by Alexa Kang
Leon too is very upset. It breaks his heart to know that yet another family member has gone to war. As soon as he heard what happened, he called every politician, government official and military person he knew, trying to move heaven and earth to find out where you are. No one could help him. He was told that the locations of army personnel are classified. He is very sad and concerned.
You must write to us the minute you arrive. You must let us know that you are all right. If you don't, I will not forgive you. Please write to your parents too. I can't imagine how worried they must be.
Do you have enough money? Do you need us to send you anything? Whatever you need, whatever we can do for you, let us know. I am waiting anxiously to hear from you.
— Love and prayers, Sophia
October 27, 1943
Dear Tessa,
When Ruby delivered your letter to us, I telegraphed your parents right away. Your departure was a big shock to us all. I am of course extremely worried, as is Sophie.
I have always believed in giving children a wide latitude of freedom and allowing them the privacy and independence to make their own choices in life. But this time, I blame myself. I should have discovered what you had been doing at the hospital much, much sooner. You may not have liked my interference, but yes, I would have tried to stop you. As your guardian, your safety is my first priority. In that respect, I have failed. I truly regret that. Your parents will have every right to blame me if anything should happen to you.
There is no turning back. I can only hope that Sophie and I have done enough in the last few years to give you the right kind of guidance, and the confidence and wisdom you will need to face what is ahead. Your life will not be easy from now on, but I believe in you. I have faith that you will overcome all the difficulties you will now face. What you did took months of planning and a lot of effort, so I know you did not make a hasty decision. I trust that you have thought this through long and hard, and this is what you really want. As what is done cannot be undone, the next best thing I can do is to be firmly behind you. Please know that you have my full support.
And what can I say as a father, that you hold so much love for my son? You love him so much that you would risk your own life for him. As Anthony's father, I can only thank you. He is very fortunate to have you in his life and all your love. It is my most sincere wish that you two will have a very long and bright future together ahead. I hope you and Anthony will find each other, and both of you make it out of this war safe and sound, and we will all be reunited as a family once again.
After discussing this with your Aunt Sophia, we decided not to tell Anthony about this for now. We will let you find your way to him. If you are meant to reunite with him, then you will. Otherwise, there is no use in alarming him. I hope that you will agree with our decision. My guess is that if you had wanted him to know, you would have written to him about it yourself.
Don't worry about your mother, your father, your Aunt Sophia, and Uncle Leon. It is unavoidable for everyone to be shocked and upset. I am sure your parents will be angry. Don't worry if your parents blame me and Sophie. Everyone will eventually find a way to accept your decision. What concerns me most now is not them, but you. You have a very tough road ahead. Do not take on extra burden by feeling guilty and worrying about us. Let me worry about everyone else. Just take good care of yourself.
I hope this letter reaches you soon. You and Anthony are always in my thoughts.
— My best wishes and always, William
Western Union
Telegram to Mr. and Mrs. Dean Graham
October 28, 1943
Spoke to Chicago Veterans Hospital Superintendent. Am sending you letter today with further information regarding Tessa. Our children are in precarious situations. They will face many hardships and carry much burden. They need our love and support. Please do not be harsh on her. My fault and oversight. I take full responsibility for what happened. — William
November 12, 1943
Dear Tessa,
Your letter (the one that you entrusted Ruby to send to us) finally arrived. For more than two weeks, your father and I have been worried sick, not knowing where you are and whether you are all right. We still have so many questions and we are still waiting to hear from you. I hope you have arrived safely, wherever you were headed. But at least now I know the reasons for your decision.
I am filled with so many mixed emotions after reading your letter. As your mother, I want to shout as loudly as I can at the top of my voice to tell you that you should wait for Anthony to come back. There is no need to put yourself at risk too. I cannot help but want to ask you, are you sure that Anthony is the one for you? So sure that you would make this drastic decision to follow him to war? Are you sure that there might not be someone else out there for you? Yes, I want to ask these questions even if the person you claim to love is William's son. I cannot do anything about Anthony being drafted, but I want so very much to find a reason to convince you to not put yourself in danger.
But if you truly love him as much as you said, then I also know that if I were in your place, I would've done the exact same thing. I would chase and follow your father to the end of this earth. I think of the time when I left Chicago with your father. I felt no fear then either, only sadness at leaving behind the people I loved.
After my initial shock, anger, and fear, I am slowly coming to terms with your decision. I will be praying constantly for your and Anthony's safe return. We are all here for you. You have all of our love. Whatever we can do for you, let me know. Write to us as often as you can. Please promise me that.
Despite everything, I am very proud of you. I know you will do your best to help all the soldiers injured in the war.
Your father is beyond distraught. He is having a hard time coping with what happened. He is also not very happy with anyone named Anthony right now, but I'm sure that he will come around soon.
