Chapter Seventy-Nine

The gunshot rang out, echoing across the frozen landscape. Ronnie didn’t realize he was still alive until he felt a body fall heavily across him. He moved faster than he thought possible, sitting up as he shoved the body to the side. More gunshots followed and then, almost immediately, cries of surrender in mixed German and English. He shook his head, trying desperately to clear his vision. Without his glasses, he could barely see. He managed to make out the figures of soldiers running towards them and he realized with an odd, numb feeling that they were American soldiers. The guards were seized and the few prisoners that remained ran, if they could, to meet their rescuers halfway. Ronnie found he suddenly had strength enough to stand again. 

“Lieutenant?” The voice was untainted by the German accent or by starvation and exhaustion… a strange sound. And a familiar one. Ronnie knew that voice. He squinted in the sunlight, straining to make out the features of the face not far in front of him. 

“Ronnie?” Sandy added in disbelief, recognizing him. “You’re alive, man? Hey boys, it's Chief… he's alive!" 

Ronnie grinned as the soldiers of his old unit surrounded him, clapping him on the back, wrapping him in bear hugs, offering chocolate and cigarettes and whatever else they managed to grab out of their packs, all talking at once and so fast they made him dizzy.

“Wait till Emma hears I found you,” one of the soldiers spoke up and Ronnie grinned wider.

“Josh…”

“Yup. It’s me. And Emma’s gonna love me forever now. Of course, she already promised she would, but maybe she’ll love me even more now."

"Yeah," Sandy grinned over Josh's shoulder. "Didya see it? Man, that Kraut was about to blow your brains out... if it hadn't been for ol' Torpedo here...  he was just barely in time!"

Josh might have been about to say something, but they never knew what it was. He was cut off as Ronnie wrapped his arms around him, hugging him fiercely. There were tears in both pairs of eyes when he let go.

“Emma… you’ve seen her?” The simple act of speaking a few words almost took too much effort. He could feel his body sagging and, now that the fear was gone, he longed to just sink into the snow and sleep for days.

“Seen her? Course I've seen her. I married her, remember?"

“Yeah… you got married…" Ronnie felt dazed. "My little sister got married…"

"Yeah, course we did. Did you forget?" 

"No…" Ronnie laughed weakly. "Just still surprised she said yes, you knucklehead."

“Lieutenant,” Another voice. One he didn’t recognize. But he recognized the rank and he saluted the major standing in front of him. The man was holding a pistol towards him. “Take it,” he said. “And shoot any of the guards you want. If they treated you unfairly and heck, it sure looks like they did, shoot them.”

Ronnie accepted the pistol, turned it over quietly in his hands. He looked up, scanning the faces of the guards who stood blindfolded and with hands bound, at the rifle points of the American soldiers. He could barely make out their features, but he knew the one who had threatened to shoot him… and the one who had ordered him beaten… and the ones who had carried out those orders. He tightened his grip on the pistol, envisioned lifting the gun and ending the life of every one of them. Watching them fall lifelessly to the ground. His hand shook, his heart clenched. And he dropped the gun into the snow.

“No.” he said quietly. “I’ve seen enough death.”

✯✯✯

“They’re bringing in more of the prisoners,” Marci called. “You’re going on shift in five. And hurry, these guys are in bad shape!”

“Goodness, girl, think of a better term than that,” Emma yelled back. “They’re not prisoners anymore.” She rushed from the tent, tying a handkerchief over her hair. Marci fell in step beside her as they hurried toward the main tent. 

“Seeing how these men are,” she frowned. “I’m beginning to believe all these rumors about the death marches. They’re starving to death and horribly sick. Strange to be taking care of men like this after working on battle wounds for so very long.”

“Just another kind of battle wounds,” Emma answered drearily, stopping beside the entrance of the main tent to watch the unit of weary soldiers straggling in. Some were half-carrying comrades who limped along at their sides, others hauled stretchers. She smiled suddenly, recognizing some of the faces. “It’s Scout’s unit,” she added, half to herself. Marci grinned and shoved her from behind. 

“Go on, go see ‘im. I’ll cover for you, but just for a few minutes! And it's not fair... when are the Canucks coming in, tell me that!" 

With a grateful smile toward her friend, Emma pushed her way through the gathering crowd. Within moments, she found herself in Josh’s arms. 

“Lucky,” she laughed as he kissed her. “I’m terribly lucky. No matter how many times you’ve gone marching off, you’ve always come back to me.”

“The power of prayer, eh?” Josh grinned. “And wait till you see what else the power of prayer has done.”

“What do you mean?” Emma caught something in his voice that wasn’t usually there. He didn’t answer right away, just grinned wider and gestured towards the men behind him. Emma looked past his shoulder, confused. An unconscious soldier lay on a stretcher, his face gaunt and haggard, streaks of gray in his blond hair. Realization slowly dawned on Emma and she felt her heart nearly stop beating.

“Josh?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Is that…?”

Josh nodded and Emma burst into tears. 

“I… I thought…” She pulled away from Josh and ran to Ronnie’s side, dizzy in her disbelief. It couldn’t actually be him… could it? Tears filling her eyes till she could barely see, she reached out to touch his face, wincing at the sight of the scars and bruises. She hadn’t seen him in three years… could it really have been that long? It had been a lifetime ago and yet it still seemed like just the other day when he had said goodbye. She remembered just how he had looked that day and… no… this man… this couldn’t be Ronnie. Not her big brother, not looking like this. He must be at least ten years older than Ronnie was. 

“Get him inside, now,” she ordered, trying to make her voice stop shaking. Her hands were shaking too, she was shaking all over. She was torn right in half between wild, delirious joy and frantic disbelief and horror. All she could think of, over and over, was… what would Mama think? What would she say if she saw him like this? Well… she wouldn’t. Emma would see to that. Rolling up her sleeves in determination, she marched in the tent after the soldiers.