TDTLBU Chapter Thirty-Four

 A couple of weeks after the blackout brought a letter from Jerry. Katie had run out to meet the mailman at the gate, as she did every morning, and came in with eyes shining and cheeks flushed, clutching the envelope to her heart. It was postmarked New Caledonia and dated November 2, brimming over with jumbled descriptions of his first real battle around the Santa Cruz Islands and heavily-censored words about the battle they were about to engage in. It was in Guadalcanal… that was as much as she could gather. 

As soon as she could find time, Katie fairly flew down the hill and down the road towards town, eager to share her letter with Jerry’s mother. She had been spending as much time as possible lately with her future mother in law. The more she was with her, the more she loved her, the dear, motherly soul.

Mrs. Bailey had gotten a letter that morning too and both were read aloud. 

“It’s about time too,” she grinned. “It’s been a month since the last one he sent. And they’re always just full of holes.”

“Ugh, that ridiculous censoring,” Katie sighed. “The last letter he sent me had all the names and things cut out of it, but there were a few lines on the other side of the paper that I desperately wish hadn’t been interrupted.” She flushed, smiling at the memory of the words in those letters that she had been able to decipher. “Sometimes they take mercy and only use marker instead of scissors.”

Katie remembered once reading the phrase “Absence makes the heart grow fonder”. She had kept that phrase continually in mind in the months since Jerry had left. Strange how she seemed to love him more and more with each passing day. She kept his picture on the stand beside her bed… the one he had taken just before he had left, in his new uniform… kept it where it was the first thing she saw when she opened her eyes in the morning and the last thing she saw when she closed them at night. Daily, hourly, she prayed for his safety and swift return.

“I had a bad moment several days ago,” she murmured. “During the air raid drill. I… it was a little weird…”

“What happened?” Mrs. Bailey looked at Katie sideways, her eyes searching.

“I… don’t know. It was nothing, really. Just for a moment I thought…”

“Yes?” Mrs. Bailey prompted. 

“I thought I heard his voice. Calling my name.” She smiled wanly, her eyes suddenly sad. “Just my imagination, I guess.”

“Strange.” Mrs. Bailey mused. “I thought I heard him too…” But her voice was so quiet that Katie didn’t hear.

“His birthday is soon,” Katie picked up a rather scratchy ball of red wool and frowned at it. “I wish I could think of something special to send him, but I’m afraid warm socks and a clean shirt are all I know of that he could use. I’m sure he doesn’t want useless extras.”

“True, but you could send him a batch of his favorite cookies,” Mrs. Bailey raised her eyebrows with a smile. “Maybe some candy too. And I’m sure he’d love a photo of you.”

Weeks passed after that and no more letters came. At first, Katie was unconcerned. After all, he was in the Navy. Who knew how long he could be out at sea before they put into port to mail letters? But one grey day in early December, a package arrived in the mail. 

It was her own package… Jerry’s birthday present. Stamped on the front in red were the words “Returned to sender by direction of the War Department. Undeliverable as addressed.”

A week later, her Christmas package came back with the same stamp. 

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"Janie wrote today," Dan was beaming with pride over the already creased and worn letter in his hands. "She says little Elsie took her first few steps today. Or rather…" he paused to check the date. "She took her first steps a week ago." The smile was fast fading from his eyes, replaced with loneliness and longing. His last words were so quiet, nobody else caught them. "My baby girl is walking and I missed it."

"Marjie says she's been knitting so much lately that she can do it in her sleep," Sam grinned. "She sent a photo of her and the gals, all with armloads of socks."

"Let's see it," Ralph leaned forward eagerly as Sam produced the photo, the others crowding in over his shoulders.

"Whoa, would you look at that?" Sandy let out a low whistle. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" Josh nodded in agreement, pretending to wipe away tears of emotion.

"Prettiest sight I ever saw," Sandy went on. "Clean socks. Hundreds of them."

"Oh, shut up, you two," Sam shoved them away as he tucked the photo neatly back into its envelope. "It's your turn now, Torpedo. You got a gal?"

"Do I?" Josh chuckled knowingly as he stood in the center of the circle, hooking his thumbs through his belt loops. "Do I indeed!"

"Well? Do you?" Dan pressed.

"...No." Josh finished with an anticlimactic shrug of his shoulders. 

"Fair 'nough." Mac grunted. "We'll ransack your pack for photos later."

"Nah, that won't be necessary." Ronnie pulled his little Bible from his shirt pocket and rifled through it. "I've got the proof right here." 

Josh turned scarlet all over as Ronnie produced a picture of Emma. For once he was tongue-tied. He simply stood there, helplessly, stupidly, as the others raised eyebrows and murmured admiration over the photo.

"What a dish," Ralph grinned. "You're a lucky kid, Hayes."

"She's not really my girl," Josh began weakly, then abruptly turned the conversation around. "What about you, Cat? Show us your girl."

