Delia nodded sharply and turned to leave.
“Oh, and Nurse Jensen?”
Delia stopped where she was and turned back.
“It will be fun.”
Fun? Heading to war? Delia was confused but offered another smile. She thought she saw a hint of something mischievous in the instructor’s eyes again.
“Yes ma’am, I mean, Alice.”
*****
The city of New York’s grandeur was beyond anything Delia could have ever imagined. The tallest buildings in her hometown of Grattan were grain silos and the massive three story barns that sat sentinel beside them. In New York, even the shortest buildings were taller than the barns and silos of her small town. Everything here towered above her, sights and sounds she had never experienced before surrounded her, and it was more than overwhelming. She felt like her very senses would overflow and everyone around her would see what a confused jumble of wonder she was. Alice took her to famous boutiques where one could only view clothing with an appointment. They traveled to the top of the Empire State Building and Delia experienced the terrifying thrill of vertigo for the first time.
The city was perfect. It was everything she had dreamed and as she took in the amazing sights, her resolve was strengthened to become the best she could be so that someday she could afford to live in a place like New York. Delia wanted to be away from the desperate loneliness that she had always felt and be one with this city of vibrant beautiful people, far away from the farm and the fields and the biting tang of manure year-round. This was where she wanted to belong. She felt a pang of sadness. This is the type of place Lilly belongs, too. Her sister was far too bright and beautiful to be stuck back in Grattan. Delia felt a little guilty for leaving her there.
After a very busy day, Alice decided they needed to experience New York’s nightlife before they left for England the next day. She and Delia had spent most of the evening walking about the city. Alice was vibrant. Every step she took seemed to be filled with life, while Delia’s steps had always been filled with purpose. The way she carried her tall body, as if it were weightless, was mesmerizing to Delia. Even the way her thin cigarettes darted in and out of her mouth seemed perfectly poised and effortless. Alice dragged Delia in and out of small taverns until her feet hurt from all the walking in the fancy shoes that Alice had loaned her.
At last they stopped at a well-lit club where they could hear the sounds of laughter within. When they went inside, Delia saw to her amazement, dancing. But this was dancing like nothing she’d ever seen. It was not the structured choreographed movements of the country dances they had back home. This dancing was wild and visceral and the music filled Delia’s entire body with a pleasant vibration that made her feet want to move on their own.
Alice found two other women she knew from the Nurse Corps and Delia was amazed by how easy it was for Alice to start up a conversation with anyone. Delia wasn’t listening, though, she was so wrapped up in her own observations that she didn’t know what was happening until Alice grabbed her arm and hauled her out to the wood floor where the group of happy young people were dancing.
“Alice!” Delia squealed fearfully, “I don’t want to do this! I don’t know what I’m doing!” Delia was terrified, the bodies were flashing and bumping into her and swirling around the chaotic dance floor.
Alice stilled her for a moment by grabbing both Delia’s arms and holding her face to face.
“You just follow my lead, Nurse Jensen.” Alice’s voice was as sweet as honey. The intensity in her eyes, the determination and drive, told Delia she could trust her. So she did, following Alice’s graceful form as she moved about the living dance floor.
Something startling happened as Delia was pulled, pushed, and twirled about-she started laughing. She could not stop it from bubbling up. A wide grin was plastered on her face and the waves of laughter just kept coming out of her. Her voice was deep as it always had been, but for the first time since Delia could remember; there was real mirth in it. Alice was laughing too as she pulled Delia very close against her, so that their bodies bumped together just a bit.
“I knew you had it in you, Nurse Jensen.” Alice had a sparkle in her eye.
“Call me Delia, Alice.” Delia was out of breath from the dancing, and in awe of the effortless way Alice moved her perfect figure over the dance floor, keeping Delia close with every step.
