“Um, I don’t know. I guess I’ve just been at camp a long time, so I know the ropes.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, Major. And don’t be modest. I’m promoting you to Administration. You’ll be in charge of operations here -- officially instead of unofficially.”
“Pardon me? But that’s Lou-- ... that’s Sergeant Richards’s job.”
“Used to be. He’s been transferred.”
Sal’s eyes widened. This was the first she’d heard about that. “Transferred? To where?”
“Stateside. Between you, me, and the wall, he did some things he shouldn’t have done -- abuse of powers and so forth -- so ... he got bumped back down to Private.”
“Private?” Sal knew that getting a demotion would kill Louis. He was always so class-conscious, constantly pulling rank on whoever he could. “What did he say?”
“He said some things I won’t repeat in front of a lady. Truth is, he should have kissed my boots for sending him back to the U.S. instead of to the Front. ”
“I’m surprised ... I wonder why ... he didn’t say goodbye.” Even though their romantic relationship was over, there was history between them and Sal felt a little wistful.
“Ah, even if he wanted to, there was no time. He got his orders and had to leave immediately. ... So, Major, here we are.”
Once the initial shock wore off, Sal was elated. She was being offered a job that had always been held by a man. She knew she was capable. She knew she could do a better job than Louis did. Heck, she did his job for him half the time. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to give up nursing. Still, this opportunity was too good to pass up. “Wait. I can’t be an administrator and head nurse. I mean I’m good, but I’m not that good.”
Bill laughed. “Name your replacement.”
“Really? I can appoint the new head nurse? Will you have to approve my choice?”
“Nope. Truth is, I’m out of here too.”
“What???”
“I’ve been promoted and I’m being transferred to London for the duration. New Colonel starts next week. Name is John Whiting. And if you think I’m tough, you ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Chapter 85
Cathy sat on the grass, leaning against the tree -- their tree, the tree that Michael carved their initials on. She came here all the time, before he died, and every day since.
~~~~~~~~
David and Sal had to pry Cathy off of Michael the day he died. Michael used the last of his strength to squeeze her hand as tight as he could. He was telling her that he didn’t want to let go. And she didn’t want to let him go. She couldn’t.
When she finally did let go, this is where she came. She ran out of the hospital, through the Quad, and into the woods. She rested her forehead against the tree and hugged it while crying her eyes out. Cathy slid to the ground and couldn’t stop crying. She didn’t even know she had so many tears to cry. It was no use even trying to control her emotions. The anguish she felt was overwhelming.
When she felt a pair of arms encircle her, her first thought was that it was Michael. But it wasn’t. It was a young nurse named Mary, someone she barely knew, and she was crying too. Soon, they were joined by Kay, Suze, and finally Maggie. The five women sat on the grass beside Cathy and Michael’s special tree. They held onto each other and they cried. And they shared their sorrow -- not only for Michael, but for all the boys who fought and died on D-Day and on the days leading up to it. And they cried for the innocence they had all lost. Their lives would go on, but nothing would ever be the same again.
Even though she watched Michael die, it was so hard for her to reconcile it in her mind. Because in her mind, he was still so very much alive, holding her hand and taking walks into the woods, talking for hours, teaching her to kiss, teaching her to love. Cathy used to wonder why Michael fell in love with someone like her. She often wondered why, out of all the people on earth, she was lucky enough to have someone as extraordinary as Michael come into her life. Now she was left to wonder why he was taken away from her. She knew that someday their child was going to wonder why too. And Cathy didn't think she would ever have an answer.
Cathy continued her vigils by the tree every day since then. She could feel Michael’s spirit here, and she talked to him just like she did on those days when they would lie on the ground, look up to the heavens, and chatter away endlessly.
She talked to him a lot about the baby she was carrying. She estimated that he or she would be born in January, about six months from now. The baby had become very important to Cathy because, for the first time in her life, she would have a family.
Sitting under the tree day after day, she made plans for their future -- hers and their child’s. And she vowed to give their baby the love she never got as a child.
She also told Michael something she was never able to say to his face -- she told him that she loved him. She felt an ache in the pit of her stomach every time she thought about all those chances she never took, all those words left unsaid, all those missed opportunities to say what was in her heart. She would regret it to the day she dies. If she learned anything from all this, it was not to let those golden chances pass you by. Michael deserved to know how she felt about him, and now, he never would.
A few days earlier, when she was talking to Michael’s spirit at their spot by the tree, telling him how much she loved him and how sorry she was that she never told him, she could have sworn she heard his voice. She could have sworn she heard him say the words “I know.” It was probably just the sound of the summer breeze, just the noise the wind makes when the rest of the world is quiet and still, but in her heart, she believed that it was Michael speaking to her.
