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It Happens Faster Than You Think

Hi Everybody! I hope those of you who followed me in the past are still willing to do so. I’ve been away to dedicate my time to writing three books. One is the second edition of my first attempt at a novel. During the past several years and six other books, I’ve learned a thing or two. I still like the story, but the writing—not so much. The second book is a sequel to “Finding Gessler.” And the third is the more difficult tale to tell—“Barbie and Ken, A love Story.” This book chronicles our journey through Multiple Sclerosis. So you get it—I’ve been busy.

But I had to write about an important subject—aging. This summer I will have a milestone birthday. Yes, I will turn 65. I think this birthday is tougher than turning any other milestone birthday like 18, 21, 30, 40, 50, 60 etc. Inside, I feel no different than I ever did, but for the first time outside, there are tell-tale signs—gray hair, glasses, and moving a bit slower. What I didn’t count on was the government and different professionals reminding me almost every day  I’m getting close to the big 65.

It started when my Medicare card arrived a month ago. Following that memorable event was a plethora of advertisements for Medicare supplement plans. Next came the phone calls from every insurance agency that sells the old fogy plans. Okay, I’m tough. I can take it. But when my family doctor came into the exam room saying, “So, Barbara, how’s the hip?” Weeks later, the optometrist said, “You’re eyes are in good health, but I do see the start of cataracts.”

It’s bad enough to look at my birth certificate and KNOW I’m getting older, but to have all these outside influences reinforcing the fact, well, it is a bit overwhelming. And considering my birthday is not until the end of July, what’s the rush?

For all of you who are younger than I am, don’t hurry to grow up. It happens sooner than you think. Just saying’.

Christmas Lights and Other Stuff

I know the global warming of our planet is a serious issue. Scientists say this change on our planet will eventually wipe out life in the oceans and then life other most other kinds. BUT, I gotta tell you in a perfectly selfish viewpoint of one living in a northern climate — I love living in temperatures more springlike than winter-like.

The warm weather took a hiatus forcing us to muddle through a few “normal” days in the 30s before they returned this week. As I mentioned in a previous post, I started my outdoor holiday lighting project last week and yesterday I finally finished it. All it took was two new strings of lights, a new ball of twine, and a very long extension cord.

But last night I went outside in my stocking feet (my mother was probably yelling at me from the heavens) to take a look at my handiwork. I enjoy the familiar joyful current that travels through my body when my eyes see holiday lights. Now it’s on to finishing my holiday paintings which have sprung up on all indoor walls.

How do you bring holiday joy (besides family gatherings and good food) celebrate the holidays?

It’s Unseasonably Warm

All the calendars tell me it’s November again. The only real evidence of that fact is we had to “fall back” with our clocks last Saturday. Instead  of getting cold, though, we’re having a week of 70 degree temperatures with bright sunshine and clear blue skies. I think Mother Nature is making up for her nasty behavior in the Spring.

But even the warm temperatures can’t deny winter is lurking behind the curtain. It’s dark at 4:30 in the afternoon and Christmas commercials are already appearing on television. Yuck. Another downside of the warm temps is not having the excuse to snuggle in the blankets in the early darkness. I tell everybody who will listen that I would have made a very good bear because I do hibernate.

So how do we get through the next four to six months? (Yes, six months — I live in a northern state where winter is never-ending.) I think the anticipation of the holidays of Thanksgiving and the craziness of Christmas and all it’s “traditions” pull us through this time of year.

So for all you other “sun signs” like me, keep a calendar handy and check off the days until April. It makes you think you’re making progress to more consistent nice, warm, weather. This stretch of present warm temperatures is a fluke.

Creating Your World

A few days ago my daughter called and said she found an outlet for some of my jewelry. Lately, painting has taken the place of my jewelry designing because I have a dresser drawer full of necklaces, earrings, and bracelets just lying dormant. So I was excited a tanning salon wanted to take my creations and sell them. Christmas is coming, after all. The store I had my jewelry displayed downtown closed over a year ago, so I pretty much abandoned my jewelry efforts.That is not to say my paintings are flying off the wall. I’ve found one idea leads to another, then another, and another. Before long, my creative endeavors almost move me out of my house!

I may never sell a painting, but I challenge myself by trying new techniques and practice things like perspective, which I really haven’t mastered yet. The best part is when my artist friend Marie critiques my creations and makes suggestions to improve what I’ve done. Constructive criticism is part of the creative process, so grow a thick skin and ask for it.

I’ve always enjoyed crafting but like everything I seem to take on, I am prolific. I’ve written eight novels and many short stories. I’m working on two more books, too. This is my 482nd blog — and I took a year off.

But I have to do these things. Creating is the reason we are all put here. Really. Maybe you don’t create “art” or “literature” but most people pick something to enrich their soul. My creating keeps me thinking. I hate foggy days (not the weather). When I feel sluggish, I pick up one of my creative outlets and just do it. Nobody has to push me to move into the creative side of me, and before I know it, the fog has lifted and I can go on to tackle more mundane activities like cleaning, paying bills, or cooking the evening meal.

If you don’t indulge your creative side, you’re missing the boat. Pick something you might enjoy. Try it. And if you don’t like the activity, try something else. Creating is in human DNA. You need to express this part to make you whole. Tell me about your creative outlets. I’d love to hear about them.

 

Making a Choice – Drama or Thankfulness?

Yesterday was about as perfect as it gets. For some people the simple events of taking a drive, doing a little shopping, having lunch with a good friend, and driving home would be taken for granted as an ordinary day. But when you face the daily rigors of care taking having a relaxing day with a friend becomes a terrific day. It’s all about perspective and living a thankful life.

So much is said about living a “thankful” life. Some therapists even suggest keeping a thankful diary. Why? It is a way to recognize how wonderful life can be. When you’re thankful, you don’t think about missing out on something.

Many people sleepwalk through their lives and slug their way through the day. They put unnecessary drama in their lives and whirl around to get attention. Little do they realize they are only wasting their energy on nonsense. I hate living in a world like that, so I work every day to avoid it.

I’ve shared some of the bad days Ken has experienced, and I admit his deteriorating condition does affect me. The bad days are hard, and that’s because I love him. And sometimes I love it. But most of the time we work through the stress together and go on. Through the twenty years we’ve been together we’ve become part of each other.  Every day I search for ways to make his life easier and happier. Other people look at us staying at home almost every day and they wonder why we aren’t nuts. After all, this 24/7 togetherness even for healthy people can be enough to make you go crazy.

