We pulled up to the country store to buy a soda pop. We were hankerin’ for an Orange Crush, before our final stop.

Our yearly trips to Utah caused my yearn to pen and write about our horse camp outings, cooking under stars at night.

My wife and I went shopping at the local hardware store. We paced the isles but could not find what we were looking for.

I rolled out of my sleeping bag. ‘Twas dang near eight o’clock. My tent was by the campfire and I’d slept hard, like a rock.

The year was 1942. He’d barely turned eighteen. The February snowdrifts were like none he’d ever seen.

We pulled up to the country store to buy a soda pop. We were hankerin’ for an Orange Crush, before our final stop.

The year was 1942. He’d barely turned eighteen. The February snowdrifts were like none he’d ever seen.