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Kitty's War

Page 33

by Barbara Whitaker


  She reached the final landing trying to figure out how Betty had talked her into going. It wasn’t the possibility that General Eisenhower and General Bailey would attend. More likely it was the prospect of seeing General Doolittle again. She’d met him once, or more correctly she’d been taking notes in a meeting he attended. Nevertheless, she was impressed. Maybe it was her soft spot for the Air Force. She’d been away from it for months, yet she still felt connected to the fly boys.

  Memories of Ted and shot up planes skidding off the runway combined and caused her to catch her breath. No. It was just the climb. Four flights always took her breath.

  She entered the room she shared with three other WACs and headed for the makeshift closet where they hung their uniforms. Her section was on the far left where everything got smashed against the wall.

  She pulled out her uniform dress and held it up to her. It had been months since she had tried on the dress, and she could tell it would hang loose on her now. She’d lost so much weight, and she hadn’t bothered to take it up. She never wore it anyway.

  That meant her good uniform would have to do. At least she’d ironed her best blouse the last time she did laundry. Problem was she didn’t have a decent pair of stockings.

  She heard Betty coming in.

  “Betty, can I borrow a pair of stockings?”

  “Sure,” the girl replied. She threw a bundle on Kitty’s bed. “Looks like the mail is catching up again. We both got a bunch.”

  “Thanks for bringing it up.” Kitty laid out her skirt to determine if it needed to be pressed. She grabbed the bulky bundle by the string and placed it on the table out of her way.

  Betty dug through her foot locker. She pulled out a small paper bag and tossed it at Kitty. “That’s my emergency pair.” She went to the closet to get out her clothes for the evening. “You owe me one,” she said over her shoulder.

  “Thanks.” Kitty smiled, glad to have Betty for a roommate.

  Kitty thought of Madge. Her last letter said she had been transferred to Belgium. At least that’s how Kitty had interpreted the ‘code.’ She glanced over at the bundle of letters and wondered if she’d gotten one from Madge.

  Betty went to the bathroom, and Kitty took advantage of the moments alone to undo the bundle. She spread the letters out on the bed looking only at the return addresses. One from home, two from Milton. She picked up one of Milton’s and started to open it when something else caught her eye.

  It looked like a post card. She reached out and moved it with the tips of her fingers. That was strange. It had German printing on it. She picked it up. The original hand-printed address was to Second Wing Headquarters in Ellingham. It was marked through as was High Wycombe and London.

  When had this been mailed? And who was it from?

  She turned it over and saw the signature.

  Her breath caught. Her heart stopped.

  She froze.

  Ted.

  She blinked, again, then again. She gasped, trying to catch her breath.

  It can’t be. It can’t…

  A chill ran up her spine.

  She sank down on the edge of the bed. Her eyes flew to the words written on the small card.

  “I’m alive… I love you…”

  She couldn’t see through the tears. She blinked frantically. She gasped for breath again.

  “How?” she heard herself ask.

  “What?” Betty stood over her.

  Kitty looked up. The shock must have been evident on her face.

  “What’s wrong?” Betty asked.

  She couldn’t speak. She just looked at the card. It was like holding a message from the grave. From a ghost…

  Betty took the card from her hand and looked it over. She read the message aloud.

  Sept. 12, 1944

  Kitty,

  I am alive and thinking of you. I’m here in this camp and making it okay. It is a miracle that I am here, but no more miracle than the day we met. The angel that pulled me from the waves threw me out of that plane and saw that I landed safely. Remember that I love you and that I will see you again. In the meantime, watch over me, my Angel.

  Ted

  Kitty’s heart began to pound. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Could he be alive? Could it be real?

  Betty turned the card over and read the return address.

  Second Lieutenant T. R. Kruger

  Gefangenennummer: 7213

  Lager-Bezeichnung: Stalag Luft 3

  Deutschland (Allemange)

  “It’s from Germany. That’s a POW camp. Who is this guy?”