We’ve had to accept our retirement dreams are dashed, but our story is much more prevalent than people realize.  Our friends are examples of couples who face this challenge every day. Cathy nurses Jim who has a rare blood disease. Linda watched Patrick lie in a hospital bed for a few months as he succumbed to the ravages of diabetes. Kay who has experienced seeing her husband Marc collapse with heart disease. We all muddle through the tough days and give thanks for days when our partner feels well. The only other choice is to run away, but that isn’t a true option. None of us could live with ourselves if we gave into that impulse.

Being thankful for the good things — like a day when we can get out just for a car ride — keeps the awful days in perspective. Discovering the peace that exists in all of us helps take the disappoints in strides. We live in a sea of patience and dismiss the small stuff. Before you realize it, everything is the small stuff.

Have a wonderful, thankful day everyone!

#####

 

APPLE PIE AND STRUDEL GIRLS – BOOK 6 (CONTINUED)

Chapter 19

Naples, Italy-October 1944—Ten months went by since Josie and Mario found each other at the Naples hospital. In the fall, Josie returned to the operating room, and once again, she experienced the satisfaction this work gave her. Mario remained in the army and found contentment in his new assignment as a hospital orderly, assisting medical personnel, cleaning bedpans, and removing other disgusting messes from the sick and injured. Mario rationalized his duty as payback because others performed such chores for him.

With Mario rejected for further combat, Josie relaxed around him and allowed a deeper relationship take hold. Every afternoon they met and strolled through the compound hand in hand. Mario showed her how laughter worked to ease a tension-filled day. Every night when they still possessed enough energy, the couple went to the USO club to dance. Mario glided around the dance floor holding Josie in his tight frame. As they floated to the music, the world drifted away for a few minutes.

When the music stopped, Mario led Josie to a small table at the periphery of the dance floor. He became uncharacteristically solemn.  “Josie, I need to say something.”

Josie breathed deep as she recovered from the exuberance of the dance. “OK, soldier; tell me what’s on your mind.”

Mario too a deep breath. “I gave up the chance to go home several months ago, did you realize that?”

She put on a mischievous grin because she knew the answer. “So, why didn’t you go home?”

“Because what I want is right here.” He moved closer to her.

“Oh.” She thought her heart skipped a beat.

“I recognize I’m a clown a lot of the time, but I need you to take me seriously right now.”

His eyes in the candlelight told her something very important was about to happen. “Sure, Mario. Just tell me.”

“I love you, Josie. That’s why I stayed.”

She gazed into his big brown eyes and whispered. “I know.”

He leaned back on his chair. “Then why did you bust my balls to tell you in so many words?”

“Every girl needs her guy to tell her he loves her, silly.” A grin crossed her face. “And besides, I get a kick out of seeing a big guy like you squirm.”

“You devil!” Mario pulled her to his chest and held her like a bear. He kissed her with passion leaving her breathless.

“Oh, Mario!” She melted. “I love you, too!” She returned his kiss.

His huge dark eyes brightened. “Let’s get married.”

“Is that a proposal?”

“It’s the best I got.”

“All righty then.” She smiled up at him.

“Is that a YES?” he said.

“It’s the best I got.”

The music started again. This time it was a waltz. Mario pulled Josie onto the dance floor. She cuddled into his body. She felt secure and happy in his arms. For the rest of the evening they never missed a beat dancing.

Chapter 20

Switzerland-October—Heidi missed Danny so much she found smiling difficult. She wanted to cry but she only allowed herself to shed any tears when the children went to sleep because they also suffered yet another loss in their young lives. They got too upset whenever Heidi showed her sadness.

When Heidi picked up the mail every day, she prayed she would receive a letter from Danny. To her delight, today she found an envelope addressed in his familiar handwriting and another letter with a Budapest return address. Why would Dominik write to her?

Dear Heidi,

 I am back at home and things are crazy with the Nazis in power. They restricted the Jews from interacting with other citizens. Worst yet, they deport train loads of people every day. 

I talked until I got hoarse to persuade the Rabbi to take his family away from here, but he refused to leave. As you know, he felt it was his God-directed responsibility to protect the Jews. I am sad to tell you he and his family got captured in August and placed on a train. I learned through the grapevine the train was bound for Auschwitz in Poland. I guess there’s a work camp there, but nobody knows for sure what is going on there.

I cried as I witness the Germans separating the men from the women and children before they got on the train. Gavrelia screamed when she was pulled away from the Rabbi. A Nazi hit her in the face with the butt of his gun as he pushed the Rabbi toward the men’s line. 

A rumor circles around town the Rabbi escaped the train by sawing open the lock on the train carriage. Supposedly he hid an emery wire in a loaf of bread, and jumped from the train.  As you might imagine I am not privy to his true fate or if Gavrelia and the children are safe. All we can do is pray.

When I learn more, I will write. I hope you and the children are still out of harm’s way.

 Your friend, Dominik

Heidi cried as she read about the Rabbi who protected her and the children for two years being sent away from his home. Her mind raced with tragic scenarios. If he did jump from the train, where is he? And to think any Nazi bully would harm a gentle person like Gavrelia was hard to swallow. Gavrelia and the children must be terrified to be separated from the Rabbi.

Heidi knew the Nazis hated every Jew—even the children she adopted. Her heart raced when she thought they might be taken away. Why did her countrymen have to be so cruel?  She brushed away her tears for the Weismann family and opened the second letter hoping Danny’s news was happier.

 

My sweet Heidi,

I am safe in England again. My original unit went home, but I will remain here doing desk duty for a few months.

 I must tell you some bad news. The U. S. Army Air Corps claims our marriage is not legal, and I will not be able to bring you to the States unless we go through proper military channels. As you might guess, I got heartsick hearing such a thing. I am married to you in my heart and somehow I will bring you home.

Major Jamison informed me American servicemen need the permission of their commanding officers to marry any European woman while he is serving in the military.

The good news is, Major Jamison is making arrangements to bring you and the children to England. I am searching for a flat for all of us, and in a few short weeks we can marry again. You will be contacted by the Resistance, and they will bring you to me.

I am so sorry we must go through this military nonsense, but I will never be sorry to repeat my promise to love and cherish you forever. We’ll be together soon, my sweet darling.

I love you so much, Danny 

P. S. This time I will give you a proper wedding ring.

Heidi fingered the homemade wedding ring Danny made for her out of an old car part off the Rolls Royce. The car provided safe passage for her and the children from Warsaw to Switzerland, so no matter how beautiful a “proper” ring might be, it would never be as dear to her as the one he made with his own hands.