"I'll bet he hasn't got one," Sandy stretched out full-length on the ground, propping his chin on his helmet. "I'll bet the girls are too scared of ole Scarface." Sandy most likely would've said more, but the murderous glare Mac shot in his direction quelled him instantly.

"Name's Maggie," Mac said simply. "Prettiest girl in Lanesboro. An' I only had one chance at a date before I shipped out. But she gave me her picture all the same."

"Present it, my good man, and be lively!" Josh clapped briskly, assuming such an atrocious British accent that any limey within hearing distance would have fainted on the spot.

Mac surprisingly obeyed, producing the tattered photo of a young girl with curly hair and wide eyes. 

"I'll never forget in first grade, when I dumped her hair ribbons in an ink pot," he laughed reminiscently. "She cried and I felt awful, so I tried to scrub 'em out in the creek. Didn't work, so I spent every cent I had... about five pennies, I think it was, on new ribbons for her." Josh was grinning annoyingly at the photo... or at least it annoyed Mac, so he slipped it out of sight.

"That's all you get, you bampot. I wanna know more about your not-girl, or whatever you call her, particularly why Ronnie has a picture of her."

"Because she's my sister," Ronnie grinned. "Emma Ruth... I've mentioned her before, 'member? And never mind what that big lout tells you, he's dead gone on her. "

"Hm. Got any more sisters?" Sandy raised his eyebrows.

"Yep. One. Name's Kathryn, goes by Katie." He slipped another photo from the Bible and held it up. "Emma's joined the Army Nurse Corps and isn't far behind us now. But little Katie won't ever be going far from home. They're about as different as two sisters can be, I guess."

Mac leaned over, staring at Katie's picture as if transfixed. His eyes were wide. Without warning, he reached out and took the picture right out of Ronnie's hand.

"She's darling," he murmured, never taking his eyes from the little photograph. "Sweetest smile I ever saw. Beautiful."

"Yeah, she is. Man, I miss 'em." Ronnie took the picture back and stuffed it in his Bible.

"What about your girl, Chief?"

"Haven't got one."

"Hey. I'm not saying nothin'," Josh protested as the others turned inquiring eyes on him. "You gotta take his word for it."

                                                                                      ✯✯✯

"Boy, it feels dumb to be in here like this when there's so many so horribly wounded they can't even stand. All I've got is a couple of bullets in the arm."

"Which could become a serious issue if not taken care of," Emma raised her eyebrows, her voice taking on a scolding tone. "Our mission is to put soldiers back together again so they can get back out and fight, if they possibly can. So no reason to be stubborn, soldier. You're a lucky man." 

As she spoke, she was carefully removing bullets and pieces of shrapnel from what really was a badly-injured right arm. The surgeons being busier now than they ever had been before in their lives, Emma and many other nurses had taken on the non-fatal wounds. 

"Where are you from, lieutenant?" She frowned in concentration as she worked, idly keeping up the conversation to distract the man from his wounds.

"Nebraska," he grunted, hissing in pain and turning his face away. "I punched cows out there."

"I bet Mickey would just love to meet you," Emma grinned. "My little brother… he's been obsessed with cowboys all his life, although he never met a real one. He'd turn just green with envy if I told him that I did. Although he's more taken with soldiers these days than anything else."

"Well, I'm both," the lieutenant laughed. "He sounds like a swell kid. Got a little brother myself. He joined up with the Air Force and, ha! Talk about green with envy. Those guys are living in luxury compared to the hell we army men are dealing with. Pardon the expression."

"No worries, soldier," Emma grit her teeth as she pulled out the last piece of shrapnel that she could see. "I've heard a lot worse, believe me. A LOT worse."

"Guess so," the lieutenant grinned weakly, bearing his pain as best he could. "By the way, my name's Nathan. Nathan Craig, but everyone calls me Nate.”

"Emma Ruth Stewart, at your service, Sir," Emma gave him a jaunty salute before reaching for disinfectant and cotton swabs.

"Emma Ruth, eh?" he repeated softly. "You know, Emma, if this were Nebraska and we were meeting at a church or someplace respectable, instead of a canvas hospital tent in the middle of the desert, I'd ask you out to dinner."

"And if I weren't an army nurse with more work than I've ever had in my life, and if there was something to eat besides K-rations, I just might have said yes."

"Well I'm sorry that we're meeting in these conditions then."

Emma smiled ruefully, shaking her head as she cleaned his wounds and wrapped his arm in bandages.

"There you are, soldier. Good as new… almost. Give it a rest for a couple of weeks, okay? No front-line fighting until the wounds close."

"Wait…" He reached out to grab her hand as she turned to leave. "Write to me… please? Lieutenant Nathan Craig, 17th Battalion, 1st Division."

"If I wrote to every soldier who asked me to, I'd never do anything but write," Emma chuckled. But as she spoke, she met his eyes and was surprised to feel her heart skip a beat. It really had never done that before.

"Please," he begged and he really looked suddenly desperate. "I'd love to get to know you better. Please write... It's so terribly lonely out there."

And Emma promised.