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Kapitan Kemp’s Diary

An Easter interlude …

This story has two connections … The first is the idea for the setting which came from a contribution in a WW2 official government publication; “As You Were” … one of many such publications put out during and after the second world war from the Australian military … The writer was T.G.Hungerford … the article was “Last Entry in Red” (As You Were; 1950). I have shifted the setting for the tale to the retreating German army and the Russian front.

The second connection is from a story told to me by an acquaintance many years ago about her father and his best friend, who signed onto the Czechoslovakian resistance in the 2nd WW as sixteen year old boys … the incident described in the story below about the young boys happened to the father.

It went like this …

Kapitan Kemp’s Diary

My name is David Groetz, I am a teacher of German at the college. A week ago my neighbour at the units where I live stopped me outside my door as I came home from work.

“Ah, Mr Groetz!” He touched my sleeve.

“Yes?”, I didn’t remember his name.

“Mr Groetz … excuse me … I have a little problem … a bit of translating I would ask you to do … seeing as it’s in your line of work, so to speak.”

He was an old man so I obliged him to look at the “bit of translating”.

“You see,” he commenced as he handed me a slim note-book, very old and rather damaged. “It is from the war … yes … I took it from the hand of a soldier that I had shot … yes … in an attack of course.” he hastened to reassure me “I was with the advancing Russian army chasing the Nazi retreat.” he explained.

I eyed him wearily. I wasn’t keen to get caught up in another war epic, so I sighed and placed the slim note-pad on the table while I prepared a coffee in my unit to which we had both adjourned.

“Why do you wish to translate it?” I asked.

“Curiosity” … the old man shrugged, “that is all … curiosity and … I am growing old and a small thing puzzles me about the soldier I took that note-book from.”

“You are puzzled by a dead man after all these years” I gazed at him quizzically.

“Yes … I tell you … ”

He sat and clasped his hands together in front of him on the table.

“I was a corporal with the Soviet army and we were chasing the German retreat out of Russia. Myself and my platoon advanced upon this post, an old foresters hut within a clearing in the forest. As we crept up to it, one of the sentries gave a cry and we attacked with grenades … I came in from the left flank and took up a position behind a thick stump of a tree Just as I did so, this soldier, the Kapitan, ran out of the door close to me and turned away from me.

“Stoi !” I yelled … “Halt!” but he just looked at me, turned away and ran … now this is the queer thing … he ran not to cover, but rather to the centre of the clearing, out in the open!”

“Halt” I shouted again but he kept running toward the centre of the clearing, so I opened fire and he stumbled but kept on going forward the most … most sad, hopeless expression on his face and finally he fell, almost relieved, I couldn’t help but think, into this sward of … of “fialki” we call them … white violets … and as I ran up to him I saw that he, with his last strength, sort of embrace an armful of these violets and as I stood over him I heard him murmur with his dying breath, “Liebling … mien liebling.” I took this note-book from his hand there and then … I have always wondered if that captain was mad or if there is a clue in the note-pad, for he had no gun on him, only that book … and he looked so very determined when he ran toward those violets.”

I raised my eyebrows appropriately at my neighbour’s story and said very well, I will look at it and translate that which is readable.

“I know it seems a trivial thing … yes … but … I am an old man now,” he sighed as he passed through the door “and I feel I must know about that captain and the answer, maybe is in that book.”

The writing in the note-pad was very faded, in most places illegible. But I thumbed through it just to satisfy my neighbour. It was toward the last few pages of transcript that I found a reference to the flowers that the captain had died in. I translated those last few pages for the old man so:

From Kapitan Kemp’s Diary


Violets!, violets! can you imagine that mein liebling, violets as pure as the snow they break through! who would have thought this cursed Russian countryside could produce something so beautiful. They reminded me immediately of you my dear, after all, you share their name: “Viola” – violets. I say your name to myself so as to relish your memory and hope for the time when I will see you again … perhaps now that the flowers have bloomed maybe spring is here enough for us to get out of this place. The men are of high morale considering the circumstances … I have my orders to hold the ground at all costs and to remain until further orders come through. It is not Berlin here … but …


Things must be moving fast at the front which is god knows where by now. At night the sky is a veritable bonfire. The men are jumpy, but on the whole, disciplined, although Sergeant Richter reported some rations missing, he suspects one of the two young boys (Klaus and Dieter) of taking them. He wants them disciplined, but I have my doubts it is they at all. I will look into it, I tell him and he grudgingly dismissed himself. I worry about Richter, he always seems to find trouble among the men.

