TDTLBU Chapter Fifty-Three

June 17, 1944

Letter from Emma 

Dear Missed and Beloved Family,

I’m all washed out. We didn’t know the casualties would be this bad. I haven’t written in days and I’m sorry. I’ve been on my feet nearly twenty hours a day. At the beginning, I made it for forty-two hours straight before I pretty much collapsed. It’s been a week now since we arrived here in Normandy and we are nowhere close to done.

I’ve seen things that I never imagined could be possible. Horrible things that I don’t want to write about. But it brings tears to my eyes when I think about it. Those poor men… boys, actually, most of them. Younger than I am. And so many in terrible pain or… disfigured for life. They tell us not to cry around the soldiers. To always have smiles on our faces and to be cheerful… try to keep their spirits up, you know. And that is probably the hardest part of all. I manage, of course, but it’s a constant battle. Every once in a while, one of us has to make a quick exit because we just can’t take it any more. But we never let the soldiers know how hard it is for us. Because we know how hard it is for them.

I just realized that I never told you about meeting Josh here. Although I guess you knew about it already, because I wrote that letter he dictated and he told you himself. I didn’t even recognize him when I first saw him, it’s been so long. He’s changed… he looks older. And tell Rob and Myra he’s going to be okay, I saw to that. I’m sure they’re eating themselves up with worry. Just a few days ago, I helped send him off to a hospital in England. He’ll get better care there and when he’s fully recovered, he’ll probably come back to his unit. 

This is a silly way to divulge such important news and I wish I had a better way to do it. But there isn’t much else I can do. I didn’t even talk to Josh about it before he left… we barely had any time together. But he asked me to marry him. And I said yes. 

Funny how I never thought about it before. I mean… we’ve been best friends for years. And I never realized I loved him… until now. Remember that paragraph at the end of Anne of Avonlea? I’m sure I’ve quoted it often enough…

“Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one’s life with pomp and blare, like a gay knight riding down; perhaps it crept to one’s side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed the rhythm and the music, perhaps… perhaps… love unfolded naturally out of a beautiful friendship, as a golden-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath.”

I’ve never believed any words so fervently before as I do these. Isn’t it ridiculous to be so happy in the middle of war? I didn’t know one could be so horribly sad and so wonderfully happy all at the same time. It turns my mind in circles at times.

I miss you all dreadfully and am looking forward with longing to the day when I see you all again. I hope Mickey won’t be too big for me to pick up when I come back. Of course, he probably won’t let me. Now I have to write to Katie and Ronnie… it’s ridiculous how split up we all are. When we all get home again and are together at last, Mom, we need to have a sort of baking fiasco and make every kind of pie, cake, and cookie we can think of. And stay up till all hours of the night simply gorging ourselves with wonderful things that are not K-rations and playing games and singing and laughing. How wonderful it would be to laugh again!

With Love,

Emma Ruth 

✯✯✯

He heard her voice before she entered the room. She was singing, all the way down the hall. Sweet, clear, pure, the voice of an angel. Unconsciously, Mac sat up a little straighter, brushing the hair out of his eyes, trying desperately to smooth it back. Why did he have to meet a girl like her under these conditions? He grimaced at the thought of it. Here he could do nothing but lie in bed. It certainly wasn't the way to go about courting, that was for sure. But there… why was he letting his thoughts jump ahead of him like that? He didn't even know her name yet.

The door swung open and she slipped through, pausing to drag a wheeled cart inside. She was still singing and he smiled. He could have listened to her sing forever. A more beautiful voice he had never heard and he was certain a more beautiful voice didn't exist. Nor a more beautiful girl, for that matter. 

She was serving lunch today, to those who were still unable to get out of bed and go to the cafeteria two floors down. Mac was a little mad where that was concerned… he had been able to get out of bed, he had been up on crutches just yesterday. But a surgery that morning had him back in bed again. And he hated it. But she was here now, and he cared for nothing else. She glanced in his direction once or twice as she worked her way through the room and he felt as if his stomach was full of jumping frogs. And then she was at his side and his head was spinning.

"How are you feeling?" She greeted him with a smile and he was suddenly glad he wasn't standing. He probably would have gone down.

"Good… fine… alright…" he stammered and then laughed at himself. "Hungry as a bear."

"That's good," she laughed with him as she lifted a tray from her cart. 

"Wish you'd keep singing," he said without meaning to. His thoughts were suddenly tumbling out of his mouth and he couldn't stop them. "Your singing is beautiful. You… you're beautiful. I…"

"Well, thank you," she grinned. She was going to move on. He couldn't let her leave… impulsively he reached out and took her hand. She looked startled and he wished he hadn't done it. He let go of her hand, feeling the blood rushing to his cheeks. 

"I… I meant to say…" he searched his mind wildly. What had he meant to say? What he said next certainly wasn't it. "You remind me of a lintie."

"A lintie?" She raised her eyebrows. "What is that?"

