Still, he had not officially signed up of his own accord. So Noah spent his days alone, feeling at loose ends. They had a little house, one among thousands of rows of married housing. All the houses looked the same and were painted the same color, a light pink. Oftentimes, Noah got confused and went into someone else’s house. He hated how everything looked the same.
There was a pool and a theater nearby and other kids, too, children of the enlisted married men. But he couldn’t bring himself to make friends with them.
Noah had changed. His mind was still in the mountains. At night, he dreamed of skiing, of rock climbing, of scaling a granite wall. And during the day, he just kept thinking of how hot it was. On the walls of his room, Noah kept pinups of mountains from the camp newspaper, the Blizzard. The paper was the joke of the army. While other military papers had a pinup girl in each issue, the Blizzard had a pinup mountain. Noah waited each week to see which mountain would be featured and was always elated when it was one of the mountains he had scaled or skied.
He ran. He ran ten to twelve miles in the hot summer heat. He ran up into the hills near the camp, and among the brush weed that surrounded married housing. When he came back from running, he swam two miles in the pool, while other boys near his age splashed and played beside him and ogled the officers’ daughters. He couldn’t seem to join in.
At night, his uncle would come and get him and take him back to join the others in the single men’s barracks. Noah had become a celebrity. Everyone was proud of what he had accomplished back at Camp Hale, now knowing that he had only been fifteen. Wiley, Cam, Roger, and Bill cheered each time he entered the mess hall. Even Daniel offered him a smile. It wasn’t enough. He missed being with them. He missed the unit. He missed the mountains. At night, he would sit with the rest of the 85th, 86th, and 87th, watch color slides of alpine scenes, and wish himself back there.
Noah knew he wasn’t the only one suffering. They all were. But it was different for him. He was home now. It shouldn’t have felt so strange.
When he ran and swam, he thought. And his thoughts just confused him more. Who was he? The Texas farm boy who’d left Austin after his parents’ death? Or the mountain boy who’d found a passion he’d never thought he had?
Noah thought about what his uncle had said. How had he ever lived or felt comfortable here?
Then an idea came to him, a crazy idea, but one that might settle some questions for him.
It would be a long run, but he could hike part of the way. He figured it would take him all day, maybe even into the night. But Noah didn’t care. Just the possibility that he could find some answers filled him with hope and determination.
So one dry, hot morning, Noah picked up a few canteens and filled them with water. He packed a knapsack with food. He wrote his uncle a note, telling him where he’d gone and that he’d be back in a day or two.
Then Noah strapped on the rucksack and headed out of the house. He closed the door behind him. He was headed for home.
Noah could see the house from a distance, rising out of the tall grasses, the flattened fields. He was tired. It had taken him longer than he had expected. He had spent the night on the ground.
As he neared the white farmhouse, he slowed. He could feel his heart pounding. At the bottom of the steps to the front porch, he stopped, hesitant to go farther. But the house was empty, the FOR SALE sign fallen to the ground.
Noah went up onto the front porch, pushed open the door, and walked in. His footsteps echoed through the halls and rooms. Immediately, memories came flooding back.
He remembered dinners together, he and his mother and father always sitting in the exact same chairs every night. He remembered Saturday night checkers games with his father and summer afternoons drinking lemonade in front of the fan with his mother. He remembered waking to the sound of his father’s tractor.
And he began to feel good again, safe and warm. He remembered what it was like to have a home. And in the stillness, he could hear his voice and his mother’s and father’s, all laughing together. It seemed wrong that the place was so abandoned.
Noah walked around the house and then stepped out back. The sun blinded him for a minute, and then he saw his parents’ gravestones, standing just as he remembered.
Noah picked some wildflowers and laid them at the base of the stones.
“Hi, Ma,” he whispered. “Hi, Pa.”
The wind whistled through the grasses. Noah felt his parents there, with him now. He sensed they were close. He felt sure in that moment that they could hear him, and that they wanted him to speak.
“I’m okay,” he said aloud, feeling a bit silly. “Uncle Shelley’s been taking real good care of me.”
