When I was young, I liked to talk with my father about World War II. He was a lieutenant in the Army, served in Europe, and was responsible for dispatching trucks of food, clothing, supplies, and ammunition to the front. He was always a few miles from the heaviest fighting; still, artillery thundered in the sky and mortar shells burst around him.

One time I asked him if he had any mementos from the war. He showed me a few medals, his dog tags, and several old uniforms. "Anything else?” I said.

He hesitated, then said that he brought home a German Luger that was given to him as a present by another American soldier. My eyes opened wide. "Do you still have it?”

It was in the house, he said, but he didn't want to show it to me. The next time I was home alone I searched for it. Within an hour I found it, under some clothes at the back of his closet. As I held it in my hands, my heart was pounding........

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