"A songbird, I mean. A tiny little bird that sings the prettiest songs you'll ever hear. Aye, you remind me of a lintie." He grinned sheepishly. She was laughing again. 

"You never told me your name," he added feebly, wanting desperately to know her better, but terribly afraid he was making a mess out of everything.

"Well, I guess you can call me Lintie then," she smiled again and was gone before he could say anything else.

✯✯✯

It was still raining. The rain came down in sheets and torrents, making it nearly impossible to see. Giant puddles, most ankle-deep, some knee-deep, nearly covered the soggy ground. Sandy complained loudly that they were going to drown out there. But they made it at last and the men nearly wept with relief when they found there was an actual roof to sleep under. Ronnie had been right about the rendezvous place after all and an enormous empty barn was ready for his men. 

"Maybe it's another great flood," Ken remarked, dropping his helmet and shaking the water from his hair like a dog. "Like in Noah's time, y'know? God's decided to get rid of the Nazis with a flood."

"And us along with it," Ralph added wryly. "Hey, whatcha gonna do with those kids, Chief? We can't keep 'em here."

"I know," Ronnie sighed. He had been praying constantly, ever since he found them, that he'd find a safe place to take them. But how would that even be possible? France lay in ruins. And the enemy was everywhere. 

The little ones were dripping wet now, in spite of the efforts to shield them from the rain. And the baby was crying, probably hungry. Dan had found a can of milk in his pack and was attempting to feed her. The oldest girl was shivering wildly. Ronnie had tried to wring the water from her hair and dress, but it didn't do much good. Rummaging through his pack, he came up with a spare t-shirt, miraculously still dry, and swapped it out for her soaked dress. The sleeves hung nearly to her wrists and the hem touched the floor, but at least it was dry. He wrapped her in his blanket and looked through his rations to find something for her to eat. 

"Good idea," Ken was laughing as he followed Ronnie's example, putting one of his own t-shirts on the little boy. "Cute little guy, isn't he? C'mon, buddy, what's your name? Not gonna answer me? Fine, then. Guess I'll call you Frank."

"Why Frank?" Ronnie grinned and Ken shrugged. 

"First thing that popped in my head."

"Then you're gonna need a name too," Ronnie looked at the little girl, who was standing still as a statue, the heavy blanket dangling from her thin shoulders. "You look like my sister, y'know that? Her name is Emma Ruth. Can I call you Ruthie?"

Ruthie whimpered, her little face sad. As she stepped forward, the blanket slipped to the floor. She looked back at it and then up at Ronnie, and climbed into his lap. She curled up, looking smaller than ever. Ronnie swallowed hard and reached over to pick up the blanket, wrapping her up again.

"I don't know where to take them," he murmured, glancing over at the baby in Dan's arms. "But we're gonna get them somewhere safe or die trying. That's the whole reason we're here anyway. To make France safe for little ones like these."

"Madeleine," said Dan, as if that was somehow a logical answer.

"What?"

"I'm calling her Madeleine," Dan clarified, nodding at the now-sleeping baby. "It's a French name. And I think it's pretty. I…" he sighed and shook his head. "Wish I could take her home with me. Right now. Take her home to Janie and Elsie and we could take care of her…" his voice trailed off.

The side door swung open, letting in a shower of rain along with Colonel Steele. He and his men were quartered at a farm across the field. Weary soldiers scrambled to their feet to stand at attention when he entered and sank down again in relief when he ordered them "at ease". 

"Lieutenant." He slammed the door against the rain and glanced around, searching for Ronnie in the darkness.

 "Sir," Ronnie stepped forward, Ruthie clinging to his shoulders.

"Made some inquiries about these kids," the colonel grinned at the little girl. "Seems there's a convent three miles down the road that might take 'em in. The Krauts have passed it by and moved on ahead, so it should be safe enough. I suggest you go as soon as this rain stops. We've gotta keep moving and we can't take 'em with us."

"Thank God," Ronnie sighed, dropping formality in his relief. "I was afraid we wouldn't find a place."

The colonel laughed.

"Pity though. We could've recruited them. Looks like they're already in uniform," he nodded at the army issue t-shirt Ruthie was wearing. Turning, he addressed the room. "Well, get some rest, men, and pray this rain stops soon. We gotta head for Paris."

Silence fell after the colonel left, interrupted only by the constant drumming of rain on the roof and the snores of sleeping men. Ronnie and Ken made a bed out of hay and army blankets in the corner for the babies. After eating the last of Ronnie's peppermints, along with dozens of other odds and ends the soldiers had found in their packs, Frankie and Ruthie slept cuddled up together, looking like a pair of little angels. 

"Would a handkerchief work as a diaper?" Dan said gloomily from the corner where he still held Madeleine.

"Do any of us even have clean handkerchiefs?" Sandy answered, even more gloomily.

"It's muddy," Dan sighed. "But it'll have to work."