Noah sat down. He reached out and let his fingers brush his mother’s name, carved in stone.
“Ma?” he whispered. “I’m real confused, about this war, about fighting. And about how someone like Uncle Shelley, who’s so different from what you taught me to be, can be such a good man. Because he is, Mama. He really is. He’s a good man.
“And Pa,” Noah continued, turning to his father’s stone, “I wish you could help me with what kind of man I should be, because I just don’t know. I just don’t know who I am or where I belong in all this.
“I just wish you hadn’t gone. I wish I knew why it had to be time for you both to go,” Noah finished.
Noah felt something heavy on his shoulder and turned to find his uncle standing behind him. In the driveway, Noah could see a jeep. He hadn’t even heard the vehicle pull in.
“Jeesh, boy,” his uncle said, “you scared the living daylights out of me, leaving that way.”
“I had to come home,” Noah said.
“Yeah,” his uncle replied. “I can see that.”
Noah looked up at his uncle. “Uncle Shelley, I’m real confused.”
His uncle nodded. “I know, Noah boy. I heard you. You don’t know where you belong now, and I know that feeling ’cause I’ve been there. It wasn’t easy when I left home. I wasn’t sure I’d done the right thing. Even now, I’m not sure if I did what was best. But I’ve learned something from you, Noah.”
Noah looked at his uncle questioningly.
“Look around,” James Shelley commanded.
Noah did. He saw the grasses and the flatness and the sameness of it all.
“This here,” his uncle said, “this is your childhood, safe, secure, predictable.
“And the mountains,” he continued, “they’re your future. ’Cause you know, boy, life ain’t flat and plain. It’s convoluted, with twists and turns and dangers that no one can know. But at the same time, it can take your breath away, it’s so darn beautiful.”
“But how come I feel funny here now?” Noah asked.
Noah’s uncle sighed. “Because it’s behind you, Noah. Just like my past is behind me now, whether it was right to leave or not. But don’t worry. It’s still a part of both of us. And it always will be. It’s what gives us the strength to face the mountains, Noah. It’s what will give you the foundation to face life.”
Noah turned and looked out over the fields. A hawk rose high in the air, turning and spiraling.
Noah turned back to his uncle. Skeeter was right. “Uncle Shelley,” he began.
His uncle held up his hand. “Aw, come on. Please don’t say it. I’m not an idiot. You’re my biggest fan now. I get it. Let’s leave it at that, okay?” He began walking back toward the jeep. “Come on. I’ve got to get back.”
Noah sighed. He would never be able to tell James Shelley he cared about him. But Shelley knew, and maybe that was good enough. Noah looked one more time at his parents’ gravestones. He guessed he had his parents’ answer. They had sent his uncle to him yet again. And Shelley was right. Wherever he went, his life in Texas would be a part of him. But it could no longer be all of him. It was time to move on.
Noah stood up and headed toward his uncle and the jeep, knowing that in taking those last steps away from here, he was finally le
tting the past go.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Skeeter was waiting for them when they returned. “We’re leaving, Shelley. Orders are to move to Virginia beginning of November.”
“Virginia?” James Shelley said.
Skeeter nodded. “I’ve heard we won’t be there long before we’ll be shipping out. Now that the Allies are in France and the Germans are fighting hard in Italy and Germany itself, they need every last man here to finally end this thing.”
Noah’s uncle turned to look at Noah. “Guess I knew this moment would come sometime, boy. Looks like we’ll be parting ways soon.”
Noah’s heart sank.
“When we first got here, I arranged for you to stay with one of these military families on base,” his uncle continued. “Guess we’d best be about introducing you to them tomorrow.”
“But where are you being sent?” Noah said. “Won’t they tell you?”
Skeeter shook his head. “We won’t know until we’re on board ship. They want to maintain secrecy as long as possible.”
“But what if they send you to Germany?” Noah asked, trying to keep the panic from his voice.
“Then we go to Germany, boy,” Noah’s uncle said. “We do as we’re ordered. You know that.”
