Behavior Report 45

Dearest Love,

I am writing this final letter to you with all the comforts of a cloud. Yes, you read the right. I have a comfortable bed, a desk, and a room with a view. I got here through a series of events, most were mundane, but a few moments are worth describing. The best part of it all is that Earl was by my side the entire time.

My last letter left off at the bridge where I finally finished that awful man who started everything for me. I needed a lot of time to catch my breath and my wits. Earl patiently waited by checking to make sure that the Kraut army was completely destroyed.

The monster sat by the bridge to lick its wounds and gaze upon the destruction it created. There was a twinkling in its eye.

I have no proof of the next thing I’m going to write. Call it a hunch. Call it a gut feeling.

But I could have sworn that the monster smiled. I believe it was happy to have crushed so many vehicles and soldiers. Maybe it was satisfaction for fulfilling revenge on its captures? Maybe it was more savage and joy from simply destroying? Whatever it was, the monster seemed content to watch over the smoldering destruction.

We said our goodbyes to the monster and then Earl drove me to the shore. The road led us directly to a headquarters position filled with soldiers and equipment. We asked for directions along the way, and everyone looked at us as if we were ghosts.

One soldier led us to a corporal who had a knack for linguistics. Well, actually, he had a knack for using one word as a noun, a verb, an adjective, an adverb, and anything else in the English language. This one word is not one I wish to write down. Let’s just say, he liked to say “Dadgum” all the time.

The corporal was surrounded by people who all appeared to fear his presence. He smoked cigarettes one after the other in such a cadence that Roland wouldn’t have been able to keep up. His fingers were black from ink and ash. He rolled up his sleeves to show off hairy forearms that bore a tattooed knife on one and a nasty scare from a knife on the other.

“Who the dadgum are these guys?” The corporal said when we walked up. “Why are you covered in dadgum blood and what the dadgum happened to your uniforms?” He pointed the tip of his glowing cigarette to my chest where The Unforgiveable Savage’s knife once struck. “You two get caught up in a dadgum bar fight?”

“No, sir,” Earl said. “I’m Private Earl Stevens and this is Private Frank Kaplan.”

“Well good for you!”

One of the soldiers behind the corporal stood up straight and turned around. His eyes widened and he quickly whispered in the corporal’s ear.

“The dadgum lost platoon? Get the dadgum out of here.” He leaned in closer to us. “What did you say your dadgum names were again?”

We repeated them and the corporal smiled. “Welcome home, gentlemen.”

The American Military Service pulled all the stops once it was known who we were. We were moved to the corporal’s tent where a doctor checked on us and then we were allowed to take a shower. A hot shower. Glory of all glories! We were given fresh uniforms, boots, and dry socks. My feet never felt better. We ate the finest canned ham that was warmed up and served on a plate!

Eventually, after a few days of resting, we were moved to the ship where I write this letter. My Love, the ship isn’t just any ship. It is a luxury cruise liner that’s been retrofitted to a Red Cross frigate carrying wounded soldiers back home. The exterior walls and hull were painted white like a heavenly cloud to stand out purposefully from any other destroyer. Inside, you can tell that the ship was once a cruise liner by the several levels of wood paneled hallways and doorways leading into individual staterooms. Each room keeps some memories of its past with polished oak floors and wainscoting. Coffered oak ceilings display its former luxury with carved ornate patterns of anchors and ships and whales. 

Like everything in the service, all removable luxuries in the ship were taken away and replaced with beds. No other room on the ship displayed this better than the ballroom whose bones still requested one arrive in black tie with its golden parquet floor, finely turned wood columns, and trayed ceilings. There is a stage at one end of the room where orchestras or jazz bands likely played and a grand stairwell on the opposite end constructed so that anyone and everyone who entered were given the opportunity to make an entrance. Now that the ship is in service for the war, the aura of wealth and refinement is replaced with the air of moaning casualties and the smell of gangrenous wounds.

It’s not all bad. Our luxurious ride back is nowhere near as crowded as our trip to Europe. A man can walk casually down the hall without bumping into brigades of other soldiers. Most are happy to lay in a somewhat comfortable cot and catch up on long lost sleep. Some are too injured to know where they are.

Earl and I are celebrities on the ship. We were given the largest stateroom with plush beds that have pillows and sheets! There’s even a desk in the corner where I’m writing this letter. Our room has a balcony overlooking the sea. During the day, we look out upon a never-ending world of blue that offers hope for what can happen. At night, the darkness is so blinding that one cannot see his hand in front of his face.

