Chapter Thirty-One

July 28, 1944

Dear Madge,

It’s been four days since I got a letter from Ted. It was dated July 15, the day before he went down. I know there is little chance that I will get any more, but I can’t help but hope that there are more, somehow lost in the process of being forwarded from Ellingham. He must not have gotten my letter telling him I’d been transferred to High Wycombe. I remember that I almost called him after I got here. Now I wish I had.

This small stack of letters is all I have left. And those silly little pictures. I will treasure them all the rest of my life. He was the love of my life, and there will never be anyone else. Never. I knew it that day on the beach, when I first saw him. I knew that fate or God or some unknown force brought us together and meant for us to be together, always. That’s why when I saw him here in England, I couldn’t help but be drawn to him. It had nothing to do with you.

I know you’ll say that someday I’ll meet someone else, but I don’t think so. I loved him so much, still love him. I’ll always love him.

I know you loved him, too. And I’m sorry you were hurt. But it wasn’t the same. We had a connection from the beginning—from that day on the beach. He felt it, too. We were meant for each other. And I am so grateful that we found each other, that we had some time together, short as it was.

When we were in Norwich, he made me promise to always remember him. He knew that this could happen. That his plane could be shot down. I didn’t want to promise because it meant that I knew he wouldn’t make it, and I couldn’t bear to think about it. But he made me. I promised—to remember him always, for the rest of my life. And I will. I will never forget him.

I try to read his letters every night. But when I do the tears start anew. The pain is unbearable. You can’t know how much I want to see him again, feel his arms around me. But I know I have to accept what has happened. What else can I do? He’s gone.

Please write to me. Please be my friend. I need a friend, and you are the only one that truly understands about Ted.

Kitty

****

“Greenlee, get in here.”

General Lake never shouted like that. Something must be wrong. She grabbed her book and hurried into his office.

“I’ve…I’ve…” He wrung his hands and paced.

“Sir?”

“Take a letter. No, a memo. To General Doolittle. No. Dammit!”

“Sir?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Greenlee. I’m just so frustrated.”

“Can I help?”

“No…I don’t know.” He stopped pacing and looked at her. “They just don’t understand. No matter what I say, they don’t understand.” He turned away again. “It was terrible about those boys. But the wind blew the signal smoke back over our troops. We dropped short. It was horrible, terrible, yes, but it had nothing to do with the flight path.”

Kitty listened, unsure what he was talking about.

He turned to face her again and pounded his fist into his hand as he continued. “If our planes had gone in at that low altitude parallel to the enemy line, they would have been decimated by anti-aircraft fire. We couldn’t expose them to that kind of fire.” He continued to pound his fist in sync with his words. “We had to hit it on a perpendicular line, dump the bombs on the damn Germans, and get the hell out of there. There was no other way to do it.”

He stopped and looked at her. “You understand, don’t you?”

Instinctively, Kitty nodded. She had no idea what he meant, only that he was trying to justify something to do with the bombing.

“It was a dirty shame the bombs fell short. But it couldn’t be helped. This is war. Things happen that we don’t expect.”

“Yes, sir,” she responded. He was talking about the day we bombed our own troops. She’d seen some of the reports, the casualties, even a general had been killed. Her stomach knotted. She’d been ashamed of the Air Force. It should never have happened. There could be no excuses. Yet here was General Lake making excuses.

The telephone on his desk rang. He answered it, and his face went pale. When he hung up he turned to Kitty. “You may go, Greenlee. I have to report to General Doolittle.” He came toward her and placed his hand on her arm. “You’ve done a good job, Sergeant. An excellent job.” He left her standing there alone and wondering what was going on.

Kitty returned to her desk and her reports.

Later Captain Shelley approached Kitty’s desk. “Sergeant Greenlee.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kitty stopped typing and quickly got to her feet.

“Would you come to my office?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Kitty grabbed her pad and pencil and followed the captain.

“Have a seat. And you won’t need that.” She shut the door as she spoke.