Skeeter laughed. “Don’t worry about your uncle. His hide’s too tough to shoot through. And the Germans will give him back if they ever get him. They wouldn’t want him.”
Noah’s uncle guffawed. “See, Noah boy, nothing to worry about.”
Noah just nodded, but in that moment, he thought back to what his uncle had said to him just a few hours ago. His past was behind him, but the future of his uncle and others like him was now in the balance. Noah could no longer hide. He may not believe in fighting, but he did believe in family. It was time to face the mountain.
Noah walked in late the next morning to find his uncle and Skeeter waiting for him.
“Where have you been?” his uncle roared. “I thought I told you we had to go this morning to see those folks who agreed to take you. I got to get you settled before I ship outta here. I don’t need to be worrying about you right now.”
“Calm down, Shelley,” Noah said quietly.
“Calm down?” James Shelley roared. “Calm down? Who are you to tell me to calm down?”
“One of your boys,” Noah said. “I’m one of the boys who will be sailing with you to wherever.”
“What in Sam Hill are you talking about, Noah?” his uncle said, his eyes suddenly narrowing.
“I guess you forgot I’m sixteen, old enough to sign up,” Noah said. “I’m going with you, Shelley. I enlisted with the Phantoms.”
After the initial shock wore off, Noah’s uncle went crazy. “You need permission to sign up when you’re only sixteen! You haven’t got permission.”
Noah laughed. “Yes, I do. You already signed permission when we were at Camp Hale.”
“But I was lying,” his uncle fumed.
“But only the general and the boys in the division know that. Want me to tell the authorities here?” Noah asked. “Then maybe you’d be court-martialed and unable to go. We could both stay home.”
Noah’s uncle’s eyes bulged with anger.
Skeeter yanked Noah outside before his uncle really started shouting.
“I don’t see what he’s so worked up about,” Noah muttered, as Skeeter hurried him out of sight. “He did some crazy things when he was my age.”
Skeeter sighed. “He’s just scared, Noah. He doesn’t want you near the fighting.”
“I just want to be with him,” Noah protested.
“I know that’s what you want, Noah,” Skeeter said. “But your uncle loves you. He doesn’t want you hurt. He knows you only signed up to be with him. And the bottom line is this: You’ve only just turned sixteen, and you’ve been raised a pacifist. And while I’ll be the first to admit that you could hold your own with the best of us, you’re still a kid, a kid who doesn’t really understand the world yet and who doesn’t believe in war. You deserve to grow up a little more before you do something like this.”
“But I am grown up, Skeeter,” Noah argued. “I feel funny with the officers’ kids here. I belong with you guys and with my uncle.”
Skeeter smiled slightly. “Yeah, I bet you feel funny, Noah. You’ve grown up fast. But in a war, there’s more growing up to do. And nobody wants you growing up that fast.”
Noah didn’t say anything, but for a moment, he felt a twinge of doubt. Had he made a mistake by signing up?
Twelve weeks later, Noah stood looking at the SS Argentina as it lay in the harbor the day they were to set sail from Virginia to join the war effort. A chilly December wind blew off the water. Enlisting had seemed like the absolute right thing to do that distant morning in Texas. But now that the time had come for them to actually head for combat, Noah’s stomach felt odd and his mouth strangely dry.
The dress uniform he wore was scratchy and overstarched, and the patches they’d just received with a mountain and two crossed rifles too stiff. They were no longer the 85th, 86th, and 87th. They had a brand-new name to go with their deployment — the Tenth Mountain Division. Noah had stood for a long time in front of the mirror when he had first put the uniform on this morning. The boy who had stared back at him looked calm and ready, a true soldier. Noah wished he felt as confident as he looked.
He gazed out at the ocean, wondering what he would find over there, wondering where they were going, wondering if he would even be alive at the end of this war to return to Texas or the mountains or anywhere else in the United States.
Two sailors walked up the gangplank, laughing and carrying canvas bags slung over their shoulders.
“Yeah,” one said, “we’re taking a bunch of skiers on board. Imagine that!”
