Martha, why did Abe and Sally call me Alan? Isn't that the name of their son?

Their only son, yes. They've never talked about him.

He died along way from here, in the war. It was a dirty war, Alan. A war no one understood or wanted, that killed thousands of lads like Alan.

When you turned up in their lives, wounded, weak and needing them, they transferred their affection on to you. Like on a…

Like on a baby. Is that what you're trying to say.

An adult baby, with no memories, no family, no friends, no identity, no NOTHING! I've been torturing myself trying to find my memories, but all I ever find is a blank. A uniform, immense and complete BLANK!

Martha, is there any chance, however slim, that one day I'll get my memory back?

It's possible, Alan. But I honestly can't say for certain.

However, I can still talk, read, write… I know what a town, a train, a telephone and a television are… I can still drive a car and use a phone.

All of that is part of your collective memories and your acquired reflexes, my dear…

I'll try and explain it for you without getting too technical… Shall we get started on these clams then?