TDTLBU Chapter Fifty-Four

Mac couldn't quite believe his luck. On top of the fact he had just been informed he was ready for a prosthetic, he had discovered that Lintie, for so he had resorted to calling her, would be helping with his therapy. She was just beginning to learn, so the doctor would be closely observing, but boy, was he glad to be a guinea pig in this case!

"Now, you don’t have to worry about moving around with this,” she smiled reassuringly as she knelt in front of him, arranging the strange-looking straps and buckles of the wooden contraption. “We’ve had many amputees here and none of them have had much trouble learning to walk. In time, you’ll be able to do just about everything you did before.”

“Well, we’ll see about that,” Mac eyed the prosthetic warily. “It looks more like a heap of scrap than a leg to me.”

“Then be glad that your pants will cover it,” the girl laughed. “Here. It’s not as hard to put on as it looks. You slide your leg into it… like this… and fasten the straps around… like this. See? Now you can try standing. But slowly. If you fall, I might have trouble getting you up again.”

Mac reached out towards a nearby cabinet for support, biting his lip in concentration as he struggled to rise to his feet. The nurse gripped his arm to steady him as he slowly stood for the first time in more days than he could remember. He swayed, fighting for balance, and she reached out quickly, wrapping her arm around his waist to support him.

“Here… it’s okay. Just lean on me.”

“Don’t want to crush you. What if I fall?”

“You won’t,” she grinned. “Just focus on gaining your balance. Eyes straight ahead, take a deep breath, and then just one step. Okay? I’ll be with you until you can do it on your own.”

“You never told me your name, did you?” He followed her instructions, but he could scarcely keep his mind from wandering. Being so close to her, feeling her arm around him, it made his heart beat twice its normal speed. He was mesmerized by her, by those golden-brown eyes, her captivating smile, and her voice… soft and sweet and lilting like notes of music.

“I don’t know,” she answered absently, eyes trained on the floor as he took his first tentative step. “There. You’re doing it! See?”

“Well?” he pressed. “What is your name? I can’t get over the feeling that I’ve seen you somewhere before…”

“You’ve seen me many times before. In the ward, in the cafeteria…”

“No. I mean before that. And…” he pulled away from her suddenly, standing on his own for the first time. “Is your name some kind of top-secret military information, anything like that?”

“No,” she laughed. “I’m just Katie.”

“Katie? Katie who?” Mac suddenly found he couldn't breathe. His head was spinning wildly.

“Katie Stewart.”

“Stewart!” He started as if he had been hit by a bullet. “Stewart? Katie Stewart?”

“Yes. Katie Stewart. Something remarkable about that?”

"Katie..." he whispered, half-insane. The one thought that stuck out in his mind was that he was glad the doctor had stepped out and thus wasn't around to witness his near heart attack. She was real... Actually real. And she was here.

"Share and share alike," she grinned. "Who are you, exactly?"

"Mac... uh..." He blanked on his own name for a moment and nearly panicked. "Mac... Scott."

“Mac Scott!” Katie cried, her jaw dropping. “Why, of course!! I should’ve known. The green eyes, the accent, the scar… Why, I feel as if I’ve known you all my life, I’ve heard so much about you. Tell me, did you really beat the tar out of Josh? Josh wouldn't say a word about it, of course, but Ronnie told us plenty. I tell you what, Josh has had that coming to him for a long time.”

Somehow her torrent of words managed to break the spell and Mac recovered with a gulp. Quickly he rearranged his mind and set about desperately trying to act normal again. 

“I beat the tar out of Torpedo many times, the radge. All the collieshangies that we can’t blame on the Krauts, we pin on him.”

“Do you even really speak English?” Katie laughed. “I barely understood what you said, just now. It’s all Scottish, isn’t it?”

“Aye, an’ would ye look at th’ lassie noo?” Mac cried, putting on his most extreme accent. “Doesna even believe I speak English. Saoil dè a bheireadh am beachd sin dhut!”

“In my defense, that wasn’t English in the remotest sense. What was it?”

