His own accounts had been opened by his parents, who had thought ahead for him. After James entered the war, he directed most of his pay into his account back home, having very little need for money in the Army. There hadn't really been time to spend much of it. Here and there, perhaps. Not much.
James sat back on his heels, surprised that the memory of that came so easily to him, and with so little pain. He wiped his sweaty arm across his sweaty brow, then rocked onto the balls of his feet as he stood, stretching a little before he went to get another length of wood.
"Couple doughnuts and coffee with a nickle," James tossed out, shaking his head. That was before the war. "I can't even guess what a ring would cost today."