~~~~~
Cathy’s thoughts were broken by a man’s voice. “I thought I might find you here,” he said.
She looked up to find David standing over her. He held out his hands to help her to her feet. “You were looking for me?”
“I went to the Commissary and Maggie told me I’d probably find you here,” David said. “I wanted to tell you something. I submitted your discharge papers. They just need to be approved.”
Cathy nodded and looked back toward the tree. “I’m not sure I want to leave.”
“I understand. But, you don’t want your baby born here, Cathy.”
Cathy managed a smile. “Maybe you could be the one to deliver my baby.”
David smiled back. “Well, I won’t be here either. My tour of duty will be over by the end of the year. But Cathy,” David took her hands again. “You should be around people who care about you when your baby is born. It’s time to go home.”
Cathy looked at David and felt the tears stinging her eyes. The only place that ever felt like home -- the only place where people ever cared about her -- was here. She nodded. “Home.”
Chapter 86
In the days and weeks following Michael’s death, Mary wanted to shrivel up and die. She couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she would see them -- his eyes, that pained and desperate look on his face, and the fleeting glint in his eye when she reminded him of the day they met.
In the moment it was happening, there wasn’t a whole lot of time to consider the rights and wrongs of the issue. He asked for her help, she had access and opportunity, so she gave him the means to an end. To the end. She felt like she was doing the right thing. It was what he wanted, what he begged her for. And taking the drugs was his choice, she kept telling herself. She didn’t force him to swallow the pills.
No, but she sure made it easy. God, he even thanked her for murdering him!
Then there was Cathy. Mary witnessed Michael’s reaction when Cathy arrived at his side. For a moment, the spark of life rekindled in his eyes. Even dying, you could see he loved her. Everyone who was there saw it. They all saw the heartbreaking scene play out before them.
And they heard it. Everyone heard Cathy tell Michael she was having his baby. Mary had no idea Michael was going to be a father. She wondered time and ti
me again whether knowing that information beforehand would have changed her actions that day. Would it have made a difference? Mary covered her ears, but that didn’t block out the thoughts that played over and over and over in her mind like a Victrola needle skipping on a record album.
And she also kept hearing herself screaming at Michael the day she found out he was in love with someone else, the day she told him that he’d better not show up in the infirmary again, because she just might let him die next time.
Oh God. She wanted it to stop so badly. She even considered taking a handful of pills herself, just to make the unending horror go away. Just to find peace. She was only 18 and the thought of living with this torture every day for the rest of her life was unbearable.
She didn’t tell anyone what she’d done, although she came close. She almost told Kay one day. She needed to unburden herself, but before she could, they got interrupted.
In the days that followed, she was completely caught off-guard when friendship came from an unexpected source. Ned Jansen heard what happened; the whole base heard that Michael wound up at the surgical unit and that he died there, and that Mary had been his attending nurse. Ned knew that Mary cared about Michael, so he offered his support. He seemed to understand the hell she was going through, and he became a good friend to her.
Mary was lost in thought as usual while sanitizing the day’s surgical instruments. She didn’t even notice when Sal came in, trying to get her attention.
“Earth to Mary. Nurse Clayton, yoo hoo.”
Mary blinked to clear her thoughts. “Sorry Major Bradley. I was lost in thought.”
“I can see that. Finish what you’re doing here and meet me in Sergeant Richards’s office. We need to talk.”
Sal walked away and Mary was left to wonder what Sal wanted to talk about. Sergeant Richards’s office? Was the truth finally about to come out? Did the Sergeant know that Mary killed a man? And if so, what punishment would the Army mete out to Mary?
Chapter 87
“No bastard ever won a war by dying for his country. He won it by making the other poor dumb bastard die for his country.”
-- General George S. Patton
About fifteen minutes later, Mary arrived in Sergeant Richards office. She was surprised to see Sal sitting at the Sergeant’s desk.
“Have a seat, Clayton.”
Mary took a seat and looked around. “Where’s Sergeant Richards?”
Sal looked up from some forms she was filling out. “He’s gone. I’m the new him.”
Mary’s jaw dropped. “For real? But how?”
“Not important. What is important ... what you need to know is that I’m the new him, and you’re the new me.”
Puzzled, Mary knit her brow. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
“I took Sergeant Richards’s position and I’m appointing you to the role of head nurse. You’re being promoted to Sergeant Major with a raise in pay grade and an increase in responsibility.”
Mary felt like she was going to fall off her chair. She shook herself. “But ... no, that can’t be. I mean ... me? You can’t be serious.”
Sal sighed heavily. “Clayton, do I ever joke? If you know anything about me by now, you know I’m always serious.”