We have four peasant soldiers in the unit and they are a very morose lot, they say they can feel death approaching … fools … they call death: HE. “He’s around about”, one of them would say mysteriously nodding his woolly head or, “He’s coming for sure”, when we’d get a barrage of artillery. I had to command them to “shut-up” that kind of talk. Just then some artillery howled away over-head toward the distance:

“Those’ll be ours” I lied to boost their morale, but the sergeant just looked at me strangely so I said, “eh, sergeant?”

“Yes”, he replied quietly, “ours … yes sir,” but I don’t think the men really believed me.

The violets are springing up in a big patch in the middle of the clearing … they look truly wonderful … like the terrace garden in that little park at the end of our street … Ach! that I could be there with you now. Dieter and Klaus couldn’t have stolen the rations, they are too simple, too honest both with me and with each other, like twins, mere boys … maybe sixteen, no more than …


Enemy snipers have moved forward, one of our peasant soldiers shot dead yesterday, means their front is approaching, still no word from H.Q. The men are nervous, it’s the waiting, waiting that gets at them, at me too, not sleeping much at all. A message from Post 12 on my left flank half a kilometer away they are getting short of supplies, could I afford to send a few? Am getting low ourselves, can’t get to the bottom of this thieving business … have secretly assigned corporal Schmidt to observe the store surreptitiously night and day! Sent what food I could spare back with the messenger … shouldn’t weigh him down in the snow!

Every evening I am going over to the patch of violets … “the Kapitans’ flowers”, I have heard the men giggle behind my back, but I don’t mind, indeed it is just that … my violets … my Viola! I go there and kneel next to them on one knee and slowly sweep my hand through … they are so soft and yielding … tonight as I was there thinking of you my darling, one of the young boys … Klaus … came and stood behind me and addressed me so that I almost got a fright, but I kept my balance.

“Sir,” he called softly (I think he respects my solitude … he is a good boy).

“Yes”, I replied without turning.

“The men were wondering if they … we, could have permission to tune in to a home broadcast tonight … Sir.”

He stood rigid to attention there … those others must have sent him as they know I have a soft spot for the “children” as I call them sometimes. Ordinarily I would never permit such a thing, the ordeal would be too upsetting, hearing songs and talk from back home while stuck here at the front. but tonight for some reason I acquiesced.

Tonight I feel for the first time I will never see you again … forgive me this cowardice.


What a cursed day! That bloody radio program last night did just as I suspected it would; it upset the whole camp, it was all I could do to call the men to order this morning. It started out alright, with a bit of news and a few “bar room” songs that had the men stomping their feet and singing along, I even wished I had a few steins of beer to give out … and a few buxom barmaids to serve them!! But then after a pause in the music for a bit of talk, a new song came over. The woman singing, I have to admit had, if not a wonderful voice, a voice very coaxing, very gentle, almost caressing tone about her, and the words and music crept deep into my mind, my heart, and the men quieted down with that song and no-one looked to each other anymore, they all gazed down at the little fire we have in the middle of the floor.

Oh! her voice, it was like yours my love, like yours, like my mothers, like … like … all the women I have heard … like home … ya, like home … maybe soon eh?.

Corporal Schmidt reported on who is stealing the supplies. He noticed the soldier creep quietly out from the sing-along with the radio and go outside … he followed him and saw him take a portion of the rations to a hiding place just away a bit in the woods. The thief is Sergeant Richter! Yes, surprise, surprise, although he has the eyes for it. And he would have seen the young boys punished for it! A cruel man. I shall have to deal with him soon.

More Violets! Yes even more. I think of that song the woman sung last night: “My legs grow strong, My pack is light!” Yes, my heart too is light at the mere thought of you, Viola, are you waiting for me like Lili Marlene? .


Things go from bad to worse. No sleep at all last night. Although same could be said for most of this week. I am at my wit’s end, and the men feel it. Still no orders from HQ. … is there still a HQ.? … are we forgotten here? … But must stay … only cowards and the stupid desert their posts. And seeing as I’m not about to become a fool, and I pray God for courage, I shall stay, but feel now there is little hope. The war seems all around us, the night is forever ablaze! Shall I ever touch your soft skin again as I touch the violets Will you ever yield to my love as do the violets to my hand? I day-dream often of my family, but then wince away the memory, for I have my duty here although my heart has already fled away.

