Rose of Anzio - Jalousie (Volume 2): A WWII Epic Love Story

by Alexa Kang

He curled up a bit more under the blanket.

  "I'm on a break now. I brought you orange juice again. Would you sit up and have some?"

  He didn't respond, but she took it as a positive sign that he didn't refuse. "I'll leave it here then. I'll let you rest." She put the juice on the cabinet next to his bed and started to walk away.

  "Please don't go." he said, his voice faint and muffled under the blanket.

  "All right." She halted. "How can I help you?"

  "I can't move."

  "You can't move? Do you feel pain anywhere? Shall I get the doctor for you?"

  "I can't get up. I can't get out of bed. I want to hide and disappear."

  From his voice, she could hear him weeping. She didn't know what to do except to sit down and stay with him for the remainder of her break.

  After work, Tessa remained at the hospital searching for answers in the medical library. Two hours later, she still hadn't found anything. How could it be that none of the books said anything about Ron's condition? There was no mention of his ailment in any medical journal, let alone a diagnosis.

  "Tessa? You're still here?"

  Tessa looked up. It was Ellie. Ellie picked up one of the medical books on the table and read its title.

  "I'm trying to find out what's wrong with Ron Castile," Tessa said. "I've been looking for hours. I can't find anything. Nothing at all."

  "Everyone said there is nothing wrong with him." Ellie sat down across the table.

  "It doesn't matter what everyone says. Something is wrong." Tessa closed the book she was reading. "You can see that, can't you?"

  Ellie gave her a sympathetic smile.

  "What will happen to him if they release him like this?" Tessa asked.

  Ellie didn't answer. She didn't know either.

  "We have to find out what's wrong with him and help him before they make him leave," Tessa said. "Will you help me? There's a section of books about mental illness over there that I haven't looked at yet."

  Ellie looked over to the section where Tessa was pointing. "Of course." She nodded. "I'll help. Let's ask Sarah too. Maybe she can cheer him up."

  "That's a good idea!" Sarah's endless blather would probably work better to cheer Ron up than Tessa herself sitting with him in silence.

  They were wrong. Ron didn't want Sarah's company, nor Ellie's. At break time the next morning, Tessa brought Ellie and Sarah along to visit Ron, hoping his spirits would rise if he saw more that people cared about him. But when he saw Tessa coming with other nurses, he cowered into hiding under his blanket. Helpless, the three nurses looked at each other. Ellie and Sarah could do nothing except leave.

  "It's okay, Ron." Tessa patted his shoulder. "They're gone now."

  His body relaxed under the blanket. She sat down on the chair beside him. Although he was calm now, this was not a solution. Her sitting here in silence would not make him better. She tried to say something, but couldn't think of what. She wasn't a talker to begin with. She couldn't carry on a conversation by herself like Sarah.

  She tried to think of what to do. Tommy, the not-funny joker who "lost his guts," tossed the newspaper he was reading to the end of his bed. It gave her an idea. "May I?" she asked Tommy.

  "Go ahead," Tommy said as he picked up a magazine.

  She opened the newspaper and scoured it. So many stories and reports on the war. She glanced at Ron. These stories would not do. She flipped through more pages. Movies! What movies were showing? Sergeant York. Maybe not. Caught in the Draft. No. They Died with their Boots On! Dear God! No. These won't do either.

  She flipped a few more pages. "Zielinski and the Chicago Symphony Brought Beethoven to New Heights." It was a review of the Chicago Symphony's performance last night.

  "Ron," she asked. "Do you like Beethoven?"

  He didn't answer. She continued anyway. "Old Ludwig's Fifth Symphony finally received the treatment he deserved with the buoyant performance at the direction of guest conductor Viktor Zielinski yesterday evening." She checked on him, then read on. "Too often, this gem has been ruined by its own grandeur, as conductor after conductor repeated with the same tired seriousness…" She proceeded to read the entire article out loud while eyeing him every now and then. The blanket slipped from his head, revealing part of his face. "It was refreshing to hear Zielinski push the tempos and toss the motives…"

  She glanced at him again. For the first time since she met him, his mind looked to be in the present. The article had caught a hold of him. It was bringing him out of the horrific world in which he was trapped.