Heidi drew a deep breath and ran her hand over Danny’s letter. She wondered how much time would pass before she would feel his embrace again.

Chapter 21

Zurich, Switzerland – October—The librarian knocked on Heidi’s door a week after Danny’s letter arrived. She handed Heidi a small envelope and left without a word. The clandestine correspondence held the instructions Heidi would follow to get to the Americans in England. Because the Allied forces achieved a confident foothold throughout France as the army pushed the Germans back to Berlin, Heidi’s instructions differed from the path Danny had followed. Her journey traveled through the mountains to Lyon by car. They would be shuttled to a train depot to then board a train destined Paris. Afterward, a plane would carry them to London.

Heidi wanted to be with Danny as soon as possible, but she feared what another perilous journey would do to the children.

When she told the children the plan, David spoke up. “Mutter, don’t worry. We will be fine. I will hold Ruthie’s hand, and I am sure Jacob will sleep the whole trip. I am not afraid to go.”

Heidi hugged David. “Thank you my dear son. I can always count on you.”

*****

When darkness enveloped the night, Heidi carried a sleepy Jacob to a car waiting for them in front of the house. As he promised, David held Ruthie’s hand and helped her get settled in the backseat. Heidi covered them with a blanket before the driver proceeded away from the residence which served them for almost a year.

“Mama, when will be with Papa Danny?” Ruthie asked.

“We must be patient, Ruthie. Our journey will be long, so you need to sleep. You do not want to be tired when we see Papa Danny, do you?”

“But Mama-

Heidi shot the child a “mother look” which told the child she wanted no argument.” We must follow instructions. I expect you to do as you are told. Understand?”

David and Ruthie nodded and remained silent until they climbed onto a train bound for Paris. At the station in the city of lights, an American sergeant put them in a jeep and drove to the airfield where the family boarded a cargo plane destined for London.

As the plane’s engines revved, Heidi held her breath. She couldn’t show her fear because she didn’t want the children to be afraid. David’s eyes widened as the powerful engines propelled the plane to the runway. Ruthie squealed with delight as the plane took flight. “Weeee! Mama, we are flying like birds!”

Heidi forced a smile and gritted her teeth as a peaceful Jacob slept in her arms. “Yes dear. We are.”

*****

The London flight passed quickly. A disappointed David whined, “Can’t we do go again, Mama?”

“No, not today David. Remember Danny is waiting for us.”

Heidi breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened, and she put her feet back on the ground again. Danny waited for them on the tarmac, and all of children ran toward his opened arms. He hugged and kissed everyone and then embraced Heidi. “I worried about you traveling all that way, darling.” He kissed Heidi tenderly. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“So am I.” Heidi melted into his embrace.

Me, too Papa Danny!” Ruthie hugged his leg. Danny patted her head.

Jacob put up his chubby arms. “Uppie Dada!”

He kissed the child.

David stood off to the side. Danny handed Jacob to Heidi and walked toward the boy. “Hey sport! Where’s my hug?”

David’s face lit up and he hugged Danny around the waist.

Danny heard the boy whimper. “What’s going on, son? Don’t be sad.”

“I thought you left us forever . . . like my real Mama and Papa.” David cried.

Danny hugged him. “I promise I will never leave you, and I keep my promises. You’re my boy, and I’m very proud of you. When we get home, we’re going to live in a nice house, and you can even get a puppy if you want one. But that will be our secret, okay? I need to clear adding a puppy to our family with your mother.”

David wiped his tears with the back of his hand. Danny put his hand on the boy’s shoulder and they both walked toward Heidi and the other two children. Heidi’s heart swelled as she witnessed Danny’s gentleness.

“How did you kids like the airplane ride?”

David spoke first. “I pretended you flew us here and you let me sit in the front.  When we lifted up from the ground my tummy jumped. The only other time I felt like that was when Heidi drove the car fast up and down the hills!”

Danny laughed. “And what about you, Ruthie?”

“I shivered on the airplane, Papa. The train was funner.”

Danny laughed. Heidi wrote she taught the children some English, but he recognized they needed a lot more practice.”

“Let’s get going.” Danny hugged Heidi again, picked up their small duffle bag and couldn’t wait to begin their future.

Even though Heidi flew to a different country, she felt at home in Danny’s arms. Marrying him would never be a mistake, and the time they spent apart only intensified her love for him.

Danny led them to a jeep and drove his family to a small flat he rented. They climbed up three flights of stairs, and Danny opened the door which revealed a clean, safe apartment. With all the devastation in London, finding a place on the far west side of the city with a bomb shelter across the street took weeks to find.

Beside a small kitchen, two beds folded up into the walls during the day and served as a living space. Danny hoped Heidi wouldn’t be too disappointed with his choice.

“It is lovely, sweetheart.” She kissed his cheek.

“It’s the best I could do. Flats are scarce. I hope the place isn’t too small.”

Heidi didn’t care about the size of the apartment. For the first time since she left Germany, she felt at home. “We’ll make due.”

 

 

The Projects Are Complete!

For months I’ve been telling you about all of the projects Ken and I started after the first of the year. We were blessed with wonderfully talented people who did a great job with our kitchen, utility room, and of course, the Taj  Garage. The last piece of the picture was completed on Wednesday of this week. The landscaping of a portion of the backyard is done. All I have to do is water the grass seed and plants.

Easy. Right.

Early in the year I bought one of those new fangled hoses that are light weight. I knew 50 feet wasn’t quite long enough to reach the farthest place I needed to water, but I thought if I increased the water pressure, I might be able to get by.

Wrong.

I stretched the hose as far as it would go which resulted in a geyser right in the middle of the hose.

Damn.

I couldn’t repair the leak, so I headed off to hardware store to purchase a new hose. I hoped I could find a 100 ft. light-weight hose, but that would be too easy. The store didn’t possess any length longer than 50 ft. and they hoses couldn’t be put together. So, I grabbed the heavy 100 ft. hose and new nozzle. I headed home, hooked up the disappointing hose to the water supply and began an hour and half of wrestling with this long snake that came alive. It twisted and kinked whenever I pulled on it to reach the places that needed water. After I finally watered all of the planted areas, I went into the house hot, sweaty, and thirsty.

And just think — the landscaper said I should water twice a day. That’s kind of like a doctor telling you to take a vile medicine twice a day.

But the universe stepped in with an inch or two of rain during the night. And today, a light rain is falling, so my watering chores won’t come around tomorrow.

