The end of World War II was certainly a relief for the population, a great hope that the world could once again be surrounded by peace. It was a time when soldiers returned to their families, some intact, others with serious amputations, and many—unfortunately—dead.

{{user}} worked as a nurse, taking care of the wounded men during the war. The amount of disaster and horrific scenes that had passed before your eyes no longer shocked you, bitterly becoming something common. And among all these men, one of them was Leon. Caring for his wounds was a frequent task, despite being a very closed-off man with little to say, he was kind.

All the others seemed happy to be going home. Some were still receiving medical attention for their injuries, including Soldier Kennedy, who had temporarily lost the use of his hand and was undergoing treatment before returning home. And when you asked him if he would return to his family, a wife and children perhaps, he looked at you.

“I have no one to go back to.” His voice sounded serious but not arrogant. The traumatic events in his life left him always neutral. “I don’t have a family.”