  She read on, careful not to alter her tone or rhythm in case she might lose him. But inside, she could hardly sit still. She couldn't wait to tell Ellie and Dr. Donovan about this.

  6

  February 13, 1943

  Dear Anthony,

  Words cannot describe how happy I was when I received your first letter. I miss you so much. You are so silly to think the letters you write have to be romantic. The truth is, I am happy to see your words no matter what you write. Every day, every moment you are away, my heart is empty. Your words and letters are the only things that can fill that emptiness.

  I don't care whether you are a hero or not a hero. Perhaps the world thinks of all the men fighting in the war as brave heroes, but when I look around at the wounded veterans at the hospital every day, my first thought is never whether they are heroes. I see victims. Men who are caught in an uncontrollable catastrophe and suffering for it. I look at them and I fear what might happen to you. I hope and pray you will return home safe. That is all that matters. I only wish to have your arms around me again.

  I hate this war. I hate that it's taken you away from me.

  Anyway, your letter was romantic. At least it was to me. You said such nice and beautiful things about me. I tell you, my patients would definitely disagree with you. They call me the Ice Queen behind my back. They think I don't know, but I do.

  I can't stop thinking about you whenever I'm alone. I'm so glad for the Liebestraum poster you gave me. Every night, I stare at it while I'm in bed. I pretend you are in the room with me, then I can fall asleep and dream of you.

  Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. I wish you were here.

  I'm always with you in spirit. My heart follows you wherever you go.

  — Love, Tessa

  Tessa folded the letter into the envelope. Funny he said he did not know how to write a love letter. She didn't exactly have a way with words either. She hoped her letter sounded uplifting enough. His life at training camp sounded tough, and she wanted him to think happy thoughts of his girl waiting for him at home. Good thing he couldn't see how upset she looked now, thinking of him. Being away from him hurt. It hurt even more than being away from her parents. Every night when she read his letter, her heart ached.

  Seeing injured veterans at the hospital every day didn't help. They reminded her constantly of what could happen to Anthony. What if he came back maimed like them? What if he came back mentally destroyed like Ron Castile?

  She pressed her hand against her forehead. These thoughts could drive her insane. She needed to stop thinking.

  Ron. She must help Ron. He had to heal. She had to keep hope alive, for herself and for everyone. It was the only way they could get through this war.

  That was it. She would fight this war her own way. She would not let this war ruin the people around her, including Ron.

  But how? She had exhausted all avenues and resources at hand. No one at the hospital had any more ideas what they could do for him. She wondered if the doctors in England might know more. They had been at war longer than the Americans. Could they know things the Americans didn't?

  Maybe her mother would know.

  She picked up the pen and started writing again.

  February 13, 1943

  Dear Mother,

  I hope you are well. How is Father? Have you been busy at the hospital? I have been entirely preoccupied with a new case myself. In fact, I wonder if you could hel
p me.

  We have a new patient. His name is Ron Castile and he is a Marine Corps captain. He has been with us for several weeks. He has no physical injuries, all of his war wounds healed before he came to our hospital. His mind, however, is in a very bad state. Most of the time, he is in a daze. When he is more alert, his memories are fragmented. He thinks he was shot in the back, but he was not. Still, he complains of back and hip pains where he thought he was shot, and he says he cannot walk.

  I don't know what to make of it. When he first arrived, he slept all night on the hospital's concrete floor and refused to sleep in his bed. It took a Herculean effort to convince him to rest properly in his bed. Even then, all he wanted to do was to hide under his blanket. He said he didn't deserve to be a part of this world. It is awfully sad to see him like this. From the look of his body, I can tell he was once a tough, strong Marine captain.

