by Dean Hughes
“We’re just getting started, Curtis.”
“Yeah, I know.”
Alex and Curtis took a long look at each other, but they said nothing more until Alex said, “Curtis, my little brother got killed.”
“Oh, man. I’m sorry to hear that, Alex.”
“He was in that bloody battle in Saipan. He got killed on his first day of action.”
“His name was Gene, wasn’t it?”
Alex nodded.
“So I guess that’s a lot worse than the wound in your leg.”
“Yeah. Much worse.”
Curtis tucked his hands into his pockets and looked at the floor. “I guess there’s no chance you can go home for a while?”
“No. I’ll be back at Aldbourne before too much longer. I won’t be able to jump out of an airplane for a while, but I’d rather be back with our guys than sent off with some other company.”
“Well . . . at least you’ll be back with me, and I really need someone who—you know—looks at things the way I do. And all the guys say you’re the one to follow. You can’t believe how the men talk about you now.” Curtis looked at Anna. “Did you know that Alex is going to get a medal?”
“No. He didn’t tell me. He tells me nothing about the war.”
“Well, he’s a hero. Major Higginson put Alex in for the Medal of Honor. It’s the highest honor a man can get in our military. From what I hear, only one Medal of Honor was allowed to each division, and someone else in the 101st is getting it. But as soon as the paperwork goes through, Alex is getting a Distinguished Service Medal. I don’t know if I’m supposed to mention that, but everyone knows.”
“What about the other men? All I did was—”
“Everyone who went in there with you is getting either the Silver Star or the Bronze Star. Even me. Major Higginson said we saved hundreds of lives down on Utah beach.” Curtis laughed. “All the guys in the squad say the major is going to pin my medal on my back pocket.”
By now Anna was catching on, and she laughed.
But Alex said, “We didn’t just save lives, Curtis; we took lives.” And he was thinking, “German lives. Anna’s countrymen.”
“I know. But it doesn’t do any good to think about that, Alex. It’s just the way things are in a war.”
“You can’t help it,” Anna said. “That’s what you told me about the things that happened to me.” She had told him about the young guard Crow had killed at the border.
“Maybe not,” Alex said. “But I don’t want any medals.” He looked past Anna, out to the countryside. It had been raining off and on, and the sky seemed to be clearing.
“So what kinds of plans do you two have?” Curtis asked.
Alex glanced at Anna and saw her turn red. The two had an understanding, unspoken, that lay behind everything they talked about. They sometimes spoke of the distant future, and when they did, that time always included both of them, together. But they had said nothing of the days immediately ahead of them.
“First, I have to get out of here,” Alex said. “Do you have any idea how soon we’re going to be sent back out?”
“Just rumors. Most of the men think they’ll drop us in behind the lines somewhere. The infantry needs to break out and drive for Paris—and then on to Berlin. There was all this talk, there for a while, that we’d be in Berlin by Christmas, but the progress in Normandy has been slow. So I don’t know. It would make sense to bring us in behind the German defense so we could help the infantry bust out.”
Alex nodded. It sounded right. If another drop was coming soon, he would miss it. But even if he did, he would be in on the next one—and it was a long way to Berlin. It hurt to have Anna here now and then to think of leaving her behind one more time.
After Curtis left, Alex decided that he did have to talk to Anna about their plans. “Anna, you heard what Curtis said,” he said carefully, in German. “We’re probably heading back into France before long. After our next drop, I doubt the army will pull us back here. We’ll be based on the continent, I would think.”
“I understand this,” she said.
“Has your family decided what to do? Are you going to stay in England?”
“My father doesn’t know. He can think only of Peter right now. He used to speak of going to Salt Lake City to live, but I told him I wouldn’t leave as long as you were here, and he understands that. As soon as he can, he wants to go back and look for Peter in Switzerland.”
“If I get shipped out, what would you do?”
“Alex, I . . .”
“What?”
“I don’t want to lose you again.”
“But I can’t help it,” Alex said. “The doctor says I’ll be able to go back.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Alex was confused. “Just tell me what you’re thinking.”
Anna leaned forward and took hold of Alex’s hand. “I can’t tell you. You’ve never . . . asked me. Not exactly.”
“To marry me?”
“Yes.”
Alex had hesitated because he hardly knew what to expect in the future, but now he suddenly realized that she needed to know for sure what he intended. Margaret wasn’t on duty at the moment, but Alex called for another nurse. When the woman came to his bed, Alex said, “I’m going to walk outside for a little while. Anna can help me.”
“It might be a bit damp out there,” the nurse said. “And slippery.”
“The sun is shining right now,” Anna said. Alex looked, and it was true. Some rays of sun had broken through the clouds.
“Well, all right. But don’t be prancing about. You don’t want to fall and hurt yourself. Don’t try to slip off into the woods either. We’ll all be watching you.” She laughed and slapped Alex on the foot. “If you start showing too much vim and vigor, we’ll send you back to your camp, and you won’t be able to dally about with this lovely girl all day. Think about that.”
