“Oh, here’s someone else coming to the door—oh, it’s Andrea. Did you not see her at the ceremony, Dwayne? Hi, dear, come on in, we’ve got a houseful. Your dad had a bit of a turn, and luckily Dana and Tony here were nearby and have brought him home. They called me—lucky, ’cause I’d just come back from visiting next door.” She finally paused, enough for Andrea to put in a few words.
“Mom, I’ve been trying to call you—Trevor has been wounded—I got word this morning—I got hold of Dad on his cell, but I couldn’t get you.”
“What—oh no—the poor boy. Is he going to be okay? Is it bad? Oh, I have to sit down. Oh my, all this at once.” She sat awkwardly on an upright chair. Andrea was in tears again, but she moved over to reassure her mother. Dwayne was still sitting, a blank look on his face.
Dana looked at Tony. “Help me in the kitchen. We need to get them some drinks. They need a few moments together.”
Quietly, Dana and Tony moved into the kitchen. Dana found some coffee to put in the basket while Tony put water into the coffee pot that sat on the counter. Dana was relieved that the controls were simple.
“It’ll just take a few minutes. Do you see any mugs or cups?”
“Over here.” Tony brought back five mugs.
The coffee pot was brewing. Dana put her arms round Tony and laid her head on his shoulder. His hand came up to caress her hair.
“It never gets any easier,” she said softly, as tears welled up.
Tony held Dana tight. He knew that she needed reassurance herself at this point; she felt deeply about all the casualties in the Afghan and Middle East conflicts, and especially those caused by IEDs. There were times even now when she woke at night, shaking and sobbing—fighting down images from the tragedy that she alone had miraculously survived.
She still grieved the loss of her comrades, her crew in that exploded vehicle. She and Tony had visited all their families; each visit was different, each difficult in its own way, but appreciated by the families.
But, as Tony knew, the terrors, the fractured images and sounds, the memories of her own ordeal, did not go away. She still suffered from that trauma. She had sought help, but the little help there was at the time had not been enough. Consequently, her career had suffered, and even now she was not reaching her full potential.
The recent shooting at the War Memorial had reawakened her terrors, and she and Tony had spent several difficult, unsettling nights in recent weeks. She was not alone. Tony had heard that others too were struggling.
“Thanks so much for being an angel, Dana; I don’t know what would have happened with Dad if you and Tony had not been close by to help him.” At this point, Andrea was at last able to compose herself.
Dana knew Andrea was about fifteen years older than she was, but the stress of the morning made it seem like she was much older. They were all crowded into the Hampdens’ living room. Tony was sitting near the fireplace, chatting with Dwayne and Elizabeth. Andrea and Dana were standing near the doorway to the kitchen, sipping from their mugs of coffee.
“Yes, it was lucky; we saw the sudden cluster of people and the paramedics running over—it was just a little way in front of us. I think it was probably the combination of cold, hunger, thirst, weariness, and the shock of hearing about your son. He seems okay now. I am so sorry about your son, though. What have you heard?”
“That he has been wounded, is comfortable, and is going to be okay. I don’t know anything more at this stage. Don’t even know where.”
“I know it’ll be hard for you, but be positive, and patient. Those words are encouraging. They wouldn’t have said that if it were not so. At this stage, they may still be assessing the full situation. Do you know when it happened?”
“No, they didn’t say.”
“Hmm. They probably don’t want to give out info potentially useful to the enemy. Do you have more family?”
“No, Trevor is my only child. His father left us not long after Trevor was born, and has never contacted us since. I’ve no idea where he might be. And no interest.”
“I’m so sorry, I …”
“Dana, Andrea, come and join us here by the fire.” Dwayne was clearly feeling brighter as he waved them over.
“It’s so nice to see you both, even though it is in such an unexpected way,” said Elizabeth, looking toward Dana and Tony. “You must have such busy lives, you young couples.”
“You’re darn right.” Dana laughed. “Too busy at times. I’m at NDHQ right now; job’s reasonably interesting, but demanding.”
“What about you, Tony?” asked Dwayne.
“I’m a technician at the Rehab Centre at the General Hospital on Smyth. I find it really interesting and worthwhile. We get quite a lot of wounded soldiers come through, as well as industrial accident victims.”
“And Tony volunteers at one of the shelters,” added Dana.
“You mean, where the street people and homeless go?” asked Andrea.
“Yeah, it’s quite a challenge, but I feel good about it.”
“Had a strange fellow come up beside me this morning, before the crowds came,” put in Dwayne. “He stank to high heaven—it made me feel quite uneasy—but he had come to pay his respects at the Cenotaph. He stood in silence, and then spoke out loud to the memory of someone he called Hal. He had old, decrepit, army-style clothing, and a beret with a badge on.”
“Was his hair grizzly and grey? About five foot six, stocky?” asked Tony.
“Yes, I would say so. He had a haversack across his shoulder, and a mickey flask.”
“That was Robert. I know Robert; he comes to our shelter once in a while. Sad case. Hal was his best friend in Vietnam, blown up right beside him. Robert has never been right since—PTSD—shell-shock.
“Don’t know how he ended up in Ottawa. He’s never been able to hold down a job for long, has lived on the street for years; it’s amazing how he has survived so long, but he has. When he comes to the shelter, if I’m there, I always sit and talk with him—he reminds me so much of someone I knew long ago.”
