So different this time, Joe thought as he looked around. All on board seemed to bear the stamp of having been this way before. Rumours came and went that the war was coming to an end. He slept spasmodically but was wide awake as they landed. A different driver, he noticed.
“How’s good old Aussie?” the young man asked.
“As great as ever!” Joe answered. How these young men must yearn for home, he thought.
Back at base, he was soon meeting Hugh in his office. At first their communication was as friend to friend. After the initial greeting, Hugh asked, “How are you really feeling, Joe?”
“Still in a bit of an unreal world,” Joe answered.
“Are you ready for this?”
“I think so, Hugh.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Joe. You know this traumatic experience is not a twenty-four hour phenomenon. Losing a close friend can be mighty hard.”
“I know, Hugh.” He knew no one, except his two friends, could hope to understand how he felt. They alone knew that this was an extension of what he had lived through in the past couple of years. And they alone knew the depth of the friendship and love he and Naomi had shared.
“Okay. If you feel up to it. We certainly are grateful for your return. But feel free to ask for time out if you need it.”
“Thanks, Hugh.”
“So – now to work. You’ll find things on the Base similar to before. Too many casualties! Too many young lives taken or maimed for life. Too many! It’s coming to an end. At best it will be a ‘no win’ on both sides. At worst – who knows!”
“Nearly time for mess call. Time to unpack and freshen up. The boys will be pleased to see you back.”
“Thanks for everything,” Joe spoke softly as he left.
The ‘boys’ were indeed pleased to welcome him back. Without the tragic circumstances, it was not unlike a school reunion, thought Joe. Many of the old crew were present. But, Joe noticed, many new faces and some of the old missing.
He slept spasmodically and was showered and ready for the day when breakfast call came.
At that time he had begun his Office. As he returned his breviary to the drawer, he knew when and if he would finish his Office for the day – or for any day for that matter – would depend on the unknown.
However, for this particular day nothing unforeseen happened. Yet, by no means could any day be classified as ordinary. He spent most of this day in his office – so many were hungry for news of home, some needed a willing ear for their fears of different magnitude, some sought the blessing of Reconciliation, all were genuinely happy to see the return of their chaplain. As the day wore on he was called to the camp hospital. A young soldier, badly wounded, had made the request.
Each time entering his ward, Joe invariably experienced feelings of sadness and horror. This time feelings were no different. He soon found the young soldier who had asked for him.
After prayers of absolution and blessing, Joe continued to sit beside the young man. Together they talked – of the ferry trip across Sydney Harbour to Manly, of the grandeur of the Blue Mountains from the scenic railway, of the excitement of fronting and riding the breakers on Bondi Beach, of the country beyond the Mountains where the young man’s grandparents lived, of the new Zoo planned for the Western Plains. When the young man fell into a disturbed sleep, Joe moved around the other beds, available to all as priest and friend.
For the first few days of his return, life was similar, yet each day different. On the third morning, he was called to Captain Brown’s office.
“Come in. Sit down.” The stiff welcome contrasted with the usual casual greeting. “This is highly confidential, I must stress,” continued Hugh. Joe nodded.
“As I told you before, this war is heading toward an end. We have been ordered to send a contingent, comprised of some of our highly trained men, on what could be the last stand-off of the war. A group of South’s fighters, retreating back to this base, have been cut off in a little village. We’re flying in a contingent just south of the village to help get them out. Morale is not high. Those in command agreed that a chaplain – you, in particular – would boost the spirit of the exercise. But, they insist – this is not a command. It is a request that you are free to refuse.”
Joe smiled. “Of course I’ll go, Hugh.”
“Thanks, Joe. I can’t give you more details right now. You’ll be briefed when the final decision is made.”