Colonel Mason found him there. “You ready, Sergeant?”
“Never was much for speeches,” Walter said.
“Then just tell the truth,” Mason replied. “That’s all people need to hear.”
When his name was called, the applause rolled like thunder. Walter stepped onto the stage, the sound washing over him like surf. He looked out—rows of uniforms, faces young and old, some smiling, some crying.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t know much about being a hero,” he began. “I only know about being hungry—hungry for food, for hope, for someone to notice.”
He paused. “I once thought the country had forgotten me. But I was wrong. Sometimes the world just takes a while to catch up to kindness.”
He glanced at the flag rippling behind him. “When I was a soldier, we had a rule: you never leave anyone behind. Not on the battlefield, not on the streets, not anywhere. That rule doesn’t stop when the war ends.”