But even with all these comforts, Earl and I prefer to walk about. And now for the celebrity part. The others react to our presence in several unique ways. Some stare at us as if we are apparitions floating through the hallways and decks. These soldiers greet us with open mouths and stunned eyes. Other soldiers stand at attention as if we are four-star generals making rounds to check on our men. Earl and I respond to these soldiers with returned salutes and smiles. The last group of soldiers practically fawn over us as if we are Hollywood movies stars. I’ve signed a few autographs.  

The reason for all this craziness was told to us by our nurse named Samantha or Sam for short. She is one of the sweetest young ladies on the ship and catches the eyes of many a man in the hallway. Her smile is the first thing you notice about her. Like Earl, Sam is always smiling regardless of what’s happening. I think she likes Earl and me because we are two old married fellas just looking for a ride back to paradise. She can be herself without any concern of either of us asking her out on a date.

On her first meeting with us, Sam told us of something that passed around the service several months ago and is the reason for our celebrity. Earl and I were sitting on our respective beds, enjoying the first comforts of our trip. I don’t remember how the conversation started up, but she said something like, “You really don’t understand what all the fuss is about with you guys, do you?”

“Honestly, no,” I said.

“Everyone back home knows your story. Even against all odds, you took it upon yourselves to free an entire village of people.”

Earl and I gave each other a confused look.

Sam continued, “In the castle…”

Earl and I maintained our confusion.

“You don’t even know your own story?” Sam said incredulously. “When you met up with the division headquarters back along the shore, you told the brass about a castle, and they sent an entire regiment to clean up the mess. They found everyone from the village you were to originally rescue.”

“Le Perir?” Earl said.

“Yes, that’s the one. The whole village was locked up there. I heard that they were forced to sew uniforms and build rifles and such for the Krauts.”

“The whole village?” I half whispered. “We freed them and didn’t even know it.”

“How could we have known they were there? There were so many buildings. They could have been anywhere,” Earl added. “Say, Frank, you think Rosalie was originally from Le Perir?”

“I don’t know,” I said and then turned to Sam, “Did you hear any news about a young woman named Rosalie?”

Sam looked out the window at the water to think and said, “I don’t recall a name any particular person from the village.”

“She had the brightest ruby eyes. They were absolutely stunning,” I said.

Sam held up a finger as if a thought came to her. “You know, I did hear talk about a strange animal hanging about the people. At first, our boys thought it was dangerous, but it was gentle and helped them.”

“Did it look like a big rock with horns?” Earl said.

“Yeah. I heard that it could withstand a shot from a Sherman tank”

“We know the monster.”

“It was said that the monster had the brightest ruby-colored eyes,” Sam added.

Earl and I turned our attention to one another. The look he gave me was the same as mine to him. Our faces seemed to say, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“It’s funny talking to you two,” Sam said. “It’s like you don’t know the whole story of your lives. You probably don’t even know the battle cry?”

“Battle cry?” Earl said.

“No one has told you about it?” Sam’s voice strained in disbelief. “I don’t believe that. You’re practically bigger than … than … Betty Grable.”

“Why?”

“Word got round that your squad was attacked and that you fought back against insurmountable odds.”

Earl and I looked at one another with knowing glances.

Sam walked over to stand in a centered position at the foot of our beds. “They wrote a battle cry that everyone memorized.”

“You’re pulling our leg,” I said.

“No! I’m serious.”

“Then spill it sister,” Earl said.

Sam’s smile lowered to a sign of reverence, and she began.

“God bless the brave from Perir’s soil,
Who dug their graves with unwavering toil.
They faced a foe, not strong nor grand,
A dozen strong, united, they’d stand.

Their mission clear, a village to save,
Heathens struck hard, in darkness, a grave.
Yet lessons learned from battles untamed,
Forge bonds unbreakable, forever proclaimed.

From devil’s grasp, our souls they tried,
To claim and conquer, but we won’t hide.
United we stand, with courage our friend,
The war’s end we’ve seen, and it won’t bend.

God bless those men of Perir’s might,
Their strength and valor, a guiding light.
No fear shall hold us, day or night,
With this battle cry, we’ll win the fight!”

Earl and I sat dumbfounded.

“That’s the battle cry,” Sam said. “It has motivated so many. Your sacrifice and willingness to fight and never give up gave everyone a lift in fighting back Hitler’s forces. Everyone knows your names. General Eisenhower has even spoke of you.” After a moment of silence, she laughed and said, “I think I’ll leave you two alone to figure everything out.”

