Her expression changed to one of understanding. “How long have you been here?”
“I was shot down last summer, July.”
“You know, a lot has happened since then. The Army and the Air Force have moved onto the continent. France, Belgium. She may not be in England now.”
The information hit him like a blow to the gut. It hadn’t occurred to him that Kitty might not be in England, at Ellingham, where she’d been when he left. He closed his eyes imagining Kitty in the Castle.
“She was in England when I left.” He slowly opened his eyes. “She may think I’m dead.” He coughed, his hand covering his mouth. “I wrote her.” He looked into the woman’s face, desperately needing someone to understand. “I don’t know if she got my letters. I never got any back.”
The nurse patted his hand. She didn’t say anything, sensing that he needed to talk.
“The damn Germans moved us to this place so even if she did write…” Ted fought back tears. “I…I have to see her.”
“You will, soldier. You will.”
****
May 9, 1945
Dear Milton,
You should have seen the big celebration in Paris. It was unbelievable. So many people in the streets, so much wine and laughter. After five years of war, the French really celebrated. And of course all the Allies joined in. You would have loved it.
Glad to hear you’re making progress in the rehab program. You can take me out dancing when I get home. Don’t know when that will be. Rumor is that us WACs are low priority. The fighting men will go home first. But that’s okay. They did the hard part.
I guess I can tell you what I’m working on now that the war is over and no more censorship. I’m working with the various countries accounting for displaced persons. It’s unbelievable how many people Hitler took out of France and the low countries to use for slave labor and how many he put in prison. As the Allied armies moved into Germany, these people were freed. People are trying to find their loved ones. It’s heartbreaking. Sometimes they learn from a released prisoner that their family member died. Even that sad news is better than never knowing.
I can relate to these people because of Ted. I’ve never been able to verify his location after the camp at Sagan was moved. I pray every day he is still alive. You are the only one who knows about Ted, except for Madge. So you understand. I don’t mind staying here for a while if it means I find him.
Write me soon.
Your sister,
Katherine
****
After a truck ride to a nearby air field, Ted and a group of ex-POWs met the crew of the B-17 that would carry them to a processing center near Le Havre, France. Before climbing aboard, Ted asked if any of them knew a WAC named Kitty Greenlee.
“Nope. Never heard of her,” the co-pilot replied.
Others shook their heads.
“She was stationed at Ellingham. Worked for General Lake.”
“Sorry, Buