Madge shook her head. “No. I wish I did.”
Kitty opened the box again, shuffled through the letters until she found them. Two little, black-and-white pictures, from the photo machine. She held them, gazed at his handsome face, the grin, the little dimple in his chin.
“Can I see?” Madge asked.
Reluctantly Kitty handed the photos to Madge.
“It’s all I have. These and his letters.”
“One of those photo booths?”
Kitty nodded. “In a theater.”
Madge stared into the distance, her eyes glistening with tears as she gave them back.
Kitty placed them in the box. She closed it and sighed. She couldn’t cry any more, but the pain wouldn’t stop. She wondered if it would ever stop.
Dejected, she climbed into bed. She wouldn’t sleep. All she could think about was Ted. Every moment with him. Every precious moment. She’d think of him every minute for the rest of her life.
****
Madge returned to London the next day.
Kitty cancelled her plans to visit Milton. She couldn’t face the train trip, hours alone, the cars filled with servicemen, airmen like Ted, who didn’t know, didn’t understand. Instead she worked through the weekend, taking on the continuous paperwork generated by war.
She ignored the remarks about “Lake’s little darling” getting her hands dirty doing the drudge work. The other women resented how General Lake brought her in, and she’d realized early on that they wouldn’t be friends. None of them knew about Ted or even Milton. And she stubbornly refused to let them see her pain.
She forced herself to focus on the endless typing and the stacks of filing. The jangling telephone grated on her nerves. A stray serviceman delivered a packet of deciphered messages, and she almost bit his head off when she saw they were for someone else. He hurried away like a puppy with his tail between his legs. She regretted her outburst but returned to her typing with no offer of explanation to her fellow workers.
Every time her mind strayed to thoughts of Ted, she harshly reprimanded herself and ordered her thoughts back to the activity at hand.
Saturday dragged into Sunday.
Guilt at letting her brother down drove her to steal a few moments to write him. After all, he was alone in a hospital, with no family, no friends. She might not get to see him again before they sent him back to the states. Should she tell him about Ted? After all, they had made friends in London. Milton deserved to know what happened.
She forced herself to write the words. Then she sat there staring at them. On paper they were so cold, so unreal, like something in a newspaper. They didn’t convey her sorrow. The deep empty hole inside her so painful she feared if she dwelt on it she would dissolve into nothingness.
She’d never told Milton about Ted, how she felt about him, what he meant to her, that he was the love of her life, the one person she was meant to be with—forever. She couldn’t explain in a letter. The more she tried the less sense it made.
The tears came again. She fought them back with grim determination. She would not collapse in front of the other women. She would not let them see her pain, her vulnerability. She thought of those first days in basic training, when she feared she would fail and stubbornly refused to let the others see her fear. The sergeant had called them soldiers in their own kind of trenches. She hadn’t understood it then, but now she did. She was in the trenches fighting alongside soldiers who needed her to do her job, not give in to the pain of losing someone dear.
And Milton, he needed to hear something cheerful and upbeat, not more pain and sorrow. She just didn’t have it in her, not now. Guilt weighed heavy on her shoulders, but grief weighed more. She could only carry so much. She wadded the letter into a ball, squeezing it tight. She wouldn’t burden her brother with her loss. He had enough to endure.
General Lake remained out of sorts for the next few days. He attended meeting after meeting. When he spoke to her, he barked and grumbled, completely unaware of her somber mood. For her part, she did all she could to keep him satisfied. She typed up notes, reports, recommendations, focused on accuracy and efficiency, and kept her emotions in check.
The Eighth Air Force had been under Eisenhower’s command since before the invasion. According to General Lake the change in command structure made everything more difficult. Constant consultation with SHAEF (Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force) on every decision took its toll on everyone.
Kitty was aware of disagreements over planning of air support for an important operation in France. General Lake worked himself into a tizzy arguing with several other generals about it. Orders from SHAEF infuriated him. He didn’t think the highest commanders understood air warfare at all, its strengths or its weaknesses. He ranted to Kitty and his support staff on the subject until Kitty began to worry about him.
The day of the operation reports began coming in. At first it appeared successful, then the whispers started. General Lake looked ashen but didn’t say a word. He retreated to his office where he remained until General Doolittle summoned him to a meeting of the Eighth Air Force Headquarters staff.
Several WACs huddled together whispering. Kitty needed to know what had happened. She eased into the group.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
A sergeant eyed her suspiciously before speaking. “We bombed our own troops,” she stated flatly.
“What?” It was unbelievable.
“It’s true,” another WAC added. “Reports are still coming in on casualties.”
Kitty shook her head as she thought of boys like Milton on the ground being bombed.
“What makes it even worse is that supposedly orders were changed. Our flyboys didn’t do what SHAEF wanted. I don’t know who messed up, but heads will roll if they find out someone disobeyed orders.”
“Yeah. And it would have been someone pretty high up.”
“Right. The pilots and crews do what they’re told.”
“I just hope Doolittle doesn’t get blamed.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s for sure.”
Everyone respected General Doolittle, including General Lake. The hero of the Tokyo raid had proved a capable and well-liked commander.
Kitty had no idea what would happen next. Whatever happened she firmly believed that winning the war was the most important objective, and mistakes could not be tolerated. The Allies had been fighting in Normandy for six weeks. More and more men were being killed and wounded. They had to do something to beat the Germans. How many would die? How much would it take before the Germans were driven back into their own country and forced to surrender?
Kitty focused her anger on the enemy—the Germans. They were the cause of all her pain. They’d killed Ted. They’d wounded Milton. They had to be defeated.
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 connect
ion 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, Serg
eant. 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.
Kitty's War Page 28