I think I’ll lift weights in the meantime, so when I wrestle with the beast tomorrow, I’ll be ready for a good battle.

#####

APPLE PIE AND STRUDEL GIRLS – BOOK 6 (CONTINUED)

Chapter 6

Naples, Italy, February—The hospital in Naples sat on the Mostra Fairgrounds at Bagnoli, some three or four miles from the heart of the city. The site offered numerous spacious stone buildings in fairly good shape. The location provided everything a hospital operation needed—running water, sewage facilities, and an electric power plant. Good highways and a rail connection provided easy transport for patients. Several buildings had suffered damage from bombings, and the retreating Germans destroyed several more, but the location offered far more advantages than drawbacks.

As Josie settled into her new surroundings, she heard a story of enemy planes hitting this hospital several weeks ago. Eleven people died in the attack and another fifty-five suffered serious wounds, but the medical staff continued to function without interruption. The story shook Josie because she hadn’t fully recovered from Nettuno, so she dreamed of the day when she could tell Donna that show business wasn’t the only profession where “the show must go on.”

*****

Naples kept Josie out of the line of fire, but she suffered nightmares and debilitating fatigue. Instead of jumping out of bed looking forward to the day, she dragged herself from hour to hour. She became indecisive. Her reaction time in the Operating Room slowed. She lost the ability to prioritize tasks. All of the talents she possessed which made her a superior manager seemed to vanish. At times she even felt disconnected from everyone and everything at the Naples Hospital.

During her two years of service in the nursing corps, she handled daily deaths of  the soldiers, but seeing her innocent colleagues mowed down by unprovoked enemy fire proved to be too heavy for her. She needed help, but her pride held her back. The day she froze in surgery and needed to be replaced by another nurse, she reported to her CO to discuss her problems.

“Sir, I realize my transfer request is coming at a horrible time, but I need some help.” Josie lowered her head and looked down at her boots. She held her tears back by biting her cheek. Admitting her inadequacy shamed her.

The Colonel touched the back of his neck before he leaned into the desk. “I will not transfer you, Josie; but I will put you on leave for a month or as long as you need. Your peers are concerned about you. I didn’t want to believe the surgeons because of your exemplary record.”

“I’m sorry to let you down, sir.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You endured too much war. You’re human, Josie. We all get tired when work gets too hard. I need you, but I think you need time to take care of yourself.”

“Please don’t send me to a mental hospital sir.”

He looked her directly in the eye. “I want you to visit my friend, Dr. Jacobsen. He’s a great guy to talk to.”

“The shrink? Really? I need a shrink?”

The Captain stood, walked around the desk and sat in a chair next to Josie.  “Lieutenant, you are a dynamo. Even in this state, you’re still one of my best nurses. This is not weakness in your character. Consulting with Dr. Jacobsen is not a punishment. Hell, I talk with him myself in tough times. Believe me when I tell you working with him will make a world of difference.” He smiled.

Josie mustered a weak smile. “Is that an order, sir?”

The Captain stared at her. “Do you want it to be?”

“No, sir. Thank you, sir.”

“Stop by tomorrow. My assistant will handle the arrangements for you.”

“Is that all sir?”

The Captain patted her hand and stood. “I want you to take yourself off the operating team and concentrate on yourself. Get well, Josie. I need you back in tip-top shape. Only God knows how much longer this war will go on, and we need excellent nurses to take care of our boys.”

Josie stood, saluted him, and turned on her heel to leave. No matter what the Captain said, Josie walked away with a sense of failure.

*****

Every afternoon for over a week, Josie kept her appointment with the hospital psychiatrist to learn how to accept the events keeping her awake at night. Dr. Jacobsen also prescribed a mild sedative to help her sleep. Josie didn’t understand how talking about that awful afternoon would help cure anything, but within two weeks she slept through the night without a nightmare.

Being exiled from the operating room turned out to be the worst part of Josie’s rehabilitation. She loved the work, but she admitted the extra hours of sleep helped her recover. Every day the debilitating fatigue lessened. Slowly, the heavy load she carried lifted.

A couple of weeks after her treatment began, Josie went back to work in the convalescent hospital. She wanted to return to surgery, but the Dr. Jacobsen said she needed more time away from the pressures of the operating room.

Josie found a different satisfaction working with patients recovering from their war wounds. Most days just a smile or a simple touch seemed to bring them comfort. She wondered how many of them she met in the OR.

One day as she went through bed checks in a new ward, someone made a “wolf” whistle. She looked for its source and Mario grinned at her. “Hi doll.”

“Mario! My God! What are you doing in here?”

“I got hit at Anzio.”

She grabbed his chart which hung from the foot of his bed. “You appear to be doing well.”

“I’m better now. You’re a sight for sore eyes, kid.” Mario grinned like he just had been given the best gift in his entire life.

Josie blushed. “How are you getting along?”

“I got an infection after I got here, but I think things are turning around. That new penicillin stuff works wonders. What about you?”

“After the Krauts bombed my hospital, I got deported and ended up here.”

“You were at Nettuno? Jesus God!”

She put her hand on his. “I’m fine Mario. No Kraut bomb is going to get me down. After the attack I kind of went a little nuts, but the doctor says eventually the nightmares will go away. They gave me some time off, and I finally caught up on my sleep. I’m feeling much better.”

“Always the soldier.” Mario reached for her hand. “You’re an amazing girl, Josie; I hope you realize how special you are.”

“Just doing my job like everybody else.” She smiled and checked his pulse.

“After you finish your rounds, do you think you might come back and play a game of checkers with a poor wounded GI?”

“Not ready to dance yet, huh?” Josie smiled.

He belly laughed. “Oh, no, don’t do that!”

“Do what?”

“Make me laugh. It hurts!”

She laughed. “Does crying make you hurt too?”

“I don’t cry.” Mario sad with macho confidence.

“That remains to be seen.” Josie teased. “After I beat you at checkers, I bet you’ll weep like a baby.”

Mario laughed hard again and grabbed his ribs. He didn’t mind the pain because he finally got his first date with Josie.

Chapter 7

Switzerland – February—As one of the first peace-time draftees, Danny learned quickly he hated the Army; being a “grunt” for a year stateside made a miserable existence. He returned home and discovered everything in Lacrosse changed. His buddies enlisted or got drafted, and he now carried a sense of guilt. He needed to be more involved to end the war.

He tried factory work, but the hot, dirty, smelly environment became too dreary to carry on for more than two years. Finally, he decided to enlist in the Air Corps. He always wanted to fly and the thought of jumping into a fast fighter seemed like the perfect job; at least he wouldn’t be tramping through some swamp or hiking through snowy mountains. Danny thought becoming a pilot would be the best—he’d drop a few bombs, head back to base, and down a beer afterward.

