by: Marty Chrisman

It was the Fourth of July in Hazzard County and Luke had been home a little over a month. As usual, the Duke family had gone to town to celebrate the holiday. There were several events and activities going on in the town square, various contests, a large flea market, concession stands, and entertainment throughout the day. The festivities would conclude that night with a huge fireworks display at the fair grounds.

For the first time since he’d come home, Luke seemed to be enjoying himself and having a good time. He socialized with old friends and flirted with all the pretty girls. He even entered the axe throwing contest and won. He seemed relaxed and more like himself again, not as tense or on edge. Jesse hoped that his behavior that day meant that he was getting better and adjusting to be being back home again.

When it started to get dark, the Duke went to the fairgrounds along with the rest of the town to watch the fireworks. They found a place to sit and spread out the blanket that Daisy had brought for them to sit on. They all made themselves comfortable and waited for the show to begin. As soon as it was dark enough, the fireworks started with the flashing flares of shining color and loud bangs and explosions. Suddenly, Luke bounced to his feet and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

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by: Marty Chrisman

Jesse heard the sound of someone moving around downstairs. He sighed softly. He knew even without getting up that it was Luke. He was worried about his oldest nephew. He hadn’t been sleeping more than a couple of hours a night ever since he came home. Jesse knew that he was having nightmares. Bo had told Jesse that he’d heard Luke talking in his sleep and had awakened him a few times when the dreams seemed really bad. But so far Luke had refused to talk to anyone about the dreams.

Jesse didn’t want to push Luke but he didn’t want to see him suffer either. He had already suffered enough. Finally, Jesse shoved himself to his feet and went downstairs. Luke was sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of coffee. There were dark circles under the young man’s eyes and his face was drawn and tired. It was obvious that he needed a good night’s sleep. “Can’t sleep again?” Jesse asked, as he poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at the table beside his nephew.

“No…” Luke said, lowering his eyes and avoiding his Uncle’s gaze.

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by: Marty Chrisman

Luke stared out of the window of the bus as it crossed the state line into Georgia. He couldn’t believe that he was finally on his way home. After two weeks in the military hospital in Saigon, he was strong enough to be discharged and go home. That had been a week ago and soon he would be back in Hazzard and with his family. His leg was still healing and he still needed crutches to get around. He’d called the farm from the bus stop in Nashville and told Uncle Jesse when to expect him. His excitement and anticipation grew with each passing mile especially once familiar landmarks started coming in sight. It was 3 P.M. when the bus finally arrived in Hazzard. Luke slowly eased himself to his feet and carefully grabbed his crutches. A fellow passenger helped him get his duffle bag down from the overhead compartment and offered to carry it off of the bus for him. Luke accepted his offer gratefully and carefully made his way down the aisle to the front of the bus and then down the steps to the street.

He saw Uncle Jesse immediately. He hadn’t changed much except his hair and beard was a little whiter. His blue eyes still sparkled with life and his lined face broke into a broad smile when he saw his oldest nephew step down from the bus. Four months ago, they had been told that Luke was M.I.A. and presumed dead and they had grieved. Then a little over a week ago they had learned that he’d actually been a P.O.W. but had been rescued and was in a hospital in Saigon. Jesse rushed forward as Luke’s fellow passenger sat down the duffle bag at Luke’s side and walked away. Jesse immediately reached out and took Luke into his arms as he thanked god for sending Luke back to them alive. Without shame, he let the tears leak from his eyes at his relief to finally have Luke home again.

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by: Marty Chrisman

Luke forced his eyes open just long enough to look around. It took a few minutes for his eyes to focus and for his fuzzy brain to register the fact that he was in a military hospital. He’d made it, somehow he had made it. He had survived that hell hole of a prison camp. He let his eyes close, drifting back into a deeply drugged sleep.

The next time he regained consciousness it was because he felt a prick in the back of his left hand as someone changed his IV. “Owww….” He muttered, opening his eyes and startling the pretty blonde nurse who was working on his IV.

“Well, hello there, blue eyes.” She said with a grin “Glad to see you finally decided to wake up. You remember me?”

“You were on the chopper.” Luke said his voice hoarse from disuse.

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by: Marty Chrisman

Luke was sitting in the corner with Billy Jo sitting beside him. Luke hadn’t spoken since the last round of torture by the guards and Billy Jo was starting to get worried. Billy noticed the various wounds on Luke’s body, bruises and cuts, lacerations and abrasions. There was also a wicked looking eight inch gash on his left leg that looked like it was badly infected. When their food bowls came, Billy tried to hand Luke his bowl but he brushed it aside. “Come on, Sarge….ya gotta eat.” Billy said coaxing Luke to at least try.

Luke could hear Billy Jo, he just refused to respond. He was convinced that he was going to die here in this place and that there was nothing he could do about that. He knew that his battered body couldn’t take much more abuse and that the next round of torture could be all it took to kill him. Luke didn’t think that it would matter much if he ate or not under the circumstances. He didn’t want to die but it wasn’t up to him, it was up to God and if God chose to let him die here in this place then there had to a reason. He closed his eyes and let himself go home again.

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