TDTLBU Chapter Twenty-Seven

Life settled into a sort of routine after the boys left. Emma threw herself more than ever into her work at the hospital, working extra-long hours at her shift. After work and on the days she had off, she worked at the Red Cross or went to the USO dances in the next town over, spending scandalous amounts of her salary on the train. She was almost never home and when she was, she looked almost panicked. She avoided everyone and seemed almost afraid when people tried to speak to her. She was trying to work up the courage to tell her family what she was planning to do. She didn’t intend to ask for permission, she would simply tell them she was going and then she would go. But taking the first step was harder than she ever thought it would be.

"Seems as if I'm scared to death, although I hate to admit it," she wrote to Josh in frustration. He was the only person in whom she had dared to confide her dream. "And if I do get over there, what if I can't keep up? What if I can't do what needs to be done? And I keep thinking of the look in Mom's eyes when Ronnie left… and I wonder what she'll say to me. How'd you ever manage to bite the bullet and break the news that you were going, Scout? I admire your courage, that's for sure."

"You? Scared?" Josh wrote back. "That's a new one. Fact is, Em, you want this more than anything. And if I know you, you're the most determined girl I ever met. I know you can do it and I know you'll be a top-notch nurse, so just tell the family what's what and say you have to go. That's what I did. And if you get scared telling them, well, here's one person that believes in you. And tell you what, Em. If I get shot to pieces over there, there's no one I'd rather have to put me back together again. Good luck on the news-breaking!"

Katie worked almost daily at the Red Cross, sewing as hard as she could. She was never seen without some kind of material in her hands. She knitted socks and hemmed sheets and cut and rolled bandages to pack into first-aid kits. She sang as she worked, cheerful in spite of fear. She was in love, and love somehow rose above the terror she felt deep inside of her being. It helped her through the uncertainty of those long and weary months. 

Mickey declared himself a four-star general and went to work building up what he dubbed “The Infantry”. This title was mainly because Emma refused to allow him to adopt the term “Cavalry”. 

“There can only be one Cavalry, buddy,” she told him. “You’ll need to find something new. Original. Creative.”

The Infantry’s duties were many and varied, including rubber, scrap and paper drives among fishing, hiking, swimming, baseball games, and general hullabaloo. The members of the Infantry consisted solely of boys from eight to twelve years old and the scrapes they got themselves into, both when they were being useful and when they were not, rivaled those of the Cavalry. 

Lissie seemed to vanish in those early days of the war. From time to time she would show up at the local Red Cross sewing circles, pale and hollow-eyed. She would sit in the corner and sew, saying nothing and looking at no one. She kept working at Dillinger’s Dry Goods, but she was as silent there as she was anywhere else. She no longer greeted customers warmly as they entered the store, or offered to help them as they browsed the shelves. She stayed in the background like a nervous shadow, doing her work and minding her own business and nobody else’s. As soon as anyone mentioned the war, she would clamp her mouth shut and drop her head, silent signals that she would not participate in the following conversation. Most people assumed that she was only worrying over Ronnie, no one, not even her family, knowing what had happened between them. But she wouldn’t talk about him either and this puzzled those who tried to worry the truth out of her. She seemed to have died inside of herself. And no one knew why. 

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"It's too quiet around here," Emma sighed, sinking into a chair in the hospital's staff room. Rhonda grinned at her, flipping open her lunch box.

"That's what makes it easy." She unwrapped her sandwich and laid it out on the table in front of her. "I mean… what do you expect? A riot? I doubt the patients are up to even a small protestation. They're supposed to be resting… quietly."

"I know." Emma propped her chin in her hands, ignoring her own sandwich. "I just feel like I'm not accomplishing anything. I mean… our men are over there, dying for this war. And me? I'm stitching up cuts and taking out swollen appendices. Nothing new. Nothing special. Nothing… to help our country and our soldiers." 

Josh's encouragement was constantly at the forefront of her mind. It almost served to make her feel even more guilty. Why was she stalling? 

"You're doing what you're paid to do," Rhonda shrugged. "That's all you can do."

"It's not," Emma murmured. Her eyes drifted for the thousandth time to the poster on the wall. 

"Graduate nurses," it proclaimed in large red letters. "Your country needs you." Below it a new poster had been added… bearing a picture of a nurse bending over a wounded soldier. The words seemed to speak straight to Emma's heart, as loud as if someone were standing next to her and yelling in her ear. 

"Save his life and find your own."

She felt a surge of adrenaline at those words, and she lifted her chin, her eyes flashing. She had been thinking about it, praying about it, worrying about it for so long… why wait any longer? Nothing was ever accomplished by sitting around and waiting. She would find the courage to do it… force it out of herself and push forward to accomplish her goal. She would do it now. Today. This very instant.

She rose so abruptly that her lunchbox slid from her lap and clattered to the floor. Mashed potatoes spilled out with broken cookies. Emma bent to scoop up the mess automatically and turned swiftly to the door.

"Hey wait a minute, girl!" Rhonda called after her. "Where’re ya going?"

"To do what I should have done in the beginning."

Emma paused in her rush towards the main entrance only once, stopping at the reception desk. She unpinned her nameplate and tossed it along with her cap and stethoscope onto the desk.

"I'm quitting," she informed the startled receptionist.

"What do you… why? What are you doing?"

"I'm joining the army," Emma grinned, saluting as she swept briskly out the door.

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Sergeant McFarland stood watching as his recruits raced past, clambering over the wooden obstacles at record pace. He was proud of them. Only a few short weeks and they were shaping up quickly. Some of them were extra promising. Pity they were only basic infantry. 

“Got yourself some first-rate men out there, Sergeant,” Major Donahue stepped up to the obstacle course, nodding in approval. McFarland saluted and agreed, pointing out the two men who stayed just ahead of the others.

“Those are my best, Sir. It’s always a match race between those two when they run the course. Good potential there.”

The two men who had been pointed out were climbing the last obstacle. The man in front lost his footing for a moment, slipping back as he nearly fell, but he caught himself and pushed on. The other man had run ahead, but he caught up and they finished the sprint across the finish line almost neck and neck. 

“Very good,” Donahue nodded. “Who are they?”

“Private Stewart and Private Scott, Sir.” 

“You’d do well to put them in charge of drilling the men from time to time. Excellent experience, especially if something happens to you or your corporal in battle. They’ll know how to take over if they have to.”

“Private Stewart has drilled the men several times. He shows excellent qualities of leadership.”

“Perhaps then he’ll get a commission sometime,” Donahue smiled. “Excellent work, McFarland. Carry on.”

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