  “Ted,” Kitty murmured. “He’s…” She couldn’t talk, couldn’t explain. Her body shook uncontrollably.

  “He’s your boyfriend, isn’t he?”

  Kitty nodded. My boyfriend. My love. She didn’t even try to stop the tears.

  Betty sank down on the bed and put her arm around Kitty’s shoulders. “You thought he was dead.”

  Kitty nodded, even though it hadn’t been a question. She leaned into Betty’s shoulder, covered her face with her hands, and sobbed. “He’s alive. He’s really alive.”

  Betty held her and patted her on the back to comfort her. Kitty realized she was squeezing the card so tight she might damage it, so she laid it on the bed with the rest of her mail. She wiped away the tears with the back of her hand and looked down at his careful printing.

  The corner of another card peeked out from underneath a letter. She pulled it out and realized it was a second card, almost identical to the first one. She quickly read his words and choked up again.

  October 8, 1944

  Kitty,

  I am still here in this camp and still thinking of you. Life is easier somehow when I think of you waiting for me. This is the second card I’ve sent. I hope you get it so you know I am alive and well. I don’t know how long it will be but know that one of these days I will see you again. I love you and miss you. Please write. I don’t know if I will get your letters but send them and maybe some will get through. Watch over me, my angel.

  Ted

  She picked up both cards and compared the dates. September 12, 1944, and October 8, 1944. It was the thirtieth of January. Almost four months ago he’d mailed the last one. Four months for the cards to reach her.

  Time stood still as she held them. A lifeline to Ted, so far away in a prisoner of war camp. He must have been there since last summer—and still there through the horrible winter. Fear gripped her.

  Oh God, let him be okay. Let him still be alive.

  Betty left her sitting on the bed, lost in memories.

  Sometime later Betty returned. “Come on, Kitty. We’ve got to get going.” Betty shook her as if trying to wake her from a deep sleep. “The boys are downstairs waiting.”

  “I don’t…”

  Betty pulled her to her feet. “You are going. No argument. Now let’s get you dressed.”

  In a few minutes they were descending the stairs, Ted’s cards in her bag. She’d keep them with her always. They were her connection to him, to life, to the future, to any hope of happiness.

  She drifted through the evening wanting to tell everyone she met that he was alive. She didn’t, of course. Only in her mind. But that night, for the first time in ages, her smile was real. She laughed and chatted and, yes, even danced.

  He’s alive!

  She had to celebrate, even if she and Betty were the only ones who knew why.

  ****

  By March the Allies had fought their way into Germany all along the front. The Germans stubbornly refused to surrender and defended their homeland like madmen.

  Kitty typed reports, hundreds of them. She found herself reading more, trying to understand what was going on in the war. She especially watched for anything related to POWs.

  On a short leave in Paris, she went to the displaced persons section hoping to learn something about prison camps and their liberation. Other than learning the locations of the various POW camps, she gleaned little. All the
information coming out of Germany was confused and inconsistent. Only a few freed French slave laborers had made their way back to Paris.

  Near the beginning of the month, Patton’s army crossed the Rhine on a bridge the Germans forgot to blow up. Soon pontoon bridges stretched across Germany’s last line of defense, and Allied troops poured into the heart of Germany.

  By April horrible, unbelievable reports poured in of concentration camps and their emaciated, mistreated occupants. After reading one report, she got sick and ran for the bathroom where she threw up her breakfast. A fear gripped her. Fear like she had never known. The report told of prisoners being executed by their guards only hours before the Americans arrived. It described the guards as desperate and brutal and merciless.

  She prayed for God to keep Ted safe.

  Surely there was some sanity left. Surely there were men who knew they were beaten, who wanted to live even if they had to surrender. Surely they wouldn’t kill the prisoners of war.

  Kitty’s only consolation was that most of the camps she read about were not military, not Air Force or Luftwaffe run camps. She hoped desperately that it made a difference.