Kitty held the pad self-consciously and sank into the chair. She knew Captain Shelley didn’t like her, didn’t like the way General Lake had brought her into the office. After Kitty’s arrival, when she discovered the many, capable secretaries at Eighth AF Headquarters, she didn’t blame her. Despite the circumstances, the captain had remained professional and accepted Kitty into the organization.

The officer settled down behind her desk and clasped her hands in front of her. “I’ve just been informed that General Lake is being reassigned, back to the states…effective immediately.”

The captain’s words struck like a punch in the gut. Kitty struggled to maintain her composure, aware that Captain Shelley watched her closely.

“That leaves you in an awkward position,” the officer continued.

“Yes, ma’am.” Kitty focused on the wall beyond the captain, kept her body rigid. She didn’t know what to say. Better to say nothing. Not ask questions.

“As you are aware,” Captain Shelley continued, “we have sufficient staff. Without the general, your services will not be needed.”

Kitty’s heart sank. She blinked back tears and hoped the captain didn’t see her hands shaking as she gripped the pad even tighter. “Yes, ma’am,” she managed, then swallowed hard before continuing. “Will I be reassigned?”

“Yes.” Captain Shelley paused. “Right now, I’m not exactly sure where.”

Kitty fought hard as the old panic crept through her. Alone, into the unknown. Would she make it? Without Madge or Milton or…Ted? Despite her frantic blinking, a tear escaped and slid down her cheek. Much as she wanted to brush it aside, she remained still, desperately holding on.

Captain Shelley studied her. She must have seen the tear because her expression softened. “I didn’t realize you were so…close to General Lake.”

“Ma’am?”

“I can understand your being upset that he’s been reassigned, but we’re in a war, and we all must make sacrifices.” Her voice was hard, unfeeling.

“Oh, I understand sacrifices!” Kitty couldn’t contain her outburst. “And I don’t care about General Lake.”

The captain’s expression showed concern—and curiosity.

Kitty turned away and swiped at the tears she couldn’t stop. “I didn’t mean that,” she muttered. “It’s…it’s just been so much.” She shook her head. “Too much.”

“Perhaps you should explain.” The sympathy in her voice drew Kitty out.

Kitty looked up into her eyes. Tell her, she ordered herself. Tell her the truth.

“An airman, on a B-17. He was shot down.” The words tumbled out. “And my brother. In the infantry. Wounded. Bad. So bad.” She shook her head, fighting the pain that accompanied the memories.

“This airman. You were in love with him.” She wasn’t asking.

Kitty nodded.

“He didn’t get out?”

Kitty shook her head.

Captain Shelley’s lips pursed as if she were trying to contain her own emotions. She nodded, her eyes went to a framed photo on her desk. Kitty realized this woman had also suffered loss.

“And your brother, where is he?”

Kitty drew a ragged breath. “In a hospital, near Liverpool. They’ll ship him home as soon as they can.”

“Have you seen him?”

The image of Milton, bandaged and helpless, came to mind. Kitty could only nod in response, her lips trembling.

“Well,” the officer sighed. “Unfortunately, it changes nothing. You will be reassigned.” She paused, looking directly at her.

Kitty could feel the officer’s scrutiny. “Will I remain in England?” If General Lake was going back home, would she go too?

“More than likely.” Captain Shelley flipped through some papers on her desk. “You’ve worked hard, Sergeant. And you have a high enough security clearance. There might be a position at SHAEF. Would you be interested?”

Her spirits rose. “Of course. I’ll go wherever I’m needed.”

The captain looked at her warily. “Yes, you will. You will go where you are ordered to go. The job at SHAEF would be challenging, but then you do have experience dealing with difficult men.”

Kitty chose not to respond. She’d learned to take the jabs about her relationship with General Lake and not let them get to her.

“That will be all, Sergeant. For now, you will continue to work in the secretarial pool. I will let you know as soon as a decision is made.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Kitty quickly left the office.

Her knees went weak as what just happened sank in. She dropped into her chair and sat in a daze.

“I see you’ve heard.” General Lake approached.

Kitty tried to stand, but he waved her to return to her seat.

“They’re sending me back to the States, the Pentagon.” He shook his head, resigned to his fate. “You’ll be all right. They’ll find a place for you.”