On March 12, 1944 he strapped himself into his B-17 bomber to attack German targets along the Swiss border. Once over the target, the bombardier released the bomb payload, and Danny made a sharp right turn to get out of the German line of anti-aircraft fire. After a loud cracking sound, he realized he found some trouble.  The huge plane’s altitude dropped, and he and his crew found themselves alone in the sky.

Two Swiss fighters came out of nowhere and signaled Danny to follow them by waggling their wings. Two German ME-109s joined the party and led him to a landing field in Dubendorf near Zurich.  Landing a B-17 on such a short runway would be dicey, but he needed to land the plane before it crashed. Danny skidded off the runway and ended up plowing through a small wheat field. When the plane came to a stop, a truck full of Swiss soldiers with rifles surrounded the American crew. Danny and his crew lived through the attack and a perilous landing only to become prisoners of war. The crew raised their hands in defeat and Danny glanced back at the bullet riddled B-17. The plane suffered substantial damage to both the fuselage and both wings. Their uneventful landing appeared to be a miracle. Such damage should have caused the plane to dive or crash.

The Swiss Captain spoke in perfect English. “Welcome to Switzerland, gentlemen. Follow me.”

The American crew followed the Swiss soldiers with their hands up. They marched to a military barracks and for the first time during the war, Danny felt fear. Piloting a bomber was hazardous duty, but at least he was in control. As a POW, he relinquished control to his captors.  The Swiss confiscated the airmen’s escape kits and then led them to another building. They ate a good meal and took a cold shower before they went to sleep on cots in a barracks.

The next morning interrogations began. Laying awake all night, Danny mentally prepared himself to endure torture and only give his name, rank, and serial number. To his surprise, the Swiss asked a few questions which really didn’t matter. He didn’t believe they dismissed him so easily.

Within a week, the Swiss sent the crew away. As an officer, Danny took a train destined for Neuchatel—a section of Switzerland bordering France. After he got off the train, he boarded a cable car to the top of a heavily wooded mountain. Four guards with rifles led Danny and two other officers to a large chalet-style lodge.

A guard named Schnell said, “This will be your quarters for the next few weeks while you are quarantined. “You will not be confined. You are free to explore the grounds, if you wish.” Danny and the other prisoners gazed in disbelief.  They all believed they would face guard towers and barbed wire to keep them in prison.

On Sunday, the prisoners went down the mountain in the cable car to attend church services. Danny wandered through the woods during the day, and he laughed to himself as he tried to picture explaining his “confinement” to other guys held captive in harsh enemy prison camps. He spent a pleasant two weeks at Neuchatel. The only hardship he endured during his time there turned out to be boredom.

When their quarantine expired, the prisoners traveled by train through Bern where the train skirted the Aare River. Danny stared out the window enjoying some of the most beautiful scenery he ever saw. At the end of the trip, the prisoners found themselves lodged at the Palace Hotel directly across the street from the German embassy. A German eagle and swastika hung over the front door, and Danny wanted to rip the damn insignia off the building.

The atmosphere at the Palace seemed to be more like a hotel instead of a prison. Danny and the others ate in a dining room where a waiter named Otto served them. He and his fifteen year old assistant Fritz wore formal attire along.. The captive officers enjoyed the good food consisting of  brown bread with butter, seasonal vegetables, Swiss cheese, and a small portion of meat at every meal. Danny actually liked the coffee substitute called Ersatz coffee, which was made from roasted acorns, chicory or some other grain. Prisoners even enjoyed beer with their meals. A local brewery provided two types of the brew–a dark beer called Dunkel and a light beer called Hell. Danny preferred the light colored beer, but he learned to limit himself to one tankard per meal because the Swiss beer contained more alcohol than any beer at home.

During the day, prisoners explored the nearby town, The only rule they must follow was to be present for bed check at nine o’clock. If absent, they would be transferred to a more restrictive prison in Germany. Prisoners even attended concerts and plays during their stay in Switzerland. They enjoyed many comforts and liberties, but the Swiss guards constantly reminded them of their prisoner of war status.

Danny searched for ways to escape because the army expected every man held by the enemy to make an attempt to get back to his unit. On his hikes into town, Danny collected second-hand civilian clothing he hid under his prisoner’s uniform. He stored the clothes under a loose floorboard in the barracks. He hid the contraband from Ken his roommate because the man had a tendency to engage in gossip. Other prisoners bet Ken worked as snitch, alerting the guards of any suspicious behavior.  Possessing forbidden contraband would result in a transfer to a work camp deep into Germany.

Danny worked on his escape plan in his mind. He put most of it together, but he needed to understand the procedures passengers used to board a train. Every evening after diner, Danny took an evening stroll, but instead of heading back to the barracks, he made his way to the train station where he spied from the shadows. A guard stood at the train entrance checking identification papers of the passengers. Danny uncovered the one element he didn’t count on. After his surveillance, he returned to the barracks and lay awake trying to solve this unexpected problem. The answer came to him in a dream, and when he woke, he decided today he would make his escape.

*****

Danny completed his civilian disguise, but now he needed a way to buy a train ticket. He might not be able to forge identity papers, but he could sweet-talk his favorite waitress at the cafe to purchase a ticket for him.

Danny packed a duffle bag after the guards sat down for their morning card game. Most of the prisoners left the property, and they wouldn’t return until mealtime, so Danny stayed out of the line of sight and headed for the woods. He changed into his civilian clothes and headed for the train station. He made his move as the trained pulled away. He jumped aboard the moving train to avoid having to show any papers to a conductor. Two Swiss soldiers witnessed his escape attempt and ran to pluck him from the train. The older one caught hold of his sleeve, but Danny yanked his arm away and the soldier lost his grip and fell backward. Danny moved to a crowded car and took a seat. So far so good. He intended to get off the train in Zurich.

Danny blended with a sea of people as he left the train. He learned from the waitress about an underground organization in Zurich which helped American and British pilots get back to their outfits in France. He headed to the library because the librarian led the resistance group in the city.

He opened the old over-sized wooden door to the building and approached a woman sitting behind the information desk. He cleared his throat before he spoke. “I am Danny. I understand you reserved a book for me.”

She scowled and said under her breath. “I told them not to send me any more “evades.”

Danny remained silent and his face dropped.

The woman wrote a name and address a on a small piece of paper and slipped it into book. She whispered. “Follow the instructions.”