— Missing you dearly and love you very much, Mother
November 4, 1943
Dear Tessa,
I hope everything is well. Why haven't I heard from you in weeks? Yesterday I got my mail. I received four letters from my parents, two from Uncle Leon and one each from Katherine and Alexander, but nothing from you. Is everything alright? Are you ill? Please don't tell me you've met another guy and have forgotten about me. (Just kidding — but actually, it happens. A sergeant I know named Ollie got a Dear John letter from his girlfriend back home recently. Ok, come to think of it, maybe it's better I don't hear from you if you are going to send me a Dear John letter…)
The British troops relieved us from the front this week, thankfully. We will have several days of rest back at the army headquarters in the city. I'm glad to get a break from K rations too. I plan to hit some restaurants and eateries while I'm in the city. The last few days before we came back, all my fellow officers and I could talk about was steak. Which cuts we like best. How we like it cooked. I never thought it was possible to have such an extended and in-depth discussion about a piece of steak. It was terrible though because the more we talked, the hungrier we got, and there was not much we could do to satiate our craving. Every few hours we would all agree for our own sanity to stop talking about steak, only for the topic to come back, over and over again!
Speaking of restaurants, where I'm at, the locals' lives are slowly returning to normal and it is such a good thing to see. Restaurants have reopened and are making good money serving the GIs. The downside is that food distribution for the locals is still in short supply. There seems to be an unevenness in how basic necessities and food are being distributed. I think it will take some time before everything is back in full operation again. One thing I'm thankful for is that my old college friend Warren Hendricks is with me. Back at school, I was the one who encouraged him and pushed him along. Now, he's the one giving me advice and looking out for me. He has really come out of his shell since he joined the army and is an excellent officer. He has a very keen mind in assessing data.
His analysis of military intelligence is always spot on. When we have time off, we spend a lot of time together.
I made a new friend from New York City with whom I get along quite well. His name is Jesse Garland. He's not like anyone I've ever met but maybe that's what makes him so interesting. We have similar interests in books, art, and music. He's the only one here I can have a good conversation with about these things. Being in the army can be very boring. A lot of times we sit around waiting for the next mission, or waiting to go to the enemy, or waiting for the enemy to come to us. We would get all geared up and hustle somewhere only to wait for hours. Jesse and I have had some great conversations talking about the books we've read, lives of authors and artists, and things of that sort during our many hours of waiting around. A traveling opera troupe is performing "Pagliacci" at the city theater tonight. Jesse and I plan to go see it.
Take care now. Write me soon! I miss you.
— Love, Anthony
VIII
Part Eight - Naples
27
"Holy cow! Look at that motherfucking mountain!" Jonesy cried out as their company's convoy rode into Naples. The Allied forces had reached the Volturno River north of Naples on October 6th. With Naples now secured, the British and American troops were moving in.
"That's not a mountain, you moron. That's Mt. Vesuvius. It's a volcano," Ollie replied.
"It's a mountain. If it's not a mountain then why would they call it Mount Vesuvius?"
"It's a volcano!"
Behind them, the jeep Anthony and Warren were riding in suddenly came to a halt. The sergeant who was driving the vehicle turned off the ignition, then turned it on and off again several times.
"What's the matter?" Warren asked.
"Don't know, sir. The car wasn't driving right so I stopped it but now the engine won't start."
"Are we out of gas?" Anthony asked.
"No. We still got a quarter tank. I'll take a look." He got out of the car to check on the engine while the rest of the troops and convoy drove on past them.
Jim Darnell stopped and came over. "Need some help? I'm pretty good with cars."
Warren motioned him to the engine. The driver moved aside and Darnell took a look. He said something to the driver, shook his head, and came back to Anthony and Warren. "The engine's dead. You'll have to catch another ride."
But the convoy had already moved on. It was too late to hitch a ride.
"We're not that far from the checkpoint. Shall we walk?" Warren got out of the vehicle. Anthony picked up his pack and followed.
As they walked, a large group of small children dressed in rags surrounded them. Their heads were too big for their bodies and their eyes too large for their faces. None of them smiled. Further behind them, a group of adults, all too thin with sunken cheeks, stood and watched. The group grew bigger and bigger. All were looking at them but too scared to come forward.
"What's going on?" Anthony asked. "What's wrong with them?"
"Starvation," Warren said. "These people haven't had much to eat in a very long time. It's part of the Krauts' scorched-earth tactics. Cut off the city's food supplies. Demolish the roads, the bridges, and everything else to slow us down now that we're here."
Merciless tactics, Anthony thought. Twice on their way here, they had been halted because the Germans had blown up the roads or the bridges. Their battalion engineers had to rebuild new crossings for them to go forward. Heaps of bricks and piles of rubble in the middle of the road kept blocking their way. The Germans had put them there. Even in their defeat, the Germans had to destroy everything to the ground. The resulting damage to Naples was devastating.