  He and I have a routine now. Every day during my break at eleven-thirty, I visit him and read to him. If I don't go, he becomes very frightened. I bring him a glass of orange juice each time and he seems to like that. He is calmer when things are consistent and stable.

  I wish I could do more. The doctors aren't taking his case seriously enough. They diagnosed his condition as war neurosis, or battle fatigue. But since his condition is not life threatening, they assume he will recover on his own and they aren't doing much to help him.

  Have you ever seen anything like this? Are there similar cases with the soldiers and veterans you see in London? I tried to search for information but came up with nothing. If you have any ideas or advice, please write and let me know.

  On a brighter note, we finally heard from Anthony. His letters arrived earlier this week. That made Uncle William and Aunt Sophia very happy. This whole situation has been very difficult for them. It's been difficult for Uncle Leon and his family too. The house feels dreary and empty without Anthony. I don't know why that is, because he wasn't around much either while he was at the university. But now, we really feel his absence. Odd, isn't it? Uncle William and Aunt Sophia took me in to keep me safe, but they have to send their son to war. It is so unfair.

  I hope you are not too lonely while Father is on tour again. Please give him my best when he returns to London. I will write again soon. I miss you both.

  — Love, Tessa

  She laid down the pen. Should she tell her mother she and Anthony were seeing each other? She couldn't bring herself to write about such things to her parents. What would she write? Dear Mother, Anthony and I are now in love…No! That would be so embarrassing. I met a nice young man…But she didn't meet him. She had known him for almost two years. She wondered if Uncle William and Aunt Sophia might tell them.

  And her father. How could she tell him such things? He was always protective of her. He probably wouldn't take the news very well.

  She glanced at the letter she wrote to Anthony.

  What would they think if they knew of her plan to follow Anthony to war?

  No doubt, they would be shocked. They wouldn't want her to go. Better keep that a secret for as long as possible.

  She tucked the letter into her purse along with her letter to Anthony and took them to the post office.

  7

  Late afternoon one day, while Tessa was assisting with the preparations for a surgical procedure in an operating room, Sarah Brinkman came running in looking for her. "Ron Castile is demanding to see you," Sarah said. "He woke up from a nightmare and asked to see you. When we told him you were busy and couldn't come, he started throwing a fit. You need to come and calm him down."

  The nurse in charge came over to them. "Can't you give him sedatives? I need Tessa's help here."

  "No one could go near him," Sarah said. "He's yelling and crying. One of the attendants tried to give him a shot of sedative and he punched him."

  The nurse shook her head in exasperation. "All right, go. Go."

  Tessa put down the surgical equipment and followed Sarah to Ron's ward. Even in the hallway before they got to the ward's entrance, they could hear Ron shouting. Inside, a group of nurses and attendants, including Ellie, surrounded him while he cowered in a corner on the floor with his arms covering his head. Tessa pushed her way through them to Ron.

  "Tessa," Ellie said. "Be careful."

  Tessa ignored her and came close to him. He was hyperventilating. "Ron?"

  His breathing slowed and his arms dropped slightly.

  "Ron, it's me." She leaned in closer. "You asked for me. I'm here."

  He lowered his arms and gazed at her. "I thought you wouldn't come back."

  "What a ridiculous idea. Why wouldn't I come back? I work here." She turned her head and signaled the others to move back, then said to him, "Come on. Let's get you back in your bed." She lifted him by the arm. Still disoriented, he nonetheless got up.

  In the bed, he held on to her hand. "Don't go away." He said it like a small child pleading with his parents not to leave him.

  "I'm not going away. I'm right here." She let go of his hand and put a blanket over him. Quietly, Ellie handed her a needle filled with sedative. "I'm giving you a shot. Okay?" Tessa said to him. "It'll make you feel better."

  Once he calmed down, the other nurses and attendant left, leaving only Ellie and Sarah with them. Moments later, the sedative started to work and Ron fell asleep.

  "You're the only one he trusts," Sarah said.