  ****

  “I still can’t believe you’re here.” Kitty reached across the table and squeezed Madge’s hand.

  “Me either. At the last minute, Colonel Kessler gave in, and I was out of there before he could change his mind.” Madge flashed her signature smile, guaranteed to melt hearts.

  The two women sat in the sunshine at a table in a side-walk café in Paris.

  “How did you arrange to fly?”

  Madge gave a sly wink. “Oh, you know me. Used the old charm and in no time those boys were falling all over themselves to get me on board.”

  Kitty heard herself chuckle and realized it was the first time in a long time she’d really laughed. “I’m glad you came.”

  Madge straightened and turned to look in one direction then another. “A girl can’t come to Europe and not see Paris. It’s just not done.” Her voice mimicked a hoity-toity heiress from an old movie.

  Kitty laughed again. “You’re crazy.”

  “I know. But someone has to entertain you.” Her face turned serious. “You look good, Kitty. Too thin and too serious. In a way, you’re the same old Kitty. And in another way, you’re more grown up, more confident.”

  “I had to grow up. No one could be exposed to all this and not.”

  “And you’re happier because he’s alive.”

  Kitty nodded. Mentioning Ted still brought tears, but she choked them back. “Just knowing he’s alive. We were so sure he was dead. And now, well, it’s like he was reborn. Or maybe I was.”

  “Have you heard any more? How he got out of the plane?”

  Kitty shook her head. “No. Nothing. I got one more letter since I wrote you. But it says pretty much the same thing. That he’s okay and…well, I’m sure the mail is censored, so he can’t really say what it’s like. It was so cold back in the winter. And all these horrible reports.”

  “I know.” Madge took a sip of what passed for coffee, looking thoughtful. “I don’t suppose you’d let me see them. What he wrote, I mean.” She glanced at Kitty from under her long lashes.

  Kitty saw a glimpse of sadness, loneliness even. She looked away, hesitating. She didn’t want to share them, not with anyone. They were all she had. Yet she remembered how upset Madge had been, how they’d cried together. Madge had loved Ted, too. And she’d accepted that Ted loved Kitty. So maybe it wouldn’t hurt, just to let her see them.

  She reached for her bag hanging at her side. She opened it, slid out a brown envelope, and handed the envelope to Madge.

  “Oh, Kitty.” Madge’s voice almost broke when she took the envelope. She stared at it for a moment, then looked back at Kitty. “Are you sure?”

  Kitty nodded, her throat tight with emotion.

  The two cards and a folded letter slipped easily out of the envelope and into her friend’s hand. One by one she read them. Her face contorted as she fought the tears. “Oh, he does love you, a lot. I can hear it in his words.” A tear slid down her cheek, and she brushed it away. “You are the luckiest girl in the world.”

  “I know.”

  “And look. He sent them to Ellingham. No wonder it took so long for you to get them.”

  “Yes. I’ve written to him and given him my new address. But I don’t know if he’s gotten any of my letters. You see what he says.”

  “Those beasts. They may be prisoners, but they deserve to get mail. It’s hard enough not getting mail when you aren’t a prisoner.”

  Suddenly Kitty pitied Madge. She remembered that Madge never heard much from her family. Sometimes she went months without a letter. Madge may have had lots of boyfriends, but she didn’t have anyone who really cared about her.

  Madge put the cards back in the envelope and handed it back to Kitty. She had a far-away look about her. After a moment she reached into her pocket and pulled out her compact. As she checked her makeup and hair, the sadness melted away and the confident beauty returned.

  “Well, my friend, if we’re going to see Paris while we’re here, we better get started.” Kitty tucked Ted’s cards away in her bag and stood.

  “Are you going to be my tour guide?”

  “To tell you the truth, I haven’t seen much since I’ve been here. It’s only been a little over a week since my transfer to Displaced Persons.” Slinging her bag over her shoulder and adjusting her cap, Kitty smiled at her friend. “I guess we’ll have to explore together.”

