Six minutes to six, said the clock over the information booth in New York's Grand Central Station. The tall young Army lieutenant1 lifted his sunburned face and narrowed his eyes to note the exact time. His heart was pounding with a beat. In six minutes he would see the woman who had filled such a special place in his life for the past 13 month, the woman he had never seen, yet whose written words had sustained him unfailingly.
Lieutenant Blandford remembered one day in particular, during the worst of the fighting, when his plane had been caught in the midst of a pack of enemy's planes. In one of his letters he had confessed to her that he often felt fear, and only a few days before this battle he had received her answer: "Of course you fear…all brave men do. Next time you doubt yourself, I want you to hear my voice reciting to you: 'yeah, though I walked through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will hear no evil: for thou art with me.'…" He had remembered, and it had renewed his strength.
Now he was going to hear her real voice. Four minutes to six.
A girl passed close to him, and Lieutenant Blandford started. She was wearing a flower, but it was not the little red rose they had agreed upon. Besides, this girl was only abo