"Here, take these." Darnell took several cans of SPAM out of his pack and gave them to the hungry children. "Take this home," he gave a can of corned beef to a little boy, who grabbed it and ran off while holding the can tight to his chest to keep the other kids from taking it away from him. Darnell gave out the rest of his canned food and crackers until he had no more left. Anthony, Warren, and their driver followed suit, passing out canned meat, crackers, chocolates, even leftover K rations and whatever else they could dig up. But after giving away everything they had, there was still not enough.
"Come on, let's go," Warren said.
They walked away from the starving children. The children stood behind like living ghosts and watched them leave.
"I don't know what I'd do if my kids were hungry like that," Darnell said.
Anthony thought of the time when Darnell had shown him the picture of his four children and how happy Darnell was when he talked about the neighborhood kids coming to his ice cream parlor. It must be difficult for Darnell to see children suffer.
"Those kids back there should be going to ice cream shops and candy stores after school. Not begging for food. Not like this." Darnell mumbled to himself.
Anthony threw him a glance. Once again, Anthony thought, this man didn't belong here.
More crowds entered the streets on the outskirts of Naples. Large crowds. Small crowds. All staring at them with their sunken eyes and hollow cheeks, but they had no more food left to give them.
"The Allied humanitarian aid will come," Warren said, although neither he nor Anthony were comforted by knowing this as these hungry people stared at them.
They arrived at their checkpoint where the rest of their company were already unloading and settling into their temporary quarters. Jonesy, looking fresh and clean, saw them and excitedly came down the street, waving and hollering, "Look, Lieutenant, Captain. I'm a new man. Hot shower, fresh clean laundry. Sweet! They got our mobile shower set up back there…" Before he could finish, a bucket of dirty water splashed all over his pants. A woman with her hair tied up and covered with an old, faded pink scarf had dumped another bucket of used dirty water onto the street.
"What the fuck!" Jonesy screamed. "I just showered! Aw, shit! This water stinks! Hey, bitch! What the fuck was that?"
Behind him, Ollie bent over laughing. The woman merely glanced at him. Her face looked tired and weary. Without an apology, she went back inside her house.
"The Krauts blew up all the plumbing and the water pipes before they retreated," Warren said. "These people have no other way to get rid of their used water."
Ollie, still laughing, tried to contain himself to give Anthony a message. "The captain said to tell you to meet him at the common room over at that building in three hours."
They parted ways with Darnell and the driver and went to the officers' quarters. After a quick lunch, Anthony went to clean himself up. In the shower, he closed his eyes and let the water cascade down from the top of his head down the rest of his body. It occurred to him that he hadn't gone swimming in a very long time. He could really go for a good swim.
How did they all end up in this living hell? He wished the shower water could wash away all the misery around him.
Three hours later at the command post, Captain Harding told him they had a new mission.
"We're only staying here for two nights. The Krauts have left Naples but they're holding on up north just outside the city. They're still running air raids and dropping bombs everywhere." Harding pointed out a range of area on a map. "Here are the latest reports on the locations of their communications outposts, airfields, and ammunitions dumps. We'll clear all of these areas north of the city."
Anthony studied the information given to him.
"I want you to organize the platoons and take out the outpost in the village right here." Harding circled a spot on the map. "Think you're up for the job?"
"Sure. Of course, sir." He wondered if Harding was offering him up as a sacrificial lamb again, or if Harding really thought he could lead the attack.
Afterward, he wandered into the bar near his quarters. He needed time to think.
The bartender gave him a beer. Deep in thought, he held it without drinking it.
Harding wanted him to lead a mission. He was a lieutenant. Leading a mission was part of his duties.
Nothing showed the captain to be anything but a leader giving a junior officer a chance to shine.
Do you know why Harding sent you to lead the platoon to initiate the attack?
Wesley's warning came back to him.
Better to send the least valuable ones out to take the first hits…The replacements…they make good human shields.
Was Harding leaving him out to sink or swim on his own to protect those whom he deemed more important?
Could Wesley be wrong?
But Wesley saved him. He might not even be alive right now if it weren't for Wesley.
He's a helluva first lieutenant.
Warren had nothing but high praise for Wesley. If nothing else, he could trust Warren.
"Two shots of scotch, please," someone said to the server, breaking his train of thought.
Anthony looked up. It was Jesse Garland, the medic.
"I saw you walk in." Jesse sat down next to him. "I fleeced those suckers over there." He looked over at a table of officers playing cards. "Want to help me get rid of this chump change tonight?" He took a stash of bills and coins out of his pocket and put them on the bar. "We can go see that traveling stand-up comedian perform, hit a few bars afterward? Make it a night on the town."
Anthony wasn't up for it. He had too much on his mind. "Maybe another time. I got some things to sort out."
"What kind of things?"
Anthony gripped his beer. "I don't know if I'm doing my job right."
Jesse looked amused.
"What's so funny?" Anthony asked.
"You're over-thinking things." Jesse took the shots the bartender placed on the bar and put one in front of Anthony. "There's no right way to do what we're here to do. Only one thing matters."
