For several days after my encounter with the old man in the Mauser, I couldn't even look at the rifles in my collection. Whenever I went into my gun room, I had a strange feeling... sort of like being in a church, or a museum. A place full of things you don't understand. On the fifth night, just before my normal bedtime, I summoned up enough courage to sit in the gun room for a while, thinking about what I had experienced with the old man, and whether or not I wanted to try to see him again. You have to understand... experiencing everything associated with being killed in battle... twice in about fifteen to twenty seconds... will shake you to your soul. It's not like going to a movie or watching a home video... I was there! I was cold... I was wet... I was scared... I was killed! I didn't know if I really was up to going through that again. I decided to think about it some more, and went to bed.
After a couple more days, I decided to try to see the old man again. Got out the old Turk, and just sat there holding it... looking at it... getting up my nerve. Got out the BLO, and started to rub down the stock on the old warrior. Nothing happened. I rubbed that stock for two hours. Nothing. The stock was looking really nice. But no old man. Disappointed, I went to bed. Tried again the next night.... and the next. Nothing. Had I been dreaming? Had I imagined it all? I was ready to give up. I decided that I would try one more time. That was last night. He came back.

It was a pleasant evening, the temp and humidity had dropped down a good bit, so I stayed outside 'till dark, cutting the grass down by the pond. Hard work. Dragging the lawnmower up and down those steep banks is tough!. I was hot and tired when I came in. Got cleaned up, ate dinner, and went to the gun room. After about a half hour of rubbing the old Turk's stock, he appeared.
"Good evening" he said.
"Hello Ajjiberon".
"Where have you been?" he asked.
"What do you mean, where have I been!? I've been trying to see you!".
"No you haven't" he said..."your spirit was wrong".
"Spirit was wrong?".
"Yes, you were looking for me, but didn't want to find me. Tonight, you wanted to find me, and I am here. What do you want?" he asked.
"I want... I... I don't know... I just... I don't know".
"When you decide what you want me for, call me back out.... goodnight" he said.
"NO! WAIT!".
"Yes...?"
"I... I..... I have some questions."
"O.K..... what questions?" he asked.
"Who are you?"
"I told you.... I am Ajjiberon".
"I know that... I mean... WHO... or what... are you?" I asked.
"I am the Battle Spirit of your Mauser".
"Battle Spirit?"
"Yes, I am a Battle Spirit. All weapons have a spirit, and I am the one in your Mauser" he said. "Through us, the heroic deeds of men in battle, the lives given... the conflicts fought... are never forgotten... they live on in the weapons of war they used to fight their battles. Are you ready to see more?" he asked.
"Yes... I think so...".
"Which one of us would you like to experience?" he asked.
"How about the P-38?" I said casually.
"AAGGHHHH!" I screamed. I was about 1000 feet in the air... looking down between my feet at a battle raging on rocky, hilly ground. I was a German paratrooper. From Berlin. Jumping into Crete during the invasion of May 20th, 1941. I didn't have a rifle... only my P-38. Four grenades. And a knife. I didn't like jumping without a rifle. I felt naked without it. The wind whistled by my ears and tried to pull the helmet off my head. I looked around. Parachutes filled the sky. I know that two of every three parachutes carry weapons containers. I have to find one and get a rifle and ammo so I can fight the British. I look down at the battle below...rushing up to meet me...I see other paratroops land...and die. They all are dying ....there is the metallic taste of fear in my mouth... I see a machine gun nest about halfway up the side of a rocky hill...three men...I am coming in from above and behind them...it looks like I will land on top of it!! I pull my pistol....the ground is coming faster and faster! They don't see me..I am still a hundred meters away...I pull my spare magazine from its' pouch...hold it in my left hand....75 meters...I take aim...50 meters...moving so fast!...hard to aim! I start to shoot....Bang! Bang!Bang! Bang! The fourth round hits the ammo carrier, and he falls on the machinegunner, pushing him to his right....I continue to fire until the mag is empty.... release the mag and reload... so fast!..firing again. The belt feeder turns and draws a Webly... the machine gunner is hit by one of my bullets .... goes down on one knee... the Brit with the Webly fires....I'm out of ammo!. 15 meters...He keeps shooting....I can't do anything!!! I feel something slap my left cheekbone...feel blood running down my face...no pain.
Without thinking I reholster my pistol.
As I swiftly glide over the gun emplacement, I see the ammo feeder reaching for his Enfield... he's only ten feet below me! I move quickly past him... look up just in time to see a small pine tree of some sort just before I hit it. I grab and hang on....my chute slides past...still filled with air ...I try to collapse the chute...It snatches me from the tree and I fall to the rocks below. AUGHHH.. That hurts like hell!! I'm dragged downhill through the rocks and brush...seems like every rock on this island is in my way! Ughhh! I am slammed against a larger rock....my chute collapses...I try to get out of my jump harness, but my right arm is hanging limply at my side...with my left hand I pull my knife and cut the harness free...I notice movement to my left....it's the ammo feeder! He's only a few feet away! He has his Enfield aimed at my chest...I have no chance to escape...I raise my arms to surrender...my right arm doesn't move...he sees my knife! He thinks I'm attacking him! I see the fear in his eyes ...he fires. I feel nothing...he fires again...I look down at two dark spots on my tunic... I look up at him...drop to my knees...
"Get out of my way!"
"Huh?"
"I said, get out of my way!"
"What's wrong?"
It was my wife.
"You've made a mess, fallen asleep in here again, and I want to clean it up before I go to bed!"
"What in the world are you talking about?" I asked...a little groggy...I looked down at the old Turk...he was gone. I stood up. I was very sore and stiff.
"This mess!" she said...."Just look at it! Where did all of this stuff come from?"
I looked down.
Pine needles and little rocks were scattered all over the floor around my chair.....

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