  Madge slipped her arm through Kitty’s and grinned. “Let’s go. I’m sure we can find some nice boys to show us around.”

  Kitty laughed. Madge saw everything as an opportunity to meet men.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  April 29, 1945

  Ted stood among the crowd of prisoners as a line of Sherman tanks separated from the main body and slowly drove down the road beside the camp. His height allowed him to see more than some of the others.

  “What’s happening?” a shorter man asked.

  “They’re American tanks. Trucks and jeeps following them.”

  “Why don’t they hurry up?”

  “Probably making sure nobody is going to start shooting.”

  “Are they getting closer?”

  “Yeah.” Ted started when the lead tank crashed through the main gate and drove into the camp. “Damn!”

  “What? What?” the shorter man shouted.

  “They just plowed through the gate.”

  “They’re really here, aren’t they?” the man’s voice broke with emotion.

  “Yeah, they’re here. They’re finally here.” Ted’s throat tightened. He didn’t want to start coughing again. He’d been in and out of the hell-hole they called a hospital, and he sure didn’t want to go back. The damp spring weather with mud everywhere hadn’t helped.

  The officers tried to control the men as they surged toward their liberators. Emotions ran high. Men climbed up on the tanks and trucks. Others cheered.

  Ted hung back. His mind raced into the future, to a future he believed he would have. He’d find Kitty. And he’d hold her in his arms. He’d never let her out of his sight. They’d go home together. He’d take her to meet his grandparents. And he’d go to her hometown to meet her family. Then they’d have a big wedding. No. The wedding would come first. He’d marry her as soon as they could find someone to marry them. He had no doubt that she’d marry him, not after the time they’d spent together. She had to marry him. She’d kept him going, kept him alive.

  The celebration continued with hugs and cheers and spontaneous singing. The Americans distributed some food, mostly K-rations. And the medic’s checked out the prisoners who were in bad shape. The officers assured the prisoners that they would be evacuated as soon as possible. In the meantime they were told to stay put, within the camp, so they would be safe and could be processed. A matter of days, they said. After so long, it was unbelievable.

/>   Artillery fire came from the nearby town. Someone said the Germans had destroyed the river bridge and were firing from the opposite bank of the river. American troops continued to arrive. They stopped and rested outside the camp until they could continue their pursuit of the enemy.

  The next day, General George S. Patton himself arrived at the camp. He got out of his jeep and walked in the mud among the newly liberated men. Everyone cheered the famous general.

  Patton assured the prisoners he would continue the fight and beat the Russians to Vienna. To do that he needed supplies and that meant delaying their evacuation so his men could fight on. Of course, the men cheered him. They wouldn’t stall the war effort, not now when the Germans were on the run.

  Medical personnel arrived and set up an aid station. They examined many of the prisoners, including Ted. With his chronic cough, he was tagged for early evacuation to a hospital. The doctor recommended he rest, but Ted disagreed. He’d rested in the prison hospital long enough. Fearing that lying in bed would only make him weaker, he’d forced himself to get out of bed and move around. He’d walked and walked.

  As a freed prisoner, he did the same. He walked. He watched others play basketball and toss a baseball back and forth. He didn’t have the strength to join in, but he enjoyed watching and dreaming of the day when he could return to the basketball court.

  After a few days, three American nurses arrived. Ted decided to check them out. It had been months since he’d seen an American woman.

  “Hi, beautiful. Where’ve you been all my life?”

  The nurse stood with her fist on her hip and smiled at him. “There’s nothing wrong with you, soldier.”

  Ted grinned, feeling more like his old self than he had in months. “So let me out of this place.” He crooked his finger, bidding her to come closer. When she approached cautiously, he whispered, “I’m needed in England.”

  “England? For what?” She eyed him curiously.

  “My girl. She needs me.” His smile faded into a plea. “And I need her.”

  “How’d you get involved with an English girl?”

  “Oh, she’d not English. She’s a WAC, with the Eighth Air Force.”

 

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