“Skiers?” the other asked. “What division are they with?”
The first one shrugged. “Some group named the Tenth Mountain Division. But I hear people call them the Phantoms.”
“Phantom skiers, huh?” The other sailor laughed.
“Yeah.” The first sailor chuckled. “Sounds crazy to me, too, but I hear they’ve got some good poker players, so maybe the trip won’t be a total bust.”
The two sailors laughed again and headed onto the boat.
Noah watched them go, feeling even more uneasy. Not only was he sailing away toward war and battles, but he was sailing with a group of soldiers who were the laughingstock of the military. They were skiers. What could they do?
A hand landed on Noah’s shoulder. His uncle stood beside him. He hadn’t spoken much to Noah even after he calmed down about Noah’s enlisting. The rest of the unit and Skeeter and the general were with him. They all stood looking at the SS Argentina.
“Well,” James Shelley finally said, “let’s load up and go to war.”
The boat was cramped, and Wiley and Cam were seasick from the beginning. Everyone was jittery, talking too much or not talking at all. Everyone wanted to know where they were headed and what their mission would be, but secrecy was still being maintained.
Noah didn’t say much, either. Although he felt fine, the closeness of the ship and the strangeness of actually leaving the United States for the first time in his life made the trip seem almost unreal to him. And while he liked watching the water crash into the boat as they made their way, he wished it were a pleasure voyage he was on and not one so fraught with danger.
After two days at sea, the intercom suddenly sprang to life, and the general’s voice rang out loud and clear. “Well, boys, it’s safe to tell you now. How many of you would like to know where this boat is headed?”
There was a sudden hush. Even Wiley and Cam sat up, color rushing to their white faces.
“Italy,” the general called out. “We’re going to Italy, boys! And we’re going after the Germans who have holed up in the Alps!”
Everyone went wild. There was clapping and cheering and hooting and hollering. Wiley leaped from his bunk and swung Cam a
round, sending Cam to the head once more and making everyone laugh. Only Noah and his uncle stayed silent. And Noah wondered just what going after the Germans atop those Alps would mean to them both.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
The loudspeaker on the boat was playing Bing Crosby’s “I’ll Be Home for Christmas” when they entered the harbor at Naples, just two days before the holiday. The irony was not lost on Noah.
Wiley, Bill, Cam, Roger, and he had rushed to the deck when they first called out “land.” It had taken twelve days to cross the Atlantic, and each of them was ready to step back on solid ground. Noah was also anxious to get a glimpse of Italy. He had heard it was a beautiful country, with large stretches of olive trees, taverns where music poured out, and museums filled with great works of art. As they approached, Noah could see Mount Vesuvius looming in the distance. He knew that the volcano was still active and that it had once blown and buried the city of Pompeii. Now it just looked peaceful and lovely, rising majestically over Naples.
As they came into the harbor, Wiley let out a loud whistle. The water was littered with sunken ships and the remains of destroyed bridges. Their boat had to navigate its way slowly through the port to avoid colliding with all the debris. Oil floated on the clear blue Mediterranean waters.
“Those Germans!” Roger spat out angrily.
“The Germans didn’t do this,” James Shelley said, coming up beside them. “We did.”
“Whatever for?” Bill asked.
“To get the Nazis out,” Noah’s uncle responded.
Noah stared around at the destruction. Was the fighting worth all this?
Noah and the boys followed his uncle and Skeeter off the ship when they reached the dock. Noah looked about him with wide-eyed wonder. The streets of Naples were the narrowest he had ever seen. They wound their way up from the harbor, light barely filtering its way between the four-story stone buildings. All around him, old men sat on benches talking to one another while old women leaned their elbows on their windowsills, shutters opened wide, and admonished them in Italian. Two-wheel horse-drawn carts vied with a few cars on the cobblestoned streets. A stone fountain in the middle of one of the squares sent up sprays of water. Girls walked by carrying large bundles of firewood and buckets of water, eyeing the soldiers. Several of the boys whistled at the girls, but Skeeter quickly silenced them with a look.
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