Mary was having a hard time comprehending this information. She was no leader. She was totally wrong for the job. “I ... I don’t know what to say. I mean, can I say ‘no’?”
“Only if you’re an idiot,” Sal retorted. “But since you’re not, I know you won’t turn down the opportunity.”
Mary leaned forward in her chair. “Major Bradley, I ... I don’t deserve a promotion. I haven’t ....”
“I disagree, Clayton. I wouldn’t give a promotion to someone who didn’t deserve one. Your work reflects directly on me, and I know you can handle it. I’ve watched how you interact with patients, with the doctors and other nurses. You’ve really impressed me, and that’s not an easy feat.”
Mary looked down at her lap and spoke quietly. “I remember that you once told me I’d have to do things I never thought I was capable of. Well ... you were right. I have.” She looked at Sal and she knew she couldn’t accept this promotion under false pretenses. She swallowed hard. “I have a confession to make. It’s about what happened on D-Day.”
“Stop right there.” Sal cut her off unceremoniously. “I know what you’re going to say, Clayton.”
Mary blinked several times. Sal knows? “You mean, you know?”
“I know everything that goes on under my watch. And if you’re talking about the way you handled Private Zacharius, then you should pat yourself on the back. Or at least, cut yourself some slack.”
Mary shook her head vigorously. “I don’t think you understand, Major.”
“Look, I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again. War is hell. And it’s our job to take care of our patients. Do you remember when I told you that you had to toughen up? Well, you have.” Mary started to say something, but Sal cut her off again. “Yes, Zacharius died, but I knew the minute he was brought into triage that he wasn’t going to live much longer. You were kind to him, and you made his last moments on this earth a little more comfortable.” Sal looked at the clock on the wall. “I have another meeting in a few minutes, so I need you to clear out of here.” Sal stood and extended her hand to Mary. “Congratulations, Sergeant Major Clayton.”
~~~~~~~~
Mary left the administrative building and walked across the Quad toward the hospital. She felt different somehow, like her life had just been re-set.
As she entered the hospital, she wasn’t even aware she was wearing a little smile on her face, but Ned noticed it right away and it made him smile too.
“You look like the cat that ate the canary,” he commented. “What’s going on?”
“Ned, you won’t believe this,” Mary said in a high-pitched voice that threatened to turn into a squeal. “I got a promotion. Me! Mary Nobody Clayton got a promotion.”
Ned laughed with delight and put his arms around Mary. He lifted her off her feet and twirled her around and around. Mary giggled. She felt exhilarated, and she finally realized what was different. She felt lighter, like a weight was lifted from her shoulders. This was the first time she smiled in a month and it felt good. It was time for life to go on.
Chapter 88
Standing in the entranceway of the administrative building, Cathy perused the names of the dead on the bulletin board. She didn’t really want to see Michael’s name, but there it was, standing out from among the rest as if a spotlight were trained on it. Michael Zacharius - Died June 6, 1944. Gently, she ran a finger across his name, wishing she could just cross it off the list.
As she touched his name, she put her hand on her stomach. Her pregnancy wasn’t showing much yet, but she could feel it. This baby had come to mean everything to her. She felt so grateful that she got the chance to tell Michael about the baby before he died, yet she wished with all her heart that it could have been a private moment, just between the two of them. Now, everyone on base knew she was expecting a baby and she hated being the subject of gossip. She was such a private person, and it made her feel so exposed.
She wiped a tear or two with the back of her hand and told herself it didn’t matter anymore. She would be leaving the 1044th very soon anyway. She turned and walked down the corridor and prepared herself for a confrontation with Sergeant Louis Richards. She was called to his office, probably to receive her approved discharge papers, but she planned to give the Sergeant the full force of her fury before she left.
Cathy emboldened herself as she entered the administrator’s office. “Be right with you,” said a female voice that came from behind a file cabinet. Cathy was stunned when Sal emerged, looking at a file folder.
“Here’s what I was looking for. Your file. ... Cathy Lang.” Sal looked up at Cathy who was still standing in the doorway. “Come on in, Lang. Take a seat.”
Cathy sat down in a chair facing Sal’s desk, h
er brow knit in puzzlement. “Are you helping the Sergeant with paperwork today?”
“You mean Richards? No, he’s gone. I’m the administrative officer now. Let’s see.” Sal shuffled some papers in the file folder. “Says you’re being discharged in a couple days. ... Medical reasons. ... Dr. Mason authorized it.” She looked up at Cathy. “Everything seems in order. I just need to sign and approve this.”
Cathy sat quietly and looked down at her hands as Sal scrawled her signature on one form, then another, then another.
“You’re from Missouri, right? St. Louis? Is that where you’re going from here?”
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