The phone rang. The first words I heard were “Thank you!” It was a familiar voice that both puzzled and pleased me. I asked: “What for?”

The caller replied: “A column you wrote in early October has led me to a long-lost friend.” He introduced himself as Bob Peshak of the South Side of La Crosse, an acquaintance at Trane before he retired 16 years ago.

Bob, 77, told of connecting with buddy Ed Slonka, 86, a North Sider. It has been 50 years since they served together with the Wisconsin National Guard, Battery A, 173rd Field Artillery Battalion. A close friendship grew during 1950 to 1959, when the armory was on La Crosse’s South Avenue and during that time relocated to Onalaska.

My column described Slonka’s life as a Merrill’s Marauder in the China Burma India Theater during World War II, and described his quest to give recognition to the overlooked “raw courage” of 2,300 young soldiers.

Unbeknownst to Bob and Ed, they had lived cross-town from each other since 2000, when Ed moved back to La Crosse after Arizona and Nevada livelihoods begun in the early ’60s.

Bob, a sergeant first class, remained in La Crosse when leaving the National Guard in 1959. They had been good buddies during many summer military encampments at McCoy and Ripley. Somehow they drifted apart.

After Bob read my column — it included Ed’s phone number — he dialed the Slonka residence and got Ed’s son. Ed was out of town. Ed returned home to the message that Bob had called, and was in disbelief: “It can’t be, it can’t be. No way!” Returning Bob’s call, Mrs. Peshak answered and was told to tell Bob that “the Burmese Bandit is on the line.” It was an affectionate war-related nickname Ed acquired because of his tour that included Burma. “What a unique way to re-introduce himself after all these years,” Bob said.

I was privy to the first face-to-face meeting between Ed and Bob since reconnecting. They met at Hungry Peddler for lunch. I was sitting with Bob at a table when Ed appeared from around the corner with a boisterous “Why Bob, you ol’ sonofagun!”

They hugged, and almost in unison complimented one another: “You haven’t changed a bit.” But each knew better. Ed offered: “My legs are going to hell.” Bob countered, “My back is … well, that’s why I have this cane.” Memories flowed over salad.

Ed, who left the guard as a master sergeant, recalled, “Remember we put cold beer on your chest to wake you up?” Bob nodded: “Yeah, that was you and another mischievous friend, Leo.”

The banter continued as other mutual military friends — including Fred “Fritz” Kesselring, Harold Topel and Charlie Brown — drifted into the conversation.

Bob shared, “In our Guard unit, there were a lot of World War II guys who helped train us well. I was not on active duty during WWII, but I was fascinated by it, and have studied it extensively.”

He continued, “And today I’m sitting next to a real World War II hero. I can’t believe it!” At the same time, I couldn’t believe I played a small part in this joyous reunion. It was pretty special.

I asked, “So, what are your plans for keeping in touch with each other?”

“I hear Ed has a pretty nice deck along the river,” Bob answered. “We’ll meet there often to visit, drink a beer or two and enjoy the view.”

Planting his hand on Ed’s arm, Bob added, “I’m not going to let him get away again.”