Sadness, waste. Dieter is dead. Sent a patrol out to scout for the enemy front and they were ambushed. Dieter was shot in the stomach and fell screaming at Klaus’s feet. Sergeant Richter tried to get Klaus to take cover but he would not leave Dieters side. They returned in an awful state with a few others minor wounded.

“I told him Captain,” Richter explained. “We must go … we have to leave him, we are under fire! But he would not leave his side, bloody fool could’ve got us all killed … ya … ya. I know Dieter wasn’t dead, but we couldn’t carry him in his condition and we couldn’t stay.”

“Well, what did you do?” I asked

“Me? … Nothing … not I, sir.” Richter shrugged, and then turned his gaze slowly to the boy … god, only a boy. “He did it” Richter said softly.

“Did what?” I demanded fiercely.

Richter just put his index finger slowly to his, temple and made a gesture with his thumb. Klaus just stood there in shock … only a god-damned boy …

“With his rifle?” I asked.

“Nien … Sir … ” Richter wet his lips “I gave him my Luger.”

I looked at Klaus just standing there, a boy, they send us mere boys to be brutalised so … I lost my temper at the futility of it all and grabbed Richter by the throat and thrust him against the wall.

“You … you made the boy do what you … a grown man … an experienced soldier and commander should have done” I was speechless with rage … “You made him kill his friend while you looked on … lent him your Luger … lent – him – your – bloody – Luger! … his best friend for gods sake! … ” and I shook him and shook him and I think I might have throttled him if I had not heard a sobbing sound coming from Klaus that caught my anger and brought me around. I let go of the sergeant slowly and turned to look at Klaus who was standing loosely to attention and his shoulders shaking and trying his hardest not to cry … The boys had signed up together … just a boy …

“We had to go, Captain … ” the sergeant continued, still fallen against the boxes where I had pushed him. “We had to go … and besides,Sir … besides .. he too is … is now … a soldier … Sir.”

I turned quickly to address this thief, but words would not come to my mouth. I dismissed him to get him out of my sight. Klaus I kept a while longer.

I did not go tonight to the violets.


All is over, I can hear small arms fire out at the enemy front and to my left flank, presumably the other post I sent the food to. Speaking of which, I finally dealt with Sergeant Richter. I discover from one of the men that he was going to desert us and also that he had been selling our scarce rations for money for this adventure. I could have shot him myself, but this would have unnerved the men so I wrote a dispatch to the commander of the post on my left flank:

“Commander, the man who delivers this dispatch to you is named Sergeant Richter. He is a liar, a thief and a coward. Execute him immediately” … I signed it; “Captain Kemp.” and I put my official seal on the envelope. I called Sergeant Richter.

“Here, sergeant.” I kept my face stony, but it was giving me pleasure, though I hate to admit it.

“Take this dispatch to the commander of post 12. See that he receives it personally.”

“But, sir.” He shifted his feet anxiously. “It is getting toward evening” he cowered. I raised my eyebrow.

“What I mean Sir.” he shifted ground. “Seeing as it’s getting dark and it will be night by the time I turn around to come back … would it be alright for me to stay there the night?” I laughed to myself cruelly … I laughed;

“Why, yes … yes sergeant … you will stay there the night.” and I saluted him off.

As I write this I am becoming more and more sure we have been forgotten by H.Q. and I am almost of the opinion that we should pull back toward our own lines. Yes! I feel certain of it as I write this. Indeed, I will finish this entry then give the order to abandon post! Yes mein liebling, soon now I will come home to you, I promise. I will be there in time for the spring and together we will touch the violets, and maybe also then you will yield to my love … All I now ask is to have the chance to see you again, just for the joy, please God, please, plea … ”

End of diary.

(translator – Groetz)

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  1. Barry Thompson.

    I enjoyed that Joseph. You rarely let me down.
    Thank you and keep them coming.

  2. Joseph Carli

    Thank you , Barry….I’ll take that “rarely” to the bank!… 🙂

  3. John Lavery

    I also liked that story, Joseph, I sounded just right. thank you.

  4. Alcibiades

    Kapitan Kemp by his own hand, his diary, was derelict, incompetent, ineffective & for his men, dangerously self absorbed.

    Kapitan Kemp was aware discipline was poor, morale low, and SGT Richter was disliked & ineffective as an NCO. Yet did nothing.

