A car passed them and the driver leaned out to shout, “See what has happened to your damned German alliance now!” His words fell on them like shrapnel, meant to wound. The men blinked and looked at each other.

“Who is that?” someone asked.

“Silas Treet,” Jivan answered. “Proprietor of the Fredonia News. He doesn’t know we fought on the side of the British and Americans.”

THEY RECEIVED LETTERS from Amarjeet telling of being billeted in a French home and marching and drilling with his platoon. The army bought them tickets to shows, organized ball games, taught them auto repair and accounting. Grateful French drank with them in the taverns and cafés and brothels and introduced them to daughters of marriageable age. They think, Amarjeet wrote, we have saved the world for democracy. At home, the families waited for their return.

Finally, in February, the Singhs and Moriyamas received letters from Washington officials, stating that their young men would soon return. They would board a ship in Le Havre. They would disembark in New Jersey thirteen days later.

The afternoon the letter arrived, the Moriyamas had just finished hauling the last of the strawberry harvest to the shippers. When Tomoya read the letter to his wife, their exhaustion disappeared. Hatsu sat on her bed and wept, her hands covering her face, her body convulsing. Her husband sat by her, his own eyes brimming with tears. Their older daughter had married and moved away years ago. The younger had done the same after Harry left; it had been only the two of them for years.

After they recovered, they telephoned several other Japanese families in the Valley to tell of the good news. The Singhs had just purchased a telephone, and Tomoya called Jivan too. Had they received the same letter regarding Amarjeet? Was he coming home on the same ship as their son? Yes, Jivan replied to both questions. The men laughed, euphoric, relieved. The feeling carried like static over the phone line. Harry had mentioned Amarjeet in every letter. The boys had been true companions throughout. While the boys served together, the friendship between families had grown stronger too.

By late afternoon, Tomoya and Hatsu arrived at Jivan Singh’s home. Hatsu stumbled as she stepped up to the porch, and Kishen laughed with her, and although they had never done it before, the women embraced, as if they had always lived in the west. They entered the house and Tomoya stayed on the back porch with the men.

Karak poured Tomoya a whiskey. The men talked of what the military had done since the fighting had ended, how the American Expeditionary Forces had been flung all over the world. How Harry was being awarded a medal for his courage in battle.