by Kris Tualla
In her current circumstances, maybe it did.
Today Tor was mountain climbing so she was on her own. After she completed her WAC required physical regimen, she decided to head over to Headquarters to see if anyone there had more information about it.
*****
Tor had been the perfect picture of a gentleman since the night he made love to Kyle. The thing that was interesting to him was how easy it was.
Once he told her he loved her, he knew it was true. Futile, maybe, but true nonetheless. And she was definitely a woman he could see himself married to.
Tor’s life hadn’t been conducive to forming serious relationships since he reached adulthood. Training and skiing competitively meant he was on the move a lot. A flirtation here, a quick connection there. Fun, sure, but none of it lasting.
Those women were interested in him as an athlete who might be famous one day, and they made themselves available to him in the hopes that they could ride to the top with him. He knew it.
And, frankly, he took advantage of it.
And then that vile bastard Adolf Hitler invaded his neutral and peaceful country and Tor’s life was changed irrevocably.
Now Tor would never ski in any Olympic games. Even if the pompous little asshole was defeated today it was too late to pull together games for nineteen-forty-four. That meant another four years of training if he wanted to qualify again and he was already well past thirty-one.
No, that dream was over.
Until two weeks ago, Tor hadn’t given any thought to what he’d do once the war did end. He thought that if he was lucky enough to survive Italy he’d go home and figure it out then.
In the meantime he’d give serious thought to marrying Kyle.
If she’d have him.
Right now, that was a very large if.
*****
“I have the information here,” the receptionist said as she handed Kyle a printed flyer. “These benefits are available to veterans who’ve been active duty for at least a hundred and twenty days during the war and who haven’t been dishonorably discharged.”
That cuts out Flo, Frances, and Marguerite.
Kyle scanned the paper. “This does apply to us WACs as well, right?”
“I believe so.” The girl shrugged. “Going into actual combat isn’t required.”
Kyle smiled at her. “Thank you.”
Major General Jones came in the front door and stopped when he saw Kyle.
“Lieutenant Solberg, I’ve been meaning to ask you to bring Captain Hansen in for a brief meeting.”
As if he needs me there.
“Of course, sir. When would you like me to bring him?”
“I’ll have my secretary set it up.” Jones pointed at the receptionist. “Private Larson, would you please call Lieutenant Smith and ask him to arrange the appointment? I’ll want a quarter of an hour. But it’s nothing urgent.”
“Yes, sir.”
Kyle saluted Jones and he strode down the hallway. She faced the receptionist and held up the folded paper. “Thanks again.”
She tucked the pamphlet in her back pocket and went out to the jeep. She drove it to the regular spot where Tor met her after their mountain climbing finished and parked under a shady pine. Then she pulled out the flyer and started reading,
As she did, her pulse surged with excitement.
“This is it,” she whispered. “This is my chance.”
She was so engrossed in the information and the sudden explosion of her options that she didn’t notice Tor until he vaulted over the passenger door into the open-topped jeep.
“Easy there,” she grumbled as the little vehicle rocked and groaned. She addressed him in Norsk to keep up the ruse. “How’d it go today?”
“It was a good day.”
Kyle refolded the pamphlet and then looked at Tor. His blazing blue eyes, tanned skin, and wind-tousled hair did make him look like some grinning Nordic god. Her heart lurched a little, knowing he loved her.
“What have you got there?” he asked.
She handed it to him. “You can read it yourself.”
Because you can read it yourself.
Tor read aloud, “The Servicemen’s Readjustment Act of 1944?”
Kyle turned the jeep around and headed toward Tor’s barracks. “From what I read, it gives the soldiers returning from this war some financial help to pick up and continue their lives.”
“Because they were all interrupted,” Tor murmured as he read. “Listen to this: you can get low-cost mortgages, low-interest loans to start a business, cash payments of tuition and living expenses to attend high school—wait.”
He turned to her. “You finished high school.”
“I did. But a lot of guys enlisted the day they turned eighteen. Before they graduated.”
“Understood.” He went back to reading. “Attend high school, college, or vocational or technical school, as well as one year of unemployment compensation.”
“So they can live while they complete some advanced schooling.” Kyle glanced at Tor wondering what his reaction would be. “And this applies to WACs, too.”
He sounded surprised. “So you’ll get all these things?”
“If I want, yes. I just have to apply.”
“What about Viking?”
Kyle drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “After the war ends, I don’t think I’m going to live there anymore.”
*****
This changes everything.
Tor would never want to take Kyle away from these opportunities, but he certainly wanted to get her out of that stupidly-named village.
“Where do you want to go?”
She frowned a little. “Minneapolis, Minnesota I think. It’s a big city so there’ll be lots of school choices there.”
Would I want to live in Minneapolis?
Tor didn’t think so. But maybe Kyle would be willing to stay in Colorado. “What about Denver?”
Kyle looked at him as if he just suggested she become a brain surgeon. “Leave Minnesota?”