    Kapitan Kemp ridiculed his NCO in front of a private soldier, destructive of discipline, good order, trust & command authority. Yet failed to authoritatively discipline or punish the Sgt re his ambiguous conduct.

    Kapitan Kemp failed to test the allegation of the Corporal against his disliked(?) Sgt. No charges, no field hearing or field courts martial. Instead the untested allegation was accepted as fact & in abrogation of command responsibility, essentially summarily executed an NCO, in the most deceitful manner, by proxy. Kemp took pleasure in his cowardly, irresponsible & frankly criminal conduct.

    If Kapitan Kemp truly believed his Sgt was planning to desert then by sending him alone to the flanking post he provided Richter with the perfect opportunity to do precisely that. Desert.

    Kapitan Kemp betrayed his Honour, Oath of service, Duty & responsibilities as a Commissioned Officer & Officer Commanding of his unit in essentially ultimately deserting his unit & his men in the midst of battle, to their fate, in an act of self absorbed deliberate suicide. He failed to fulfill his duty to his men to command or effectively lead his men in defence, or a retreat if certain of imminent defeat, or alternately even negotiate terms of surrender. He selfishly abandoned his men utterly, to immediate death or capture & a probable languishing death due forced labour in a Gulag.

    Kapitan Kemp is, IMHO, unworthy of praise.

  5. Joseph Carli

    Alicibades….you have discovered….through your coarse, crude, cynical and vicious journey into the failings of an officer and a soldier…the heart of the human……congratulations…I for one never would have believed you could get there.

  6. Kaye Lee

    Why on earth would you personally attack someone who is just discussing what the plot line of your story meant to him? Isn’t that what people are supposed to do when discussing a fictional story? Character analysis should be confined to the characters.

  7. Alcibiades

    Dear Joseph,
    Why allow comment, informed & knowledgeable, re the actual contents of your piece if your only response, is vicious ad hominem ? Does one need to quote Army Regulations or appropriate applicable Military Law ?

    There is nothing coarse, crude, cynical nor vicious regarding an objective & factual observation of multiple counts of dereliction of duty re ultimate responsibility to the mens lives & welfare entrusted to Kemps care & a clear denial of natural justice & due process, & abuse of power & authority, resulting in egregious criminal conduct in wartime.

    In Australian military culture & in fact definitions, a commissioned officer, is only ever an officer, never a soldier. Only a non commissioned officer or enlisted man/woman can ever be a soldier, dear Joseph.

    As for your apparent perceived naive romanticism of such disreputable & dishonourable conduct, combined with your serial ad hominem, one is entirely unsurprised you would purposely & deliberately respond as you have. Congratulations are due to you for sticking to form.

    As for incredibly personally insulting intentional puerile assertion re discovering the heart of a human re your, disbelief ? Do grow up & at least try to make a feeble attempt to get out of the gutter, even at your age, hm ?

    Was your fictional re-imagined Kapitan Kemp on the Eastern Front an Italian Blackshirt Fascist volunteer in the Wermacht ?

    As ANZAC Remembrance Day approaches, and 13,000 Australian WWII veterans have passed on in the last financial year alone, their stories, experiences & hard fought wisdom & insights lost forever, untold, why utterly butcher an Australian story from the AWM, by translating it into Krauts, Russkies & FGS, ‘peasants’ on the Eastern front ?

    Queue further ad hominem …

  8. Joseph Carli

    Kaye Lee and Alcibiades…..The “Padrone” and one of her “Lieutenants”….

  9. Kaye Lee

    Joseph, I don’t need backup and I most certainly do not control what anyone else says. Must we really do this again?

    Lots of people enjoy your stories. Try to read comments without feeling personally insulted when no insult was given or intended. It is ok to view characters differently.

  10. Kaye Lee

    I do want to try to explain.

    Joe, the things you write about are perhaps influenced by experiences in your life. But how a reader interprets is likewise influenced by their experiences.

  11. Barry Thompson.

    It was just a short story. No need for the psycho analysis.
    Not only Joseph should steady up Michael.

  12. Kronomex

    Everyone perceives a story, novel, play, whatever, in a different way and that way may not be what the author expected. The writer MUST be magnanimous enough to take that on board and not as Joseph has done on more than one occasion descend to attacking (and resorting to petty name calling) people who take the time to read and put forward their views on what the story meant to them.