“I have thought about that,” Alex said, laughing.
Anna handed him his robe. He had walked a good deal lately and was starting to feel much stronger. He was even walking without his cane. Outside, the grass was glistening with the fresh rain, and a rather wild-looking “English garden” that hadn’t been looked after lately was producing a host of colors. The setting was perfect, except that the two of them were in full view of the men in the ward. So Alex continued walking beyond the garden and down a path past the row of oaks he had looked at so many times. Once he knew he and Anna were out of sight, he stopped and turned toward her. He kissed her, held her for a moment, and then stepped back to look at her.
“Anna,” he said, “the first time I looked at you, I thought you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. But I fell in love with you on the day you came back from that terrible fever. Since that day I’ve never thought of marrying anyone but you. I’ll admit that sometimes I wondered whether we would really like each other so much, once we had some time together, but these days have been perfect, and now I have no doubt in my mind.”
Her eyes had filled with tears—those bright blue eyes.
“I wish I could kneel down,” Alex said. “But I’m not too good at that yet.”
“You’re fine as you are,” she said, smiling at him.
“Will you marry me, Anna?”
“Yes. Yes.” Tears spilled onto those perfect, sculptured cheeks of hers.
Alex took her in his arms again and kissed her—more fervently than before. He had never had a chance to hold her this way, standing up, and it was almost too much for him. He held her for a long time.
“But let’s not wait,” she said.
“What?” He took hold of her shoulders and moved her back from him so he could look into her face.
“I want this time together. We don’t know what time we might have after that.”
“But if something happens to me, you would—”
“If something happens, I would be married to you forever, and I would have you in the next life.”
“But there’s no temple here. We can’t be sealed.”
“I could do that later. I have learned all about that. If we were married, then I could have you sealed to me.”
“You want to get married right away?”
She nodded.
It was all a new way of thinking for Alex. He had thought of it at times, but the idea that he could be with her for such a short time and then have to go back to the war was too much contrast to imagine. How could he go from a honeymoon to a battlefield?
“I don’t know, Anna.”
“Let’s accept what we have. We’ll worry about the rest later. All I’ve thought about for three years is you, Alex. I can’t let you go away from me without knowing we’ll have each other forever.”
Alex nodded. “All right. My doctor said he needs to get me out of here soon—because he needs the room. But he doesn’t want me to go back to my unit until I’m healed a little better. He talked about getting me a seven-day pass. We could go to London. But this wound is still . . . not exactly what I would want on a honeymoon.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Alex smiled.
“My branch president in London said he could perform the marriage, but you have to get a license from the army. Your chaplain can make arrangements.”
“You really have been thinking about this, haven’t you?”
“I thought you would never ask me,” she said. “I worried that maybe you—”
But now he pulled her to him again. “I was only worried that it wasn’t fair to you.”
“The other way is the most unfair, Alex.”
Alex thought he understood that. He had received a long letter from Bobbi, who wanted her officer back and was worried she would never see him again. Bobbi had told him about Millie, too, who was so lost without Gene. Maybe this was better, however awful it would be for Anna if he didn’t get back.
Alex got out of the hospital on July 24. Only he, of course, had any idea that the date had any significance. But like those early pioneers who had arrived in Utah on that date, Alex had done a lot of walking lately—at least for a man with a wound in his leg. He wanted to get back in shape, knew he needed to, but he also didn’t want to be limping about like an invalid on his honeymoon.
The Stoltzes had come out to visit him on two occasions, and on the day of his release, they came and accompanied him and Anna on the train back to London. The Stoltzes wanted to help Alex constantly, but Alex had no trouble getting about now, even climbing up the steps into the train. By then, he had made the arrangements for his marriage license. His chaplain had made a trip to the hospital, from Aldbourne. A doctor at the hospital had also done the necessary blood tests. Margaret had seen to that.
So Alex and Anna, with the Stoltzes, headed straight to the branch president’s house. It was late afternoon when they arrived. President Wakefield had a congratulatory telegram from the Thomases. With it, the family had also wired some money, and so Alex had plenty for the honeymoon. He had already made reservations at a nice hotel, and so the added money would make it possible to eat good meals, and perhaps do some sightseeing. What Anna didn’t know was that Alex had managed to talk the doctor into a ten-day leave, and he had made reservations in a cottage in England’s lake district, in Windermere, near the area where William Wordsworth had lived.
President Wakefield was a little man, bald, with round glasses that magnified his green eyes. He was a gentle man, too, and thoughtful; he had some important things to tell Alex and Anna. He shook his stubby finger at Alex and told him, “You have a treasure here, young man. You must always treat her with honor and respect.”
Alex nodded his agreement.
“I think you will,” President Wakefield said, and he smiled, but then he added, more carefully, seriously, “You two are entering this covenant at a difficult time. Your lives are not your own. The war, at very least, will separate you, and it may cause you unthinkable challenges. Above all, you must be willing to accept whatever comes, to stand by each other in every test you may face.”
