It had been a perfect day for playing tennis. The air was a crisp 65 degrees. The Orlando sky was bright blue with a few stray clouds just hanging around. From a nearby tree, a large flock of blackbirds sudddenly soared from their branch perches and rose caw-cawing across the nearby lake. Four players, myself as one, were cooling down after three hours of double play and were sitting on green plastic chairs located next to the court. After a while our conversation turned to the recently televised Academy Awards. One player hadn't seen the winning film, SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE. Since he was a hard-right conservative, we jokingly warned him not to see that film as it contained a socially conscious theme! We all, however, had seen THE READER. "I never thought I would feel sympathetic towards a Nazi guardhous jailer," I said, "but that picture brought tears to my eyes." Player K.H. wanted to know why the woman guard didn't allow the prisoners to escape from their burning building. "Because," said J.T., "she would have been shot on the spot!" "Well, war is certainly hell," exclaimed K.H. "You never know what you will be called on to do in a war situation," replied J.T. "I remember one time during World War Two when our airplane became separated from the group and our pilot, to save gas for our damaged plane in order to get back to our home field, decided to lighten the load by dropping our bombs. We had orders never to drop bombs on enemy churches. Our pilot spotted a village below that did not seem to have a church nearby and dropped his bombs on that target. I guess it was not the moral thing to do, but at the time, morality was a sentiment that we lacked!" Everyone was quiet for a moment after that story. Finally, K.H. spoke up, "I was studying in Germany to be an electronic engineer. I had been attending this school for only two months when an American bomber dropped a bomb on my school and destroyed it and my ambitions. I was drafted into the army." I could see J.T.'s head droop. He stared at his feet for a few seconds then asked: "Are you sure it was an American plane?" "Yes," said K.H.,"Russians bombed only at night. Americans always bombed during the day!" J.T. didn't say anything but later he told me that it was his group, stationed in Italy, that had done the bombing on K.H.'s town. "Was it your plane, that dropped the bomb on K's school?" I asked. "I don't know...I don't know," J.T. answered, "and that's what makes war so hellish. You never know the real damage you are doing!" I couldn't help but dwell on the coincidence of two former enemies playing a peaceful game of tennis in Florida!