Danny nodded, sat down at a table and pretended to read. When he thought no one carried about his presence, he slipped the note into his pants pocket, and left the library.

Chapter 8

Zurich, Switzerland, March—Danny walked out of town and quickly found the address and name the librarian scribbled on the small piece of paper. The house turned out to be nothing more than a small shack compared to other dwellings in downtown Zurich.

Heidi got a message by courier to expect an American pilot needing safe passage into France. She held vigil for him at the one window facing the street. She spotted the American in an instant. The Brits walked with a rigid posture whereas Americans strolled. The man stepped on the porch and rang the bell.

Heidi waited a few seconds before opening the door. At first Danny thought he went to the wrong address because the female who answered appeared to be a teenager.

He said. “I am looking for frauline Heidi Schiller. The librarian sent me.”

“You found her.” The girl spoke perfect English.  “Please come in.”

Danny stepped into a sparsely furnished living room.

“Why do you want to see me?” The petite girl stared at him without blinking.

“My name is Lt. Daniel Peterson. I need to get back to France. Can you help me?”

“I can.” She paused, “When do you want to leave?”

Danny replied. “As soon as possible. I got shot down in February and lived in a Swiss prison since.”

Heidi learned about pilots the Swiss held, but this man turned out to be the first one who wanted to escape. “I am fluent in French, English and German.” She said with confidence. “I can get you through to Geneva where we will make contact with the Marquis.”

“The Marquis?”

“They are the French resistance group who will take you to France.”

“Okay.” He smiled. “What do I need to do?”

Heidi spoke very businesslike. “Hide.  You will need papers and a new identity which takes a few days. The price is one hundred American dollars.”

Danny wondered whether he should trust this woman-child because she presented herself so methodically. Her businesslike demeanor almost seemed false. “That’s a lot of money.” He said.

“I need to feed three children. That is my price.” She wore a determined look on her face. “How do you Americans say? Take it or leave it?”

Danny smiled at the spunky girl. “Well, if that’s the price, that’s the price.  I will need to go to the bank on Monday.” Danny smiled.

“Very well.” Heidi returned his smile. She thought this American possessed a kind face. “I’ll take you to your room.”

“My room?”

“Yes. You need a place to sleep until Monday, correct?”

“Yes ma’am, but-

She cut him off. “Just follow me.”

The Spartan upstairs bedroom she offered Danny was clean. The single bed looked inviting because he didn’t get any sleep for the past  thirty-six hours.  “Thank you.”

“You are welcome. Supper will be at six o’clock.” She turned and shut the door.

Danny shouted “thank you” before he dropped onto the bed and went right to sleep. He didn’t wake until nine o’clock that evening. He wandered downstairs and found Heidi sitting in a rocking chair in the living room.

“Lt. Peterson. You missed supper.”

“I’m sorry ma’am. I guess I needed sleep more than I thought. The bed is very comfortable. May I please get something to eat?”

“Of course,” she paused, “but next time you are late for supper, you will need to make your own meal.” She stood and Danny followed her into the kitchen like a lost puppy.

Heidi took out a loaf of brown crusty bread from the cupboard, and a wheel of cheddar cheese from the ice box. She spread butter on both sides of the bread, laid a slab of cheese between the bread and toasted the sandwich to a golden brown in a heavy iron skillet. The warm, fresh cheese aroma wafted through the kitchen, and Danny thought about his mother making grilled cheese sandwiches at home. The only thing missing was the Campbell’s tomato soup.

Heidi put the sandwich and a dill pickle in front of him along with a cold glass of milk. “A simple meal.”

“Thank you, Miss Heidi.” He bit into the melted cheese and savored the flavor.  “This is the best sandwich I ever ate.”

She smiled. “That is what you all say.”

Danny wondered how many other Americans she  rescued.

*****

The Monday following his arrival at Heidi’s house, Danny went to the Zurich bank and withdrew a hundred dollars from the account he established when he joined the Air Force. During the two days he lived in Heidi’s house, he grew curious about her; her husband must be Swiss or German so why did she help allied pilots escape?  Did he just walk into some trap? He returned to the house with the money and handed her the one hundred dollars.

She counted the money. “Thank you. We will leave as soon as I get instructions from the Marquis.”

“Heidi?” he said. “I don’t want to be nosy, but where is your husband?”

“I am not married.”

“But–the children?”

“The children are not my blood. I decided to care for them when their parents died.” She showed no emotion.

Danny stared at this strong girl. “You are very kind, Heidi.”

“Thank you.” She blushed, and he recognized her sharp exterior hid a kind soul.

“Can I help you in any way while we wait for the Marquis?”

“I thought you wanted to get back to your unit as quickly as possible.”

“I do, but perhaps you need some help too? One hundred dollars is not enough money to be putting your life in jeopardy.”

“I do this resistance work to feed my children. Other work would take me away from them.  I am sure you understand.”

“Well, not exactly.”

“My choices are to work at the resort as a waitress or a maid cleaning rooms, but I then I would not be home with my children. The work I do is dangerous, but I get what I need.”

“I’m willing to help, if I can.” Danny said.

“Well,” She pondered. “My car is getting older, and I do not believe the vehicle can take another long journey. Can you fix cars?”

“Sure. I worked as a car mechanic in the States.”

“Wonderful! If you can get my car running, then I can escape again if necessary.”

“Again?”

“The story is a long one.”

“Perhaps someday you will tell me what happened to you.”

“Perhaps.”

Danny sensed Heidi didn’t want to reveal more of her personal story, so he changed the subject. “I really enjoy being here with you and your kids. Staying here gives me an idea of what family life is like.”

“Is that something you want, Mr. Danny?”

“Sure. Doesn’t everyone?”

“I do not think about being without the children. My present family just happened. One day I am a single nanny, and the next day I acquire three children who depend on me.”

“And no husband.”

She smiled, “And no husband.”

“That’s not fair.”

“War is not fair, Mr. Danny.”

 

 

 

To Age or Not to Age

Yesterday my friend Jackie and I took a couple of hours to do some shopping. It wasn’t like old times because primarily we were doing grocery shopping, not looking for cute outfits to wear to the office. Jackie has just retired and she is mentally and physically exhausted because she moved back home after living in another place for ten years. And I’m very happy because now I have another friend to “play with” as we go through this retiring chapter together.

This time in our lives feels so weird. We know when we look in a mirror we have grown older, but inside we still feel like young adults. It isn’t until we move around too much we really recognize we aren’t young at all.