  13. Joseph Carli

    Give it a rest, Michael…The story was well and truly off the page and suddenly there is Alcibides..who has previously condemned my writing to a collective of ..: “stupid little anecdotes”…suddenly sinking the boot into the main character in an effort to deminish him and by consequence he thinks; the impetus of my story-telling and no sooner do I put him in his rightful place than we have Kaye Lee…who before has made a point of ignoring me, suddenly on the page virtue-signalling in defence of Alcibades with all the angst of an Old Testament Prophet tyestifying for the Lord!!…and you tell ME to “go easy”!!??…give me a break…

  14. Michael Taylor

    Joe, Alcibiades never had a go at you. He was having a go at the character in your wonderful story.

  15. Joseph Carli

    From Alcibiades first comment..:
    ” Kapitan Kemp failed to test the allegation of the Corporal against his disliked(?) Sgt. No charges, no field hearing or field courts martial. Instead the untested allegation was accepted as fact & in abrogation of command responsibility, essentially summarily executed an NCO, in the most deceitful manner, by proxy. Kemp took pleasure in his cowardly, irresponsible & frankly criminal conduct.”

    Michael…we are talking of a short story delving into the heart of a man here and Alcidiades talks of a lack of full military procedure for the charging and trial of a suspected criminal character that one has to presume (given the limits of the short story length) was found guilty in the Kapitan’s mind…
    Alcibiades is not doing a critique…he is mocking the lack of “detail” in my story.. and vicariously..; mocking me!…..Michael…where have you been all your adult life!!!!…have you lost your marbles????…They’re playing you like a patsy!!

    And now we have that other “Ugali” ; Kronomex..right on time (to use a pun on his name)..putting his two-pence worth in… this a scripted play?

  16. Michael Taylor

    Have I lost my marbles? No, I haven’t, and I take offence to that suggestion.

  17. Joseph Carli

    A comment of endearment, Michael…

  18. Kaye Lee

    Being told you are “being played like a patsy” is not endearing. It also shows you don’t know Michael very well.

  19. Kronomex

    And so Joe proves my point about personal attacks and petulant name calling. Again. As usual your behaviour and paranoia drives people away and causes ructions. You do this time and again and still don’t learn. Grow up! Your nasty attack on Michael was completely unwarranted. Will you apologise? Probably not.


  20. Joseph Carli

    Michael..I gave the background for this story in the opening introduction…The original Hungerford story set in Bougainville was a detailed setting from a japanese officer’s alleged was more violent and covered a wider panorama of the Japanese camp and activities of the mutinous men at the end of their tether as the allies closed in..It was much more undisciplined than the German unit I dscribed, because I wanted to compress the emotion into a smalled group and focus on the one man…
    It is clear that Acibiades was only interested in mocking my capacity to depict such a military situation from his own knowledge base of such things…whatever that is…for in the original story, the commanding officer, in judgement of the sgt’ there sends him with a note to the next camp telling the commander there ..: “This man is a thief, cheat and a liar…shoot him immediately; Ayashi.”..and the sgt. glanced through the door…: “It is getting late, Lieutenent…shall I stay overninght at Mevai?”….Ayashi looked at him and laughted suddenly, uncontrollably…”Yes, will stay overnight at Mevai . . . ”
    So without any concept of what or where I gleaned my storyline from, Acibiades makes ridiculous critique not knowing anything of the subject and I then am called to let him crank up his mockery and have to defend myself from an onslaught of the usual suspects who seem to make it a habit to then drag YOU, Michalel , into the conversation…are you not seeing a pattern here?

  21. Michael Taylor

    I give up. I’m outta here.

  22. Joseph Carli

    Right…I’m calling on other commentators who regularly post on this blog to either back me up or condemn me…as you please..and I’ll take the general consensus as judgement of whether I acted correctly in my defence or as a bully in this situation.
    Go for it!….it’s your right…

  23. Kronomex

    Joe, you can have the whole thread to yourself! Happy now? I have better things to do than see you throwing tantrums.

  24. Diannaart

    Joseph – taking you at your words above.

    You personally attack and bully anyone who dares to differ with your writing.

    That said, there are many who enjoy your stories, be happy about that and ignore the rest.

  25. Alcibiades

    Sgt Richter did not shoot the gut shot private. There is no evidence he ordered or compelled, though it’s implied, the other private soldier to do so. The private could have simply handed the Luger pistol to the mortally wounded soldier & the ultimate decision left to him. Same end result, less unnecessary trauma. If, and only if, he was in fact ordered to so, the private could have refused what would constitute an unlawful command. The private did neither. There is no comment from the other patrol members present at the time of the incident.