  "I don't understand," Tessa said. "Why me? You're a much warmer person than I am. He should've befriended you instead. Or Ellie. Ellie is nicer than me and she has more experience than either of us."

  "But you were the first person to reach out to him," Ellie said. "His mind's fallen apart. You're the only constant thing he can hold on to."

  Tessa sighed. Ron was deep asleep now, languishing on the bed. "I wish we knew how to treat him. How could someone who had won two purple hearts and is decorated with so many awards become so broken?"

  Neither Ellie nor Sarah had any answers.

  On her way out, the nurses and attendants who had been at the scene earlier were still in the hallway talking about Ron.

  "… they should transfer him to a private room. He's disturbing all the other patients," one of them said.

  "Or discharge him. I've never seen a grown man behave like such a crybaby," another one answered.

  "They can't discharge him yet. His father's an army general. The general only has to give an order…"

  Annoyed, Tessa turned the other way and left.

  The events of the day had drained every last bit of energy out of Tessa. But when she returned home, she found the excitement of the day hadn't ended yet. In the parlor, she came upon the shocking sight of Aunt Sophia kneeling on the floor peeking under the sofa. She had never seen her aunt in such an unladylike position.

  From under the couch, a little ball of orange fur darted out, crying, "Meow!' and jumped on top of the piano, then back on the floor and snuck under the liquor cabinet. Aunt Sophia got up and wiped the dust off the front of her trousers. "That little devil."

  "Where did it come from?" Tessa asked.

  "William brought her home this morning. I can't get her to come out of hiding." She kneeled down on the floor again and tried to coax the kitten to come out from beneath the liquor cabinet.

  "Maybe you should let her be for a while. She'll come out when she's more familiar with this place."

  "I suppose." Sophia gave up. "But I can't let her run around without supervision. What if she messes things up while I'm not looking?"

  Tessa smiled and didn't say anything. Although Sophia sounded like she was complaining, Tessa could tell by the happy look on Sophia's face that what she really wanted was to play with the kitten.

  "Does she have a name?" Tessa asked.

  "Muffin."

  "Muffin?"

  "She looks like a muffin…oh, there she goes!" The kitten darted out from under the liquor cabinet and out of the parlor. Aunt Sophia ran after it. Tessa followed her to the parlor ent
rance and watched her chase Muffin. This was the liveliest Aunt Sophia had been since Anthony left. Uncle William sure knew the right medicine to cheer her up.

  While she watched her aunt, Uncle William opened the door and walked into the house. "I'm home."

  "Uncle William," Tessa greeted him.

  "You're back?" Uncle William took off his coat and hung it in the coat closet.

  "I don't have night class or night shift today."

  "They're finally giving you an evening off, huh?" He went to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a drink. "This Cadet Nurse Program sure is demanding. I don't remember you being so busy last fall."

  "Mmmm…yes…it's all right. I'm learning a lot," Tessa mumbled. She didn't want to talk about her classes or her work in case it raised any suspicions about what she had been doing at the hospital. They would be so alarmed if they found out she was training to serve overseas. She changed the subject. "You gave Aunt Sophia a cat? It's raising hell. Aunt Sophia's chasing it all over the house."

  Uncle William laughed. "Is that so? I'm glad to hear it." He took a sip of his brandy. "Sounds to me like the beginning of a wonderful friendship."

  "Here, kitty kitty. Here, kitty kitty…" They could hear Aunt Sophia trying to lure the kitten from the den.

  "Come here," Uncle William said to her. "Sit down and tell me how you've been lately."

  She took a seat next to him.

  "How are you doing?" It was a casual question, but from his concerned tone, she knew what he was asking her about.

  "It's hard," she said. "I miss him." She looked down to the floor.

  "I know."

  "It must be worse for you and Aunt Sophia."

  "It's been tough on all of us," Uncle William admitted, "but your Aunt Sophia and I take a lot of comfort in knowing that you care for him."

  "Me?" She looked up, puzzled. "I don't understand."