On Thomas’s seventeenth birthday, he pooled his dockworker’s earnings with his and James’s army wages and purchased his own boat. It was a small, battered vessel, but it was sturdy and had weathered many seasons on the Channel. Thomas hoped with some repairs it would weather several more.

It took months to ready the boat, but two years after the armistice was signed, Sullivan Brothers Shipping was ready to launch.

“That should do it,” Charlie said, putting a last stroke of red paint on the stern of the boat. “What do you think?”

The lettering matched perfectly with the company name painted in blue on the starboard side. “It looks great,” Thomas said, smiling at Charlie’s work.

A pleased blush tinted Charlie’s cheeks. “You like it?”

“You did a fine job, son,” Mr. Sullivan said, resting a reassuring hand on Charlie’s shoulder.

Charlie’s blush deepened. “Thank you, sir.”

A gust of November wind swept across the Channel. Mr. Sullivan blew into his cupped hands for warmth and then rubbed them together. “You boys couldn’t have planned to christen this boat in July?”

Ignoring the aching cold in his own hands, Thomas tightened the ropes mooring his boat to the dock. “If the Germans had surrendered earlier, we might have, but they didn’t, so it had to be today.” He glanced up at Charlie. “Two years from the day the war ended.”

Charlie smiled.

As they waited for the paint to dry, Charlie’s little brother, Henry, ran up the dock with Letitia, Charlotte, and Max trailing behind him. “We did it!” he exclaimed, pride spreading in a wide smile across his freckled face. “We passed out every flyer.”

“Well done,” Mr. Sullivan said, patting the boy’s head.

Thomas smiled. He’d been shocked to find Charlie and Henry on his doorstep a month after Frederick and Charlie had been discharged from the army. After Charlie explained that their father had been killed in a bar fight, the Sullivans had welcomed the brothers into their home without hesitation. Charlie found a job at St. Paul’s, where Father Clark taught him to read and write in exchange for help around the church, including painting, which Charlie loved. Two years later, it was as though Charlie and Henry had always been part of their family.

“Look who I found,” Mrs. Sullivan yelled from the end of the dock. Max let out an excited bark, scurried down the dock, and leaped into the waiting arms of a soldier with glasses and tidy black hair. A distinguished looking gentleman with a receding hairline and neatly trimmed gray mustache stood beside him.

“Max!” Frederick exclaimed, petting the terrier. Max licked his face, jumped down, ran two circles around his legs, and then sprinted back to Thomas.

“You made it!” Thomas said, striding forward to shake Frederick’s hand.

“Thomas, may I introduce my father, General Theodore Chamberlain?”

Thomas saluted General Chamberlain. “It is an honor to meet you, sir.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Thomas,” Frederick’s father said. “My son has told me a great deal about you and your family.”