Then they were jostled from the dance floor by one of the other nurses whom they had met there. She was holding three glasses full of dark amber liquor that looked strong enough to drop a grown man. She passed a glass to Alice and Delia. Delia kicked hers back with no hesitation. The dark liquid went down her throat fast and she gulped the rest. It was strong and heady, like nothing she had ever had before. Then Alice went and found more for them. Delia was having more fun than she ever had, and her jaw hurt from laughing so hard. Then Alice shouted out.
“Back to the hotel, ladies!”
What? My goodness. They had been drinking hard, well, hard for Delia, but Alice and the other girls seemed no worse for the wear, in fact Alice seemed to get more revved up by the minute.
After another glass, or maybe two, of champagne back at the hotel, Delia’s mind was hardly working at all. It was a strange feeling. It was a happy feeling and Delia was laughing more than ever. The four of them talked long into the night, giggling like young girls again. Alice regaled them with stories from the corps. Grown men who wet the bed at night, nurses who fainted the first time they saw an open wound. The stories were entertaining, but they reminded Delia that very soon they would be doing their jobs for real.
When the champagne ran dry and the girls were complaining of sore sides from all the laughter, Alice finally sent them on their way. The two other girls stumbled out of the smoky hotel room, mumbling about finding a taxi that late. After Alice closed the door behind them she came back to the bed.
She flopped onto the bed on her back and pulled the bobby pins from her hair, letting it fall around her face. She beckoned to Delia who obediently came. She patted the bed next to her and when Delia sat down, Alice pulled her close and wrapped her arms around Delia.
“Thanks for being my friend tonight, Delia.”
“You can call me Dee, that’s what I like.”
Alice smiled, “And you should call me Ali.” Alice stroked Delia’s cheek. “You are a pretty girl, Delia.”
Delia stared into Alice’s eyes as she lay next to her. She felt drawn to this closeness with Alice, it felt good to her. Her muddled head was confused, but she did not care.
“Thanks,” she said, and then closed her eyes.
Delia wondered what was happening to Francis right then. He had left for the war long ago now. She knew because he had been able to take a short leave and he came to see her at the Nurses’ Academy. He had seemed hardened and well-prepared, but as always, he melted under her touch. They hadn’t had much time together, as all classes were mandatory and Delia was only permitted a forty minute lunch.
She made up for the brevity of their meeting by leading him down a seldom-used stairwell. At the bottom of the stairwell was a little cubby under the stairs where extra chairs were deposited. They were barely in the little hideout before his lips were on her and his hands were inside her shirt. He was rough and needy, turning Delia around so she was facing the wall. Hiking up her skirt, Delia bent over forward with her hands resting against the painted cinderblock.
“We don’t have much time, Francis.” She was already panting with anticipation.
Francis wasted no time, pulling himself out and sliding inside her. Delia moaned loudly as he filled her with his hot flesh. His muscular body slammed into her over and over, driving her closer and closer to climax. He gripped one hip tightly with one hand and with the other he massaged her clitoris, causing a riot of sweet sensations to rocket through her body. Then he slammed into her three quick hard times and let out a deep moan of his own as he climaxed. As he let go, so did she, letting the orgasm
erupt through her body and send her sliding down the wall, dizzy. He fell on top of her then, squeezing her tightly against his clothed body.
“Don’t forget your promise, Dee. You are mine now. Only mine.” His voice was soft but his tone was very dark.
She turned over in his arms with her hand tracing the large muscles hidden under his shirt line, “I won’t forget. But you better not forget either, Corporal Marks.”
Francis smiled with a crooked little-boy grin and rose, straightening his uniform as Delia did the same. “I mean it, Dee,” he continued, “you promised to be mine forever.” His eyes seemed alight with some dark fire raging within him and the intensity made Delia shiver.
She stowed her fear to calm him, placing a hand on his well-formed chest. “You have nothing to worry about.” Deep down, though, Delia was a little worried. Why did she feel so intimidated?
They exchanged, “I love yous,” and Francis departed.