This state of mind is hard to explain to someone younger. They see a pudgy woman with gray hair and think of me as old. I guess that’s okay because most of the time they go out of their way to be helpful. That’s one perk of growing older. The downside of the perception is I don’t think like a senior. I’m still willing to give something new a try. I wrote my first novel after age 55 and I never splashed paint on a canvas until I was almost 60. Even now as I write these numbers, I’m cringing inside. How did this happen?

Whenever I utter that phrase, “how did this happen?” Ken says, “You just kept getting up each morning.” And I guess he’s right. Aging seems to take place in the body, while the mind is less affected. Wouldn’t you like to take what you have learned and put it in a different, younger, body with no aches and pains? I think about that a lot. But then again, it’s probably good I can’t transform into a younger self because I know I’d get into trouble.

APPLE PIE AND STRUDEL GIRLS – BOOK 6 (CONTINUED)

Chapter 3

Switzerland, January — The first leg of the hundred and thirty-five mile trip to Vienna, Austria proved to be perilous. The route Dominik decided to travel took them through winding, ice-covered mountain roads. Heidi held her breath most of the way. She closed her eyes  because the sheer sight of the skinny curving roads with no guard rails made her sick to her stomach. The children behaved like angels as they traveled the slippery roads. They understood Heidi wanted them to be quiet by looking at her concerned face. They played quietly with toys Heidi made for them–sock puppets and trucks she carved from soaps.

Once Dominik and Heidi got to Vienna, they needed to find shelter. Dominik rented a hotel room.

“We are lucky, frauline. One room is vacant, but there is a minor problem.” Dominik smirked. “The room only provides two beds.”

“Perhaps we can ask them for a crib for Jacob?” Heidi suggested.

“I tried. No cribs are available.” Dominik dropped his head and looked at his feet felling like he failed her. “I will sleep on the floor.”

“Don’t be silly, Dominik. Of all of us, you need the bed the most. We’ve gotten this far because of you. Driving all that way in such conditions must be exhausting.”

David spoke up, “Dominik, we can share one bed and Heidi, Ruthie and Jacob can sleep in the other.”

Heidi smiled at the boy who became her son. “That is a good idea, David.” Then she turned to Dominik. “It appears there are two good men who can make good decisions.”

Dominik laughed. He rubbed the top of David’s head. “We sure do.”

*****

Dominik acted like a gentle father with the children. He respected Heidi as she mothered the three orphans with genuine love and affection. He also took his cue from her as they passed all the German checkpoints through Austria.

Only one frightening moment happened during their journey. A Nazi Captain at the checkpoint crossing into Switzerland questioned the validity of their papers. However, with the Allies gathering strength across Europe, the officer received orders from his superiors to let the “family” of German citizens be on their way. Heidi breathed deeply when the Captain raised the gate to let them go.

She snuggled beside Dominik, and he placed a kiss on her cheek. “We will be safe, now.” He put the car in first gear and drove through the checkpoint. Heidi relaxed back into the seat realizing they just narrowly escaped capture. People traveling with false papers suffered  long jail sentences.

Dominick laughed. “You worry too much frauline.

Heidi stared at him with disbelief. “Men! You can’t tell me you weren’t concerned.”

Dominik laughed. “No I can’t.”

The distance from Vienna to Zurich was three hundred sixty seven miles. The second half of their trek took another two days to maneuver through the many winding paths others called roads. Their petrol and food supply dwindled, and they needed to find permanent shelter as soon as possible.  After their stay in the hotel, Dominik rented a furnished house for the family. He considered his mission completed. He did his best to save Heidi and the children in less than a week.

When Heidi woke and went into the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the children, she found a note on the dining table.

Dearest Heidi,

I am a coward not to tell you what I am about to do face-to-face. I tried to bring up my intentions many times, but when I studied your innocent face the words in this note didn’t come out of my mouth.

 I left this morning to return to Budapest. I believe my duty now is to help the Rabbi and his family gets out of the city. He did his best to protect the Jews up until now, but I fear his time is running out. I do not trust the agreement the Rabbi made with Eichman to keep the Jews out of harm’s way. When dealing with the devil, agreements will eventually be broken.

 You will be safe now and I can leave with a clear conscience. I hope you understand.

 Your friend, Dominik

Heidi gasped as she read the note. She wondered how she alone could provide for the children. No job. Little money. No help. How would she survive now? Then she remembered the jewels Dora sewed into the hem of their coats.

Chapter 4

England, February—While his brother Peter waded through the English Channel surf to hone his skills for the upcoming invasion, Johnny and the other American pilots now served under the command of a new general. Unlike the commanders before him, this officer possessed very different ideas on how fighter planes should be used in battle. Instead of escorting the bombers to their destinations, the new officer commanded the fighter pilots to use the planes as fighting machines. He ordered the pilots to challenge the enemy and shot them out of the sky.

Captain Don Baker became the commanding officer attached to the 4th Fighter Group. Baker was known in pilots’ circles to be the George S. Patton Jr. in a P-51 Mustang. The captain proved his genius in the cockpit, but he also proved to be a poor shot. Rumors flew he couldn’t hit a Messerschmitt if it flew into his propeller.  The first morning he took command, Baker gathered his pilots in the meeting room. “Gentlemen, now that I’m here, the Fourth fighter Group will be the top unit in the Eighth Air Force. We are here to fight. We’re here to win. If anybody doesn’t believe that, I suggest you transfer to another group. I’m going to fly the arse off each one of you. Those who keep up with me, good; those who don’t, find another unit.”

For two months, Baker kept his promise. He pushed his pilots to the edge, teaching them to engage the Luftwaffe in a deadly game of aerial “chicken.”  Baker counted on the German pilots to break off first.  Now the group flew like a pack of  hungry wolves with one objective–kill the enemy. Backer repeated the litany of their mission; “The fewer Luftwaffe in the air, the fewer Germans to fight–the quicker we go home.”

After flying with Captain Baker, Johnny likened his piloting skills to playing a game of three-dimensional chess at speeds of four hundred miles per hour.  Baker possessed an explosive personality. If a pilot got on his bad side, the poor guy would get transferred.be packing his duffle bag for parts unknown. His unpredictability and flying by the seat of his pants often got him praise or a dressing down by his superiors.

Johnny admired Baker. The man expected his pilots bring their “A” game every time they sat in the cockpit. He offered a challenge in the air, and on the ground he was easy to drink with and easy to kid around with. He made Johnny feel alive again. After so many missions of escorting bombers back and forth from their missions, Baker was a breath of fresh air.