“Yes, sir.” She wouldn’t tell him about SHAEF. It might not happen. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’ve done a good job, and don’t you forget it.” He patted her on the shoulder and disappeared into his office.

Suddenly, the tears returned. She was all alone.

Oh, Ted. Why did you have to die? Why you? Why?

****

Her orders stated, “Report immediately.”

Captain Shelley told her to pack her things and be on the afternoon train to London. By nightfall she’d be in new quarters, by morning she’d have a new job. She wouldn’t know anyone. Not that it mattered.

She climbed the stairs and made her way down the hall. The room was dark so she flipped on the light. Something rustled in the corner. She’d forgotten about Caroline. The girl worked nights as a teletype operator and slept during the day. With five girls sharing the same room, one on nights relieved some of the congestion.

Kitty quietly pulled out her duffle bag and began the process of packing. She’d done it often enough to know exactly how to methodically fold and pack each item. The Army had taught her to be organized, and her many moves made packing an automatic process.

She picked up the box of letters, Ted’s letters. Her fingers ran along its edges. She was tempted to open it, to read one of his letters, to gaze at the silly photos.

Her throat tightened. If she read even one word, she wouldn’t be able to stop the tears.

No, wait until later, when you are a little stronger.

She set the box aside, saved it for last. She’d stuff them into the top of her bag after everything else.

The underthings she’d washed out the night before should be dry by now. She trekked down the hall to the bathroom to retrieve them along with her other toiletries. While there, she splashed cold water on her face to cool her emotions. She needed to get hold of herself. Be strong.

She thought of Milton’s constant encouragement when she was younger. She promised herself she wouldn’t let him down, as she headed back down the hall.

Suddenly, deafening noise engulfed her.

The ceiling crashed in.

Her arms went up to cover her head.

The side wall collapsed, slammed into her, pushed her down.

She slid to the floor and curled into a ball to protect herself as the roof, or maybe the whole building, collapsed on top of her.

She must have lost consciousness for a short time. When she came to, she blinked to get her bearings. She tried to get up. Her head swam. Her stomach reeled, and its contents threatened to erupt. She tightened her throat to keep it down.

She got to her knees and pushed aside broken plaster, splintered wood, wires. A large beam stood at a precarious angle, leaning against something above. It must have protected her from being crushed.

Dust and smoke assailed her nostrils. She blinked and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand to clear her vision. Her body ached, but everything seemed to function.

On her feet, she held onto the remains of one wall. Around her wood and plaster and hanging wallpaper formed a jumbled, splintered mess. Somehow the hallway floor remained intact.

She looked back toward the stairwell.

I have to get out of here before the building collapses.

The doorway to her room leaned awkwardly only a few steps away.

Ted’s letters. His pictures. I have to get them. They’re all I have.

Nothing else mattered. She didn’t want to live without them.

She pushed herself through the dangerously angled doorway and into the room. Flames shot up through a hole where the floor and back wall had been only moments before. Beyond the fire, a green field loomed in the distance.

Straight ahead she could see them, scattered across the floor where the box had fallen. She stumbled forward, a few more feet and she could scoop them up.

A groan came from somewhere nearby.

She turned, surveyed the wreckage. Flames licked the edges. Smoke billowed into the room like a chimney that wouldn’t draw.

Caroline lay on the floor, the shattered wood of a rafter on top of her.

The injured girl tried to move and moaned again. Blood stained the sheet partially wrapped around her midsection.

Kitty looked from Caroline back to the letters. Flames skittered across the floor toward them. If she didn’t grab them in the next few seconds, they’d be gone.

Ted would be gone.

She had to get them. She lunged toward them reaching out.

A scream of anguish pierced the smoke.

Caroline struggled to free herself. She couldn’t get out from under the debris. Without help, she would die.

Something crashed below them, and the flames leapt higher.

Kitty turned away from Ted, from his letters, from all she had left.

She tugged at the splintered board, pain stabbed her bare hands. She managed to shove the beam aside, freeing Caroline.

