(no subject)
Young Sandburg episode 2 ½
By Sheffield
"Homeroom December 1st 1979
Dear Soldier
I'm a pacifist and I don't believe in soldiers but Mrs Henderson (she's our
teacher) says we all have to write letters to you anyway, because it's
Christmas and you're all a long way from home defending us. And she's
right, because you're people too, even if you are soldiers, so Happy
Holidays anyway.
I asked Mrs Henderson what you were defending us from and she said Russia
but I don't think that's a good idea. The Russians have got lots of nukes
but we've got more and my mom is in CND and says we ought to set an example
and not have nukes any more and then the Russians wouldn't need them either.
So if the Russians are being annoying, don't defend us against them too
hard, OK, because I think I'd rather speak Russian and eat yukky things like
beetroot than have all the people and all the animals die, which is what
would happen if we nuked Russia and they nuked us. And anyway, maybe the
Russians would like to speak English and eat hamburgers like us, only I
don't eat hamburgers because of being vegetarian. But I still won't eat
beets.
So Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah, have a good Kwanzaa, enjoy Yule and
Happy New Year. Don't get killed, OK? This is a picture of my house, only
it's not my house it belongs to Thomas and my mom and me are staying with
him just now which is why I have to have Mrs Henderson as my teacher, but
next year we might move on. Maybe she's not so bad. But if you write back,
write to Mrs Henderson in case I'm not here, OK?
Yours faithfully
Blair Sandburg aged 7"
"What you got there, Jackson?"
"One of those kids' letters that came yesterday; some class project. This
one's from some little pacifist vegetarian punk who disapproves of
soldiers - but he doesn't want me to get killed OK?"
His friend laughed. "Big of him. Come on, time's a-wasting, how about a
little one on one?"
Jackson balled up the kid's letter and threw it overhand at the trash
basket. "He shoots, he scores!"
Lieutenant James Ellison, 19 years old, frowned slightly. "Weren't we
supposed to answer those if we took one?"
"Hey, kid told me not to get dead. Am I dead? There's his answer. Come
on, Ellison, I'm going to kick your butt."
Ellison's hand twitched, slightly, as he passed by the trash can but the sun
was shining, and the basketball court was waiting, and some pacifist
vegetarian punk could wait. Couldn't he?