He wanted to say I can teach skiing here but caught himself. “There’s skiing here.”
She focused her attention back on the road. “I don’t ski. Not really.”
Tor let it drop. This was their first conversation about the future since what happened and he didn’t want to ruin it.
He folded the flyer. “Well, you have time to decide.”
Her expression was unreadable. “Yes. I do.”
August 15, 1944
Tor needed Kyle with him today because he had to explain how to properly don a gas mask before they entered the gas chamber.
“Tighten here.” He demonstrated while Kyle translated. “This strap can save your life, or take it if it’s not tight enough.”
“I have a question, Captain.”
Kyle said, “Go ahead.”
“What do we do with our goggles?”
She turned to Tor. “He wants to know if your fly is open for a reason.”
Tor glanced down reflexively, even though he knew that was not what the private asked.
“What are you doing?” he asked in Norsk.
She smiled evilly. “It’s my turn now, isn’t it?”
Tor’s jaw clenched. “Tell him to strap his goggles where the gas mask was.”
She did. “Any other questions?”
A private waved his hand. “Will they be using gas in the mountains?”
Kyle asked Tor, “If pigs could fly, would you ride one?”
“Maybe,” he barked.
Kyle translated the terse answer.
“Ma’am?”
Kyle gave the soldier an encouraging smile. Encouraging Tor to strangle her, that was. “Yes?”
“Will there be more than one kind of gas? I mean like, some that can kill you, but some that just make you sick?”
Kyle nodded, her expression seriously grim and faced Tor. “If you only had one arm and one leg, would you prefer to be called Stump or Handy?”
Tor coughed to disguise his laugh. He stood with his mouth covered by his fist for a moment, trying to hold onto a required shred of composure. Then he cleared his throat and gave Kyle an intense look.
“Tell him we don’t know, so we’ll prepare for the worst. And that I am going to kill you later.”
She nodded, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Yes, Captain.”
August 20, 1944
The meeting with Jones had been delayed twice, but was finally happening. Kyle and Tor entered the Major General’s office, saluted, and waited to be invited to sit.
Jones smiled pleasantly at Tor. “Captain Hansen, I wanted to let you know how pleased I am that you came to Camp Hale to train our soldiers.”
Tor didn’t react until Kyle translated. Thankfully she was on her best behavior today and promised no hijinks in the Major General’s presence.
Tor dipped his chin. “Tell him it’s been my honor.”
Jones picked up a paper. “It’s been brought to my attention that ninety-percent of the man in your squads have excelled in their qualifying tests, and that the remaining ten percent have passed after brief extensions of their training.”
“They work very hard sir,” he deferred.
“And I think they have a leader who inspires them.” Jones’s expression dimmed. “It’s unfortunate that you won’t be going to Italy with them.”
Tor froze. Not going to Italy?
Kyle’s eyes widened. She faced him when she translated, adding, “Did you know that?”
Tor was shaken. “No. Ask him why not.”
“It should be obvious to you, Lieutenant,” Jones said bluntly. “You aren’t going into combat, of course, so Captain Hansen won’t be able to talk to his men.”
Tor felt like all of his bones had dissolved. Gnats danced around his vision.
No no no.
This can’t happen.
“He can’t lead men who don’t understand his commands.” Jones waved one hand toward Tor. “I’m sure the captain will agree.”
Tor looked at Kyle. “I have to tell him.”
“No. Don’t. That would really make him angry—and you don’t want that.”
“What choice do I have?”
“I have an idea.” She turned back to Jones. “I’ve been working with Captain Hansen on his English and he’s coming along well. May I suggest a solution?”
Jones frowned a little. “Go on.”
“An English proficiency test. If he passes, then he ships out with his men.”
God bless her.
Tor watched the general carefully, trying without success to judge his reaction.
“Remember, the captain speaks German fluently as well,” Kyle continued. “That would be helpful, wouldn’t it?”
Jones nodded slowly. “I suppose. When will he be ready to take the test?”
“When do you need him to take it?” she countered. “I’ll make sure he’s ready.”
Jones consulted a calendar on his desk. “October thirty-first is the absolute last day.” He looked at Kyle again. “Can he do it?”
“Yes, sir,” she answered confidently. “Maybe even before that.”
Chapter
Thirty Two
Tor wanted to kiss Kyle right there in Jones’s office. Of course he didn’t, but he barely restrained himself once they were in the hall.
“That was brilliant, Kyle,” he effused. “You literally saved my career as a soldier!”
“I was trying to save us both.” She waited while he opened the front door and they walked outside. “He would’ve been so angry at you if you told him the truth that he might have shipped you back to Norway on the spot.”
True.
“And then he would naturally assume that you knew and went along with the deception,” Tor added.
“Exactly.” Kyle stood next to the jeep. “Do you need a ride?”
Tor wanted to be with her, but couldn’t think of an excuse to prolong their time together. “No, but do I want to thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She watched him with a solemn expression. “Is there anything else?”