“Gaelic,” Mac grinned. “My mother was fluent. She taught me.”

“Well, keep your English around me, Cat.” He grinned as she spoke the nickname given by his army buddies. “Otherwise I won’t understand a word you say. Now enough of this, we have to focus on your therapy, okay?”

He laughed, but followed her instruction meekly after that. It wouldn’t do to rile her up. After all, this was a miracle… he couldn’t go messing it up. The girl of his dreams was real after all.

✯✯✯

It had been hard to give the babies up. Harder than they had thought it would be. The sisters at the convent, sweet and motherly, had welcomed the children with open arms. But Ruthie had clung to Ronnie, burying her face in his shoulder, and Frankie had cried when he was handed over. And Dan could hardly be persuaded to give Madeleine up. He stood there for a long, long time, holding the baby close. At last he pushed her into the arms of an elderly nun and vanished out the door without a backwards glance. Ronnie finally managed to detach himself from Ruthie but the look in her big dark eyes as he stepped away nearly broke his heart.

They were all glad though, the day after that, to know that the children were safe. In a surprise skirmish with German troops, two men were killed and three more wounded. They delivered the wounded to an aid station and moved on, weary and demoralized. By this point, fighting was only a reflex action and they kept going simply because they no longer remembered life without war. It was strange, that feeling of numb, aching drudgery. Time didn't seem to have much meaning any more. They measured it in the miles they had advanced now, rather than in hours. Paris wasn't far off and when they reached it, there was sure to be a long and terrible battle. For now, their object was to rid the countryside of Germans, always pushing them on ahead as they moved toward their final goal. 

But as June faded away into July, minds were once again turned homeward. Remembering their day of Independence and reminded more strongly than ever of why they must fight, the American soldiers planned a grand celebration for the Fourth. But this was no ordinary picnic at the park complete with band music and firecrackers. At noon on July the Fourth, the Americans opened fire on the Germans, sending hundreds of red, white, and blue smoke shells, along with the usual explosive fare, screaming after the enemy. It was a grand day, in a strange, ironic sort of way. Soldiers yelled rather than sang "Yankee Doodle" and "Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition" while the sky filled with the smoky colors of Ol' Glory. 

The day after the Fourth, Colonel Steele dispatched Ronnie along with Ken, Sandy, and Sam on a scouting mission across still-uncovered territory. It was occupied by German troops and populated with terrified citizens, but then, what was new? It was the same old story, all over France.

Somehow, the men managed to stay out of danger and the scouting party seemed to be successful. But that night, when they stopped in an empty farmhouse to forage for food and beds, the sound of German voices outside caught them off guard. Afraid to move, they waited in silence, not even daring to breathe. And then came the inevitable pounding on the door and a harsh German voice demanding entrance. 

Sandy edged toward the door, rifle in hand. Behind him, the others had their rifles at the ready, prepared to attack the moment the Germans broke their way in. But Sandy glanced back at them, lifting his finger to his lips in a gesture of silence as he suddenly laid his rifle down.

"Trust me," he mouthed and, without warning, swung the door open to admit a Wehrmacht officer.

"Amerikanisch! Ich fordere deine kapitulation!" German soldiers spilled into the room… more than a dozen to their four. Surrounded, the Americans dropped their weapons and raised their hands. All but Sandy. Striding up confidently to the officer who held him at gunpoint, he saluted and began to speak in perfect German.

"Du liegst falsch, Leutnant."

His comrades watched in stunned silence as Sandy carried on an angry conversation with the German lieutenant. To all appearances, the German seemed sheepish and even apologetic as Sandy yelled at him. Now he was nodding in agreement and Sandy picked up his rifle, turning to face his startled unit. The Germans were filing out now, all except the lieutenant, who stood by Sandy as he held his own men at gunpoint.

"Amerikanisch," he snarled, and then switched back to English, now heavily-accented. "You are all prisoners of the Third Reich. For you the war is over, jah?" He and the lieutenant both laughed as if it was some kind of joke. The others were looking to Ronnie, bewildered. He said nothing, just stared steadily at Sandy.