In WW2 my father was stationed in India and Burma. One day the choice of leading a patrol was between him and another captain so they cut cards. Dad cut the queen of diamonds. The other officer led the patrol which was ambushed and wiped out. Dad kept the card and put it in a scrapbook with other mementos and photos of the war.

My father died in 1994 and in the seven years proir to his death he bedridden. His main activities were reading his Bible, watching westerns on tv and playing solitare.

The last time I saw him alive, he was playing and talking to those of us in the room.

"I need a queen" he said,"and here she is; the queen of diamonds. My lucky card."

Those were the last words he ever spoke. He slipped into a coma from which he never awoke.

Mom had both cards buried with him.

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