At a quiet roadside diner, a three-year-old girl curled her tiny hand into an S.O.S. signal. A soldier, seated a few booths away, spotted and casually offered her a piece of candy.
The late-day buzz inside Miller’s Diner was a mixture of clattering silverware and muted conversations. Families organzied booths, truckers lingered over coffee, and an aging jukebox droned faintly in the…