    Sgt Richter is not represented well in the wording & phrasing, nor in his personal remarks, however, Sgt Richters first & highest duty was to the welfare & safe return, of the remaining men in his patrol, some also wounded, though not fatally. This he fulfilled.

    Kapitan Kemp unlawfully physically assaulted his subordinate Senior Non Commissioned Officer, Sgt Richter, without justification. Further Criminal conduct, in breach of Military Law, in breach of good order & discipline, & compounded by doing so in the presence of a private soldier.

    Kapitan Kemp also accepted the rumour of Sgt Richter intending to desert, as fact, unchallenged. Kapitan Kemp never questioned Sgt Richter on either the alleged theft of rations, nor his supposed intent to desert, nor even provided him an opportunity to refute them or even defend himself.

    A field hearing or field courts martial is a dramatically abbreviated form of Military Law procedure whilst under combat conditions, whilst in contact with the enemy, due military necessity. The laying of charges & even the barest bones of due process is the right of every soldier. Unilateral, arbitrary, summary execution is reprehensible & in the manner related re the circumstances & method & diarised ‘feelings/thoughts’, obscene. A criminal abuse of the delegated absolute power of life & death of the most dishonourable kind, commonly perceived for over a century, in fact considered, a war crime.

    Kapitan Kemps multiple actions & failure to act, aggregate egregious conduct, abrogation of his duty & responsibilities in regards to the ultimate safety & welfare of his men or even his command, in wartime, is inexcusable.

    Joseph, reluctantly,
    previously condemned my writing to a collective of ..: “stupid little anecdotes
    You know your purported ‘direct’ quote is patently false & also contextually false, yet it is repeated, yet again. Last attributed to Kaye Lee(IIRC). Unfortunate.
    Pardon ? What does ‘well & truly off the page’ even mean ?
    put me in my rightful place‘ ? Really ? Vicious, intensely personal ad hominem, and not the first time, for the temerity to comment on the conduct, in context, of a fictional character ? Nice.

    Repeated accusations of conspirators, ‘Padrones’, Lieutenants, ‘Ugali’, & wilfully interpreting comment on a fictional character, in context, as a direct personal attack ? Paranoia …

    As for assertions re knowledge & motivations ? As a young child one was enamored of the ‘As you were!’ publications, including quintessentially Australian sketched illustrations & with unique Mil Green hardcovers my father kept on his bookshelf, along with journals, non-fiction novels, re the Fall of Singapore, the Burma railroad, Changi, Hellships & the now forgotten to history Australian campaigns; Kokoda, through New Guinea, Bougainville, New Britain, Solomon Islands, Borneo & others in the Pacific. Along with the mini military libraries then held at most RSLs. Let alone my own subsequent service. Respectfully, your knowingly ignorant assumptions & claims including asserted intent directed towards me personally, one finds deeply offensive.

    Your comments re the original story recounted by T.G.Hungerford, are in fact directly supportive of my ‘in context’ critique of the conduct & actions of the entirely fictional Kapitan Kemp, as told. Inadvertent ? Regardless, thank you.

  26. Joseph Carli

    And all I get in response is the Three Stooges…..Just goes to prove the existance of the “Passatella” Principle.

  27. Kaye Lee

    Why do you do this Joseph? I mean seriously….are you just seeking attention through controversy? People enjoy your stories but they do not enjoy your petulant tantrums and personal attacks. I am still flabbergasted that you think discussing one of your fictional characters is a personal attack on you. You are not the hero of the story Joseph. You write well. Let people enjoy that. Let them make their comments about how the story makes them feel without incurring your wrath. We all view things differently. What you consider tales of romance and passion I often see as stories of lust and betrayal. That doesn’t mean the story is not well written.

  28. Joseph Carli

    Don’t get stressed..I’ve written a response in an article..I’ll submit it to Michael and he can decide if he wants to post it or not.

  29. Kaye Lee

    I’m not stressed. It is you who needs to chill and let Michael do likewise. He is in Europe.

  30. Joseph Carli

    Anyway…whoever is the post saved!….ready for you.

  31. Joseph Carli

    Who is the moderator?

  32. Kronomex

    Now you are just being churlish and childish. Just post it be done with it. Just “Damn the torpedos, full speed ahead.”

  33. Joseph Carli has to be moderated…it is posted…go chew on a cucumber and cool it!

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