The Eighth Air Force and the RAF encountered intense action in January and February in 1944. Bad weather didn’t hold off a succession of missions which went deeper into Germany.  “Big Week” occurred on February 20,. The Eighth Air Corps sent out a thousand fighters while the British put everything plane in their air service into the sky. The mission targeted a dozen German aircraft factories in central and eastern Germany, along with those in western Poland. They flew menacingly in broad daylight, and this mission would be the biggest air battle the world ever witnessed.

Johnny flew as Baker’s wingman in one of the new American P-51 Mustangs. The powerful plane responded quicker than the P-47 plus it carried enough fuel to accompany bombers during the entire mission. The rein of the Luftwaffe controlling the European skies ceased when the P-51 came into battle. The Germans Messerschmitts didn’t match up with the more powerful American plane.

Unlike previous attempts “Big Week” took the first successful step toward ally air control over Europe.

 

Chapter 5

Anzio, Italy — February 11—A rare sunny day offered a welcomed break for Josie and three other nurses. In celebration of the break in the weather, they skipped down to the beach in a designated safety zone. The nurses relaxed in the sunshine with a cigarette. Josie leaned against a large tree and closed her eyes until she heard a disturbing sound. The distinct whine of a German Stuka grew louder and threatened their safe zone. The nurses stood together near the large olive tree and searched the sky for the intruder.

They witnessed a British Spitfire chasing a Messerschmitt across the sky. The two planes dove and climbed in a dog fight. The British plane soared up and veered to the east, while the Messerschmitt fell from the sky. A tail of smoke emitted from the spiraling German plane, and seconds later a parachute opened. As the Luftwaffe pilot drifted down, the nurses heard the whistle of bombs falling. A thunderous explosion shook the ground, and within seconds the nurses realized before the German pilot bailed out, he dropped his payload of bombs near the hospital.

The nurses sprinted back to the hospital and stared at curls of smoke rising from the tents.  Dismembered and burned patients, doctors, nurses, and corpsmen covered the area. Josie vomited when she saw the corpses of her friends. After composing herself, her leadership skills took over and she began to bark orders to the surviving nurses.

“Find any survivors. Treat them as best as you can. Julie Ann find a radio and get some help up here, Get to it girls.”

The girls scattered and searched each tent. The putrid odor of sulfur stung their eyes, as the sweet, metallic stench of blood permeated everything.  Blankets turned black from the blood of patients who bled out. Only a few feeble cries for help fractured the eerie silence of death. Josie likened the scene to one of her nightmares, but this situation was real.

One of her favorite corpsman, Billy O’Donnell lay with a gaping whole in his chest. Josie checked his pulse and realized he still lived.  Air escaped through his chest wound with every painful breath he took. Josie frantically searched overturned drawers and broken cabinets for instruments and dressings to help him. She clamped his arteries with hemostats as he gasped for breath. Then she stuffed a large wad of gauze into the wound hoping to stop the bleeding. She securely taped the dressing to keep the bandage in place. She searched for a chest tube but found none.

For a second, the young man opened his eyes as she worked. He smiled at her and whispered. “I’m so glad you’re here, Josie. Now I know I’ll be all right.” He slipped back into unconsciousness.

Josie did everything possible to save him, Stretcher barriers appeared out of nowhere. They lifted Billy and ran with his critical condition to the adjacent hospital. Afterward all of the survivors were carried away for treatment at the other hospital at Anzio, Josie cried.

*****

A few hours after the attack the surviving medical personnel of the 95th received orders to transfer to Naples. Renovating the bombed Evacuation Hospital was impossible. The operating room stood in shambles. Most equipment, including the X-ray machine and generator, lay in pieces. The holey canvas tents appeared like cheap mosquito netting. Everything had been reduced to a pile of junk.

In the evening, the survivors of the Nettuno hospital honored their dead workmates with a service lead by the Chaplin at the site of the devastation. A background of exploding shells and other fire seemed appropriate to say goodbye to their brave friends who lost their young lives in a senseless and illegal bombing. Josie prayed and reminisced about the few good times she shared with the deceased members of her team. She walked away with a sense of guilt because she lived through the ordeal and now she would leave this horrid place when so many of her friends must stay forever. Walking away from the burial site she thought this one stroll through hell would last her a lifetime.

Trucks waited to take the remaining members of the 95th beach hospital to an LST waiting off shore.  They traveled through the deserted town of Nettuno where Josie’s nursing career in mainland  Italy began. Bulldozers had pushed bricks, stones, and plaster walls from demolished buildings into a large heap. The few survivors of the medical staff rode silently as they witnessed the rubble.

The silence broke when another shelling began. The truck came to an abrupt stop. Without thinking, everyone jumped off the vehicle and searched for nearby shelter. They found a shallow cellar for protection and laid down face first on the dirt floor. The attack lasted until seven o’clock in the evening. and when  the all-clear siren sounded, the shaken medical staff climbed back into the trucks and continued their journey toward the beach.

The driver sped toward the docks where a LST waited with its ramp lowered. The truck drove up the ramp and onto the landing craft, and before the trucks could be locked down, the motors of the LST rumbled pulling the huge landing craft away from the shore.

Josie cried in the darkness. She suffered fright, cold, and numbness as she stared at the hellish beach. She wondered if she would ever recover from what happened on that small piece of sand at Anzio. Then the guilt came again. Why did she live and so many others died?

*****

The fresh sea air and the rocking motion of the LST released some of the anxiety Josie lived with for so many tiring days. Sitting on the edge of life and death every day proved to be the toughest experience she ever encountered. In the distance, flashes of exploding shells reflected against the low-hanging clouds. Orange tracers from machines guns enhanced the light show and Josie thought if she didn’t realize these colorful lights brought death and suffering, she might consider them beautiful. When the beach they left behind slipped into the dark night, she thanked God for keeping her safe. The twenty days she served at Nettuno seemed like a life time.

The LST stopped beside a large ship, and the medical personnel climbed aboard. Sailors led the nurses from deck to deck until they reached the galley. Josie sniffed the scents emitting from the kitchen and her mouth watered. Pork chops? Really? She thought her mind must be playing tricks on her because she hadn’t eaten anything in the past twenty four hours. Since arriving at Anzio, she never consumed a hot meal.

Fifteen minutes later, Josie shared at a table with the three other nurses who survived the attack on the hospital. They savored a meal of pork chops, beans, bread, and apple pie for dessert. As long as she might live, Josie would never forget this meal at sea, and she would never again take simple good food for granted.