“Have you forgiven me yet?”
Kyle’s brow plunged and she pointed at the building they’d just left. “Didn’t I just save your stinking Norwegian hide in there?”
“Yes, you did,” he said softly. “But I don’t want to make any incorrect assumptions.”
Kyle chewed her lower lip. “Yeah, I’ve forgiven you. Because it’s too much work not to.”
Tor watched her for a moment. “Then why do you still look so sad?”
Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “Because by doing so, I’ve just guaranteed that you’ll definitely disappear from my life in three months.”
*****
Kyle didn’t mean to cry. She didn’t want to cry. But this tension between her and Tor had stretched her nerves to the breaking point.
“Get in the jeep,” he said as he walked around to the driver’s side. “I’ll drive.”
“You aren’t authorized.”
“I don’t care.”
Kyle wasn’t up for an argument. She walked to the other side of the jeep and claimed the passenger seat.
“Do you know how to drive?”
Tor shot her a look that clearly questioned her intelligence. Then he started the engine and shifted into first gear.
“Where to?”
“Your barracks I guess,” she answered.
Tor drove the jeep without effort—of course he did—and parked in front of his barracks’ door. Kyle expected him to get out, but instead he shut off the engine.
They sat in a silence so thick that she felt its weight on her shoulders.
“There won’t be any new recruits,” Tor said out of nowhere.
Kyle knew that. “Because there isn’t time to train them before the Tenth ships out.”
“As soon as there’s snow we’ll go back up the mountain and practice what they know. Then we’ll be ready to go.” Tor drummed his fingertips on the steering wheel.
Kyle found the repetitive movement mesmerizing. “What are we going to do?”
“What are we going to do?” he asked. “Or what do I want to do?”
Good question. “Want, I guess.”
Tor didn’t hesitate. “I want to marry you.”
Kyle scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
He turned to look at her. “You asked what I wanted, and that’s what I want.”
“Why? Because you took my virginity?” Kyle suddenly realized they were in an open jeep in front of a large barracks and her words could be overheard.
Tor looked at the few men and women walking by. “Don’t worry. No one understands Norsk.”
Kyle’s face heated. “That’s not a good reason, Tor.”
“I agree. But that isn’t the reason.”
“Then what is?”
His expression was almost pained. “Because I love you. And because you are the first woman I’ve ever met that I wanted to marry.”
“Oh, Tor.” Fresh tears threatened. “It’s impossible.”
“I know. And it’s completely selfish of me.” He drummed the steering wheel again.
Kyle wondered if she would agree to marry Tor if he weren’t headed to battles abroad in a few months. Or if he lived in America. Or if the war ended.
There are so many obstacles.
She wanted to tell him she loved him too, but the words wouldn’t come out of her mouth.
“I guess in the meantime we’ll work on your English.”
He was clearly disappointed with her response, but she couldn’t give him more at that moment. “And I’ll take the test in eight weeks. A week earlier than Jones said. That should ease his mind.”
Tor got out of the jeep and Kyle slid over to the driver’s seat.
“I’ll see you at supper,” she called to his back.
He waved over one shoulder but didn’t turn around.
August 21, 19
44
The next day Kyle accompanied Tor to his training, but this time with a different purpose. At dinner last night Kyle pointed out that if Tor told his platoon that he needed to pass an English test in order to accompany them to Italy, that the men would help him become more fluent.
Or so it would appear.
And Tor’s apparently easy grasp of the language would become more believable if he was forced to speak it all day every day around his three dozen tutors.
Tor thought it was brilliant.
Now he stood with Frank Collins in front of their platoon while Kyle took her place by his side.
“Say as much as you think you can in English,” she told Tor. “And I’ll step in when I need to.”
Tor nodded and gestured to Frank that he needed a minute, then stepped forward to address the soldiers. “Good morning. I have something to tell you.
Surprised glances shifted from man to man as Tor addressed them in English.
“I am told—” Keep the grammar simple. “—that I must pass English test or I do not go to Italy.”
More glances bounced through the men, these heavy with concern.
Tor turned halfway around and extended a hand toward Kyle. “Now Lieutenant Solberg teaches me English.”
Kyle smiled and nodded.
Tor faced the men again. “I need help from you. Yes?”
Every man nodded.
Several men shouted, “Yes, Captain.”
“Good. Thank you.” Tor turned to Frank. “Now you.”
Tor stepped back and stood next to Kyle. He watched the men as First Lieutenant Frank Collins gave the instructions for their bayonet practice. When the soldiers were released to ready their equipment, they swarmed Tor first.
“Don’t worry, Captain. We’ll make sure you pass that test.”
“We aren’t going to Italy without you, that’s a promise.”
“You can do it, sir.”
“We believe in you.”
Tor nodded and shook the men’s hands. “Thank you. Thank you.”
When the hubbub died and the soldiers got ready for the training, Tor finally looked at Kyle. Her eyes were misty.