Kitty grabbed the injured WAC by the shoulders and pulled her to her feet.

“Hold on to me,” she screamed over the growing roar of the fire.

Kitty stripped off her jacket and wrapped it around the other woman. Holding Caroline around the waist, Kitty maneuvered her toward the hallway. The scorching heat from the swirling inferno followed them.

She pushed Caroline through the angled, burning doorframe. Searing pain shot through Kitty’s arm. She gritted her teeth and shoved the injured girl ahead of her, pushing aside debris as they made their way down what remained of the hallway. Smoke enveloped them, filled her lungs. Both women coughed and stumbled toward the miraculously still-intact stairwell.

Lightheaded from lack of oxygen, Kitty feared they would both tumble down the stairs. Stubborn determination kept her going. Somehow they reached the bottom.

Caroline sank to the floor coughing, unable to continue. Kitty joined her, gasping for breath.

Light shone through the broken windows of the front door.

Something inside Kitty drove her to keep going, to survive. She gathered her strength and dragged Caroline’s limp body toward the light, toward safety, toward life.

****

She lay in a sterile, impersonal hospital with clean sheets, a bandaged arm, and burning pain. The antiseptic smell barely penetrated the smoke still lingering in her nostrils.

Tears stung her eyes. Then the cough returned, wracking her body as if her insides would come out.

“Here, drink this.” A nurse stuck a glass straw to her lips. She sucked in the sweet, wet liquid. Weak English tea. After a few sips, she pulled back.

The nurse set the glass on the table by the bed.

“That doodlebug almost got ya’.” She smiled as she tucked in the sheets. “These new ones don’t give no warning. Just bam. Either they get ya’ or they don’t.”

V-2 rockets. Kitty remembered being told about them. How they struck anytime anywhere. The old ones, the V-1’s, buzzed to warn you they were coming. Buzz bombs the English called them. She remembered hearing the terrifying sound once, months before.

But there had been no warning.

The nurse moved on to the next bed. “How are you doin’, miss?”

Kitty rolled her head to see the patient beside her.

Caroline had bandages on her head and neck. Her shoulder and arm were encased in plaster. The visible portion of her face was swollen and bruised.

“Okay,” Caroline murmured.

The nurse tucked the sheets tightly around Caroline’s waist. “Just let me know if ya’ need a thing.”

Caroline tried to nod.

Kitty watched the nurse walk away. Then she closed her eyes. The pain in her arm was excruciating. She had never experienced anything like it. She thought of Milton. Did he hurt like this? No wonder he’d looked so awful.

Do I look awful? Ha!

The small, sarcastic laugh came unbidden.

What does it matter? There’s no one to see me. No Ted.

Tears overflowed and spilled down her cheeks.

Oh, Ted. Why did you have to leave me? Why? I’d just found you. Just started to get to know you.

She squeezed her eyes tight, trying to stop the tears, knowing if she didn’t the dam would burst and she’d never be able to stop.

“Kitty?”

She quickly blinked, tightening her throat to stop the sobs threatening to emerge. Then she drew in a deep breath and forced herself to look at Caroline. “What?”

“I just wanted…wanted to tell you… Thank you for saving my life.”

The words stabbed through her, their sound penetrating her heart as surely as a sword. He had said those words, those very words, that day in the gazebo. That day he told her why he hadn’t recognized her. “I thought you were an angel,” he’d said. “My angel.”

Her body convulsed. She doubled over as the sobs came in uncontrollable waves mixed with coughing. She gasped and sobbed and tried to scream.

Oh, Ted. No. No. No.

The nurse was holding her. She grasped the warm body, someone, anyone.

The needle prick barely penetrated her agony.

Finally, she lay back, the nurse still stroking her and telling her it would be all right. But Kitty knew nothing would ever be all right again.

She wanted to go home. Wanted to turn back the clock and go back to when she was safe and happy, surrounded by her family, her friends, even her sisters.

It hadn’t turned out so well. This adventure of hers hadn’t turned out at all.

Her thoughts drifted into the fog. She felt nothing. Darkness closed in, and she slid into oblivion.