My Love, we didn’t say anything for at least an hour or two. I spent that time thinking about all the experiences and the boys and what we accomplished. None of it seemed real, like a dream, created from a knock on the head.

When Earl and I did start talking, it wasn’t about the poem or our experiences. I’m not sure why, but it didn’t feel right for me. Why talk about it when we lived it? All I need to do is look at my pack filled with promises to be reminded of what I experienced.

Which reminds me of another story that happened to me on the ship. My biggest regret was not finding a way to fulfill Emil’s promise of a marriage proposal. I could never think of an object that could represent Emil’s desires other than a ring and those are things you don’t normally come across in a forest.

Meals were brought to our room instead of us walking to the mess because of the distraction we wrought with our presence. Through no fault of our own, other than our celebrity, we would gum up the works in the mess because the men paid more attention to us than the food line, which is quite a feat. Being able to distract a hungry soldier is like stopping a rock monster from destroying a tank in the Cauchemar Forest. It’s practically impossible. Normally, Sam would bring our trays to us but there was one supper when another nurse joined her.

Sam said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve brought Gertrude with me to help.”

Gertrude is a little older than Sam, likely closer to our age. She is fit and trim like the rest of the nurses we’ve met but displays a few more wrinkles around her eyes.

“We’re always happy to have a visitor,” Earl and I responded.

“I’ve been telling her all about the stories you’ve been telling me, about the promises and all, and she might be able to help.”

“How so?” I said.

Both nurses handed us our trays.

“Sam told me about the promise letters,” Gertrude said. Her voice was soft. “And she told me about the things you found to fulfill the promises.”

I started to say, “If you want to see them, I can show—”

“No. It’s not that,” she interrupted. Tears began to well in her eyes.

I looked at Earl and then Sam for some sort of acknowledgement of what I did to make her cry. Neither seemed to know, so I said, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not that. It’s … it’s …”

Sam rubbed Gertrude’s shoulder and said, “Hey, it’s okay.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry.” She took a deep breath and then continued. “Sam told me about the promises and how you were able to find something for all of them but one.” She started to tear up again. “I might have a solution for you.” Gertrude slipped her hand into the pocket of her smock and drew out a small, simple golden ring. “The love of my life proposed to me almost two years ago, right before he joined up.” She paused and then held out the ring to me. “I’d like you to have it.”

“Oh … no … I couldn’t,” I said. “The letter will likely be enough.”

“I insist. I don’t know why I hang onto it. It means nothing to me. His memories have more value than any piece of gold.”

“You should keep it.”

She smiled, reached for my hand, and then placed the ring in it. “From what Sam has told me, the soldier who promised to get engaged never had a chance to tell his girl. A letter won’t do any good because she won’t have any memories of his request. This ring will tell her. This ring will give her something to hold onto at the very least.”

She walked away, refusing to take the ring back.

Sam smiled, said, “Let me know when you’ve finished supper,” and then left the room.

“What an angel,” Earl said. “Her wings must have been tucked underneath her blouse.”

 “They’re all angels. They pray with those who are sick. They smile and laugh with those who need cheering up. They give everything to make us happy. Their healing touch is backed by the hand of God,” I said. I left my supper to dig through my pack and find Emil’s letter. His was at the bottom and I set all the others on the bed as I dug through. “And here I have eleven more angels, all with promises fulfilled for their loved ones left behind.”

“You know what I’ve just realized?” Earl said. “I don’t know what you promised.”

“I don’t have one. I never did.”

Earl’s smile faded. “The man who’s constantly writing letters to his wife doesn’t have a promise. Go figure.”

“I never could figure out what would be best. So, I never came up with one.”

“You’ve done enough to make up for it.”

“You think?”

“The whole point of the promise was to ensure that your loved ones left behind would have something to keep your memory alive. When all those letters you’ve written are dropped off, your wife and son will have one hell of a story to read.”

“I guess so.” I thought about the letters standing in a pile outside our front door. “You know what? Throughout it all, the only thing I’ve wanted is to be reunited with my family. To hold them. To feel their touch. To hear their voices again.” I smiled.

“You will, Frank. You will. Until then, we’ll stick together.”

I didn’t respond.

Time passes slowly whenever there is anticipation …

But I can wait.

It’s easy to wait where there are angels helping me and keeping me company.

I’m practically floating upon a cloud.

So, take your time.

I want both you and Junior to be ready when we meet again.

I’ll be here to welcome you home when it’s time.

Until then …

All My Love,

Frank