kim is a lovely child, but I'm sorry, I can't agree to adopting her. We know nothing about her or what kind of terrible things she may have seen or gone through. Those types of traumas can have very bad effects on a child. There might be things wrong with her that we can't and don't know. Things we can't help her with. Mental things. I am very sorry, but I think it is best she stay in her country with the professional people at the orphans' home. They have nurses there that can provide her with what she needs. Again, I am sorry, but it's for the best. Write back soon.

Love,

Winnie

Rudy could hardly believe his eyes. They stung with tears as his heart sank in a mix if rage and dispair. It never occurred to him that she'd say no. How could she possibly not want her? A good, decent, church going woman like her, saying no to a child, it defied logic. She obviously didn't understand. He crumpled up the letter and threw it in the waste basket. "Damn woman," he thought, "I'm not done with her yet. I'm the man, I'll make her understand." Another letter, maybe with a picture would do the trick. He knew a couple of guys that had cameras. He was sure either of them would let him borrow one for a day. Once she'd seen Kim's sweet face, there was no way she could say no, but that would have to wait until he came back from leave.

Japan was like being in another universe for Rudy. It was so clean, so orderly, orderly to the point he was nervous for the first few days. He wasn't sure what he was nervous about exactly. It was just that everyone there seemed to understand how things worked, and he didn't. His buddies didn't either, but they didn't seem to mind. It seemed like there were people everywhere, going to and fro. But they were very warm and polite. He liked that.

He and his pals spent most of their time in Tokyo. It was a huge city. It was never quiet. Not even late at night. He tried sushi. He didn't like it. He choked it down so as not to be rude, but to him tuna didn't belong in a roll of rice, it belonged first in a can, then in a sandwich with lots of mayonnaise.

While his buddies were out chasing women, Rudy shopped for Kim. She was always on his mind. He imagined how excited she would be if she had been with him. He could just imagine her eagerly pointing her tiny fingers at all the bright lights and interesting things. He'd come back with her, he decided, once the adoption went through, and before they went home, he'd show her Japan. He bought his precious girl some Japanese candy and the most beautiful doll he had ever laid eyes on. It was plastic, with a delicate, hand painted face and black hair. It had a blue and white silk kimono-type dress with a pink bow. He knew she'd love it.

The 2 weeks of leave went by in a flash. The guys complained, but Rudy was glad to get back to camp. It meant he could see Kim. They arrived back on base at about 10:00 am on Wednesday, September 16. He had just enough time to put his things away and grab a quick snack before heading over to the orphanage.

"You rushing right over to see that kid, Johnson?" Collins asked.

Rudy smiled, "that kid is my daughter, and her name is Kim." He paused for a moment, then added, "well, as good as, ya know, paperwork and all that formal legal junk."

Collins shook his head, "man, you're actually serious about this!" It was almost beyond comprehension, that a man could come half way around the world and the only thing he seemed to care about was rescuing some kid. All Rudy did was work, eat and fuss over that child. No drinking, no partying, no women. Sure he was married, but so were most of the guys. It just made no sense to him at all.

"Yeah, of course I'm serious," Rudy quipped, "do ya think I want that doll for myself?"

"Maybe," Collins teased.

Ruddy laughed as he walked out the door, doll tucked under one arm and a bag of treats in the other. Kane, a lanky Australian soilder with a quick smile and kind heart lent him his camera, which he put in his pocket. He walked along, smiling to himself, singing little tunes. There was a spring in his step, almost a skip, as he approached the orphanage.

Marion greeted him at the door, her green eyes darker somehow and moist. There was a mood in the air, subdued, solemn, almost sad. Rudy showed her the doll excitedly, "ain't Kim gonna squeal over this!" he spat joyfully.

Marion smiled a half hearted type grin and nodded. "Mr. Johnson," she began, "come inside, we have to talk."

Rudy nodded. She probably wanted to get started on the paperwork. All that complicated legal stuff took time, he knew. They sat down in her office.

The matron took a deep breath, she wasn't sure where to begin. She swallowed hard, forcing the lump in her throat down into her stomach, "Mr. Johnson, it's Kim ..." she began.

Rudy jumped up, panic filling every fibre of his being, "what about Kim?" he demanded, "is she sick? Where is she? What's wrong? Take me to her! Now!"

"Please sit down, sir," Marion said, trying to calm him. "No, she's not sick," she said. Well, that was technically true, "it's ... well," she couldn't seem to manage the words.

Rudy sat down, deflated. He knew what it was. They'd given her to someone else. Someone came in and snatched her up while he was on leave, right from under his nose. He was angry, hurt even, but he couldn't blame them, really, that was what they were there for, to find homes for children, "she ain't here, is she?"

Marion shook her head.

"Are they a good family?" he asked with tears in his eyes. "Damn woman," he thought to himself, if Winnie hadn't taken so long to write back, and agreed, maybe he could have done something to secure his standing in regard to the child. Maybe he could have paid the orphanage to hold her for him, just for the few months left in his tour.

She paused, staring at him for a moment. She had thought he understood. She had hoped he understood, that she didn't have to say the words, but he didn't.

"No," she began again, now visibly crying, "she wasn't adopted." She wiped her eyes with a tissue and inhaled deeply as if willing herself to spit the words out, "she's, well, I'm afraid she's gone. She passed away last night."

Rudy's breath stopped. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. It simply wasn't possible. He wasn't sure what kind of game these folks were running, but he wasn't having any of it. "Listen, lady," he stood up again, "kids don't just up and die! I know I look stupid, but I ain't. I seen enough kids in my time..."

Marion interrupted, "Mr. Johnson ... Reuben, please," she begged, "I understand, I really do, but the child contracted infuenza. We did all we could. Poor thing, she fought hard, but she just wasn't strong enough..."

"Whadda ya mean not strong enough?" he demanded, "wasn't ya feedin' her proper?"

"Of course," she replied softly, "but she'd been severely malnourished for quite a long time, maybe over a year. It takes more than a few weeks of nutrition to overcome that." She stood up and walked around, approaching Rudy, "I truly am very sorry."

The reality suddenly sank in. As Marion's slender hand landed on his shoulder, it hit him like a punch to the gut. Kim was gone. Dead. His sweet baby was dead. He sobbed violently as sorrow filled his body. The tears wouldn't stop as the sorrow was replaced by guilt. There he was whooping it up in Japan while that poor baby, his baby, suffered, sick and alone. He should have been there. He should have known. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he kept repeating the words over and over through heaving tears.

Marion stood by silently, allowing the man his grief.

What seemed like an eternity passed. Rudy finally composed himself enough to thank Marion for her care. He handed her a handful of crumpled bills, "here, take this, as a donation, so you can make sure the other kids are fed proper."

Marion waved it away, "there's no need, please."

Rudy stiffened, his pride as wounded as his heart. He couldn't help Kim when she needed him most, but he could do this little bit to help others, "take it, and the candy, please."

Understanding how important it was, Marion agreed. The truth was, they could always use donations, and if accepting this one could the pain Rudy was feeling, show was she to argue, "thank you, Reuben, and again, I truly am very sorry."

Rudy nodded and left, doll in hand, a reminder of his precious Kim.