After he left Delia felt lost. She had craved the sexual release, and it was gratifying, but she didn’t feel anything beyond that. She had told herself for years as they grew up dating that she would learn what love was and how to do it, that she would cultivate that feeling for him, so that her life plan could be completed. Now she did not know. She was starting to believe that she might never be able to love him.
That was almost two years ago.
She had made a promise to Francis, a promise she fully intended to keep whether she loved him or not. What worried her was what she did tonight – with Alice and the other nurses. She had had real fun, and she had felt freedom in her spirit, something she had not experienced since before her parents died. What did it mean? Why hadn’t she ever had this kind of fun with Francis?
It only took moments after Delia closed her eyes, lying next to Alice, to fall asleep, so she did not know if what happened next was part of a dream or not. After she closed her eyes she thought she felt Alice press her smooth lips against her own. For a moment she thought she could smell the sweet champagne and bite of nicotine on Alice’s breath, but then it was gone and she was fast asleep. It was probably just a dream.
Chapter Eight
The war was ugly. It was a hungry, dirty beast. Francis had not showered in weeks. His company had been on the march for longer than he could remember and his feet had blisters on top of callouses. Like many young men, he was not prepared for the horrors of war. The naked truth of it all was disgusting. He knew that the human tragedies he saw every day would be enough to drive most civilians mad.
Francis and his unit had come in over the English Channel in icy cold boats. They ended up landing a few miles West of Omaha Beach at a desolate place called Pointe Du Hoc. They had endured heavy casualties in the first few days – many of which occurred before they even reached the shore, nearly half of the Rangers and their support were drowned or gunned down before they left the water. After that they still had to scale the nine-story cliffs to overtake an enemy gun position and ensure a safe landing for the allies on D-Day.
Even after taking the high ground atop the cliffs, they continued to lose men to what seemed like unending German assaults. They continued on foot over the vast countryside and were eventually reinforced by the 5th Ranger Battalion.
Francis’s unit did a great deal of reconnaissance, relaying back information on Nazi movements. After a time though, they met up with other British and American forces. They were navigating slowly toward Belgium, to assist in the efforts there.
Advancing steadily through small villages, they drove back the occupying Nazis. Friends came and went by the bullet, but those closest to him; Johnny and Bill, always watched each other’s backs.
“Think we’ll kill any Nazis today?” Bill asked in a ridiculous southern drawl.
“We kill Nazis every day Bill. Why don’t you ask something smart for once?”
“Well gee there Frankie, some of us didn’t make it all the way through school like you, pretty boy. Why don’t you tell us what we should talk about?”
“Women, blokes!” Johnny chimed in.
“Jesus, Johnny, we’ve seen the women you’ve got in England, or Great Britain, or whatever you call it. I wouldn’t be bragging about them if I were you!”
“Come on, those ladies are nice. I like the nice plump bottoms on them.”
“What’s your take on it, Frankie?”
Francis was thoughtful for a moment. “Well, ain’t none of ‘em so nice as the one I had down on the farm, my fiancé.”
Bill made a gagging noise.
“But right about now I’d definitely take an English broad!” he finished.
“Thataboy! You may have some potential, Corporal Marks!” The Englishman patted Francis on the back. They were sitting in an empty coffee shop drinking bottled sodas they’d found behind the bar.”
“All right, gents,” Johnny said, “looks like we’re moving again.”
Indeed, Francis saw soldiers starting to move past their window. “Let’s go kill some Germans!”
The boys did not have to wait long for action that morning. As they entered a small town, Francis knew the shit was going to go down. The streets were abandoned and any residents that were left there were already holed up in their apartments. The soldiers marched into town along the main thoroughfare. Francis and the rest of his small Ranger crew were toward the front, scouting around buildings and peering into windows when they heard the Panzer IV fire.