The words were no more ominous than the reality Alex had already envisioned, but they crystallized his concerns. He glanced at Anna, who was breathtaking in her simple white dress. He wished he could cling to her and hide from all that lay ahead.
“My only advice is that you trust the Lord absolutely. Accept his will in your lives. The wounds in Alex’s leg will heal, but deeper wounds always come from war. Both of you know that already. When peace finally comes to your lives, turn to the Lord for healing, and love each other without reservation. I promise you that you’ll be all right if you do that.”
Alex needed to hear that. He was still holding so much in his heart that he knew he would have to expunge somehow.
When Alex and Anna had made their promises, had been pronounced married, had kissed and exchanged gold bands, Sister Stoltz came to them first, held them both in her arms at the same time. She had aged a great deal in the past five years, but she was a beautiful woman, a promise of what Anna would always be. She cried, and Alex understood the complexity of her emotions, of everyone’s feelings. But she told them, “I’m so happy for you. I know God brought us here so that you two could be together.”
Brother Stoltz stepped closer. “I know that, too,” he said, and the words were enormous to Alex. This was that stout, strong man with the rigorous, tough mind—the man who had doubted everything Alex had taught him at one time—and yet he had come this far. Alex felt his own faith leap, and he told himself that if God had brought them all this far, surely he would take them through the rest of the way.
The moment felt right. So many miracles had happened for it to occur. Alex took Brother Stoltz in his arms and gripped him tight. “I’ll always be good to Anna,” he said. “I promise you that.”
“I have no doubt of that,” Brother Stoltz said. “What I ask, now, is for the Lord to bless you. If I can see you happy together, and if I can bring our Peter back, I will never again complain about anything.”
Alex nodded. Somehow, it seemed, those things simply had to happen. But he thought of Gene, and he knew there were no guarantees.
Chapter 34
The Thomases were building their bridges, but not with great pleasure or enthusiasm. Life for the present was a tedious task, and their greatest hope was that things would gradually get easier, more satisfying. Millie was working at the plant for the summer, and all the Thomases loved her, but seeing her was a constant reminder of Gene’s absence.
About two weeks after the memorial service, Millie had received a letter from Gene. For a moment, she had let herself believe that a miracle had happened, that the report of his death had been a terrible mistake. But she knew better, and when she opened the envelope, what she found was a letter that began, “In the morning I’m going into battle for the first time. If I don’t come out of it all right, there are some things I wanted to tell you.”
He told her that if he didn’t make it back, he had to believe that that was what God intended for him—and for her. What he wanted her to do was to go on with life and not miss the chance to marry and have a family. Millie loved and hated the letter. She felt the kindness, the affection, and yet it seemed a proclamation of divorce. Why didn’t he fight for her, plead with her to meet him in the next world?
She and President Thomas had a long talk, however, and he assured her that Gene was right: she shouldn’t give up her chance to marry, if the chance came. Millie leaned back in her chair and said, “President Thomas, maybe so. After a while maybe I can accept that, but I don’t have the heart to think about it right now. I just want to get through each day and not give in to self-pity; a lot of people are going through as much or more than I am.”
President Thomas was touched by her attitude, her nobility, and when she left his office, he thought how much he regretted the loss of the grandchildren she and Gene might have given him. At the same time, he knew he couldn’t wallow in self-pity himself. She was right about a
ll the pain that was being borne by so many.
President Thomas also had worries about the added challenges that might lie ahead. The liberation of the Philippines seemed to be looming in the near future, perhaps before the end of the year, but now the terrible word had come that several Japanese ships had been sunk in the Pacific—ships that had been carrying American prisoners of war from the Philippines. Wally might still be on Luzon, or he might be in Japan by now. If he was, who knew how long he would be there and what might happen to him when Allied forces finally got there? But a worse possibility now existed: Wally might be at the bottom of the sea.
Alex was also saying he would be returning to action before too much longer. And then he would be in mortal danger all over again. What would that mean to poor Anna, the daughter-in-law he had never met?
President Thomas told himself every morning that he had to keep going, the same as his great-grandfather had done, but that had sounded so much better, easier, when he had described it in his sermon.
Millie had felt strong on the day she and President Thomas had talked, and she had left his office feeling good about herself. But every time she thought she was on top of things, all the sadness would return again. One morning she was feeling quite good, so she turned on the radio. But what she heard was Jo Stafford singing “I’ll Be Seeing You.” She could have turned it off, but she listened, and she let herself sink into the deepest sorrow she had felt since the first day. She was fighting to hold back her tears when she arrived at work. Sister Thomas seemed to see that. She walked to Millie and said, “Have you tried swearing?”
“What?”
“I’ve noticed that some of these women who work for us are learning how to swear. When something goes wrong with the machines, they curse like a man. It seems to make them feel better, too. Do you want to try it?”