Dana looked over to Tony—his eyes were watering. She put her hand on his arm; she knew he was thinking of Albert, and his own time on the street.
“Do you help at the ‘Mission’, where that gunman who shot the sentinel guard had stayed?” asked Dwayne. “That was a terrible goings-on.”
“No, it’s another one further out from downtown,” replied Tony.
“Mom, do you mind? I’m just going into the kitchen to put the radio on for a few minutes, to catch the news.” Andrea stood.
“Why, dear—oh, yes, of course, dear.”
Dana guessed that Elizabeth had realized Andrea’s concern for news of Trevor.
Andrea returned a few minutes later, tears streaming down her face again. They all turned to her.
“There’s been another shooting; that must be how Trevor was hurt. It was at the barracks in Kuwait where he is staying. Apparently, a lone gunman infiltrated the area, and managed to shoot four airmen before someone got him. Thank goodness no one was killed. They’ve got the gunman alive, this time.”
“Come sit down again, dear,” Elizabeth soothed. “There’s nothing more you can do right now. Trevor is going to be all right, don’t you worry.”
It was late afternoon when Dana and Tony left the Hampdens’ house in Brewster Gardens. As they walked to their car, Dana looked up. “It’s ages since we were last here; let’s just wander over by the Centre.”
“Sure.” Tony nodded. He realized that he had not been back to the area for a very long time. His last visits to his old home had indeed not been pleasant.
Much had happened since those days of their youth. Dana’s parents, not long after Dana and her brother Iain had left home, had moved into a small apartment condo downtown, partly, Tony rationalized, to get away from the scene of the tragedy of Bryce’s death. But Tony and Dana often visited her parents, and had kept in touch with Iain and Tracey and their kids, now in Calgary.
&n
bsp; Tony’s own family had basically disintegrated; the younger ones, Angelo and Roberta, had left home and gone their separate ways—Tony rarely heard from them. Gina did keep in touch a few times a year, but she had a partner, and was living in Toronto, now. His parents had never made Tony and Dana welcome when they had tried to visit.
Dana had been posted across the country a couple of times, to Edmonton and to Gagetown. Tony was still in training during the Alberta stint, and they had found that separation hard. But he was fully qualified during the Gagetown posting, and he’d found a job in Fredericton, not too far away.
As they approached the Hennigan Centre, the door opened and Kelly Carson stepped out.
“Hey Kelly,” called Dana. “Long time—no see!”
Kelly, surprised, looked over, instantly recognizing the pair. “You don’t say. Great to see you. What brings you here?”
They exchanged hugs. Dana quickly explained the incident with Dwayne.
“Dwayne and Liz—they’re such a nice couple,” noted Kelly. “Say, I’d love to ask you round for a longer chat, but Mike has the kids over at his mum’s, and I promised I’d be there by five. But, you two, you’re looking good. Smart uniform, Dana.”
“Thanks. Can’t complain.” Dana grinned. “How is this place doing?” She nodded toward the Centre.
“Doing okay. I suppose you know that Dave Adkins left us a year and a half ago to go to be administrator at a Sportsplex north of Toronto—it was a big step-up for him, so you can’t blame him. Mike and I now run the Centre on a part-time basis—we have a Board of Directors that runs the trust. You know that George Simpson passed away …”
“Yes, that was really sad news—and it was at a time when I just could not take leave to come back to Ottawa.”
“Look, now that you’re back in town, do come and visit with us. I really must dash now. Great to see you both.”
“Bye, Kelly.” Tony grinned. Dana waved.
“Let’s go along the old track,” said Dana, reaching for Tony’s hand. “I need some peace.”
They walked along in silence. Over the years, the underbrush had grown considerably—some of the bushes were now overhanging the trail, such that Tony had to make quite an effort to brush them away.
They reached the old bridge pier, and stood watching the water swirl over the stones below.
Dana turned toward Tony. The late afternoon sun lit up the wisps of her hair that were now escaping her regulation military bun. A feeling of great warmth spread over him. They were together; through trials, through tribulations, through tragedies, through triumphs, they were together.
He marvelled at her beauty, at her class, at her poise—standing there in her uniform. There was no need for words, just their love for each other, as they embraced. He just knew—she was his angel in blue jeans.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Richard Coles and his family survived when their home was badly damaged by enemy bomb debris during World War II two weeks after his birth in England. He graduated from the University of Liverpool with a Physics degree, and trained as a teacher at the University of Bristol. He taught at schools in England and, after emigration to Canada with his wife, he taught at a high school in Winnipeg. At the University of Manitoba, he undertook further post-graduate studies.
Coles moved his family to Ottawa to begin a thirty-year career as a research geophysicist and manager with the Federal Government. His volunteer work includes twelve years of youth leadership with Scouts Canada and ten years as a volunteer and Civilian Instructor with a Royal Canadian Army Cadet Corps.
Coles has received the Meritorious Service Medal for his volunteer service with the Royal Canadian Legion. He was honoured to receive the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee Medal for service to Canada.
Coles and his wife have recently ‘retired’ to Victoria, BC, to be closer to their sons and most of their grandchildren.
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