Moments later, a 75 mm shell screamed through the air between them and crashed into a building on the west side of the street. The shop exploded and huge chucks of concrete sprayed over the scattering soldiers on the street.
Francis saw at least three men down and the medics started swarming toward them.
“Hey!” Bill was yelling at him.
“What?”
“It’s a beautiful morning, right?” Bill laughed then drew up his Garand and propped it against a wooden cart in front of him.
The Nazis had taken this village only weeks ago and their forces were concentrated in the middle of town. Francis and the remnants of the 2nd Battalion, in addition to the 5th, steadily advanced on the Nazi position, but it would have been impossible for the Germans to see the small group of men darting in and around buildings ahead of the rest of the American forces. They were like ghosts on the wind, invisible to the enemy patrols ahead of them. The Rangers slipped through the lines with ease.
Francis and his crew of six, which included his two good friends, infiltrated the Nazi line. Besides the Panzer tank, there was only a small Nazi force visible. Then Corporal Marks and his crew came across two machine gun nests that had been cleverly camouflaged. The nests were placed at diagonals across the largest intersection in town. There was no other enemy activity visible there; just the soldiers hunkered down behind sandbags. It was a kill spot, meant to lure the American forces into thinking the Germans had retreated, and then mow them down with .50 caliber machine gun fire.
There was no way to warn the rest of the company and the team knew it. It was their job to scout ahead for spots like these and neutralize them. Like shadows in the night, Francis and his crew drew up positions behind the enemy machine gun nests. Using a series of hand signals Francis communicated with Bill, who then directed his group. As one, the two groups attacked.
The men launched four stick grenades into the two machine gun nests. Even before the grenades exploded the men were on the move, advancing on the Nazi positions. The grenades went off; sending a shower of dirt and blood up over the sandbags, then the two crews pounced, spraying heavy Thompson machine guns back and forth into the nests from above. Gunfire riddled the few Nazi soldiers that survived the grenade blasts, their helpless bodies jerking against the hot lead. There were no Germans left alive, but the men did not celebrate the victory. Nazi snipers were already firing down on them, outraged by the unexpected ambush. Francis and his men sprinted back toward their allies. Francis was laughing as he ran.
“Fucking A! Great job boys
!”
*****
Liege, Belgium
“Nurse. Nurse!” the doctor called to her from across the room.
Delia quickstepped her way through the hospital ward toward the doctor. Doctor Roberts set down his suturing needle on the silver tray beside him. “I’m all finished up here. Could you clean this lad up and dress him?”
“Yes doctor.” Delia sat down on the side of the bed after the doctor got up. The patient was young, they all were, but this one was just a boy who had been nearby when an artillery shell hit. A piece of shrapnel hit him in the abdomen and became lodged deep inside. The doctor removed the shrapnel and repaired an artery that had been damaged, so the young boy had stitches both internally and on the outside of his body. He would be very sore for about a week, but he would live.
Delia took some gauze, soaked it in alcohol then mopped up the bloody mess the doctor had left on his bare belly. The boy was still heavily medicated, but Delia was quick to clean him up. She didn’t want him frightened at the sight of so much blood on his wound. After she cleaned him up, Delia applied several layers of gauze and tape. This was one of the few times she could really feel joy in her work, helping the children, and she didn’t get to see many of them – thankfully. There was something about a child, so innocent and soft, thrust into this horrific landscape of war that melted her heart. She smiled as she finished putting the dressings on the boy. With all the pain and suffering she saw daily, the protective walls that she had always kept wrapped tightly about herself were becoming weaker and weaker.
“You are so efficient,” a soft voice from behind her said.
Delia looked over her shoulder at Alice standing there. Alice was smiling at her with one hand on her hip.
“I had good teachers,” she responded flatly.
“That you did.” Alice looked down the hospital wing to see that the doctor had exited; then she strode up to the bed and wrapped her arms around Delia in a hug from behind. Delia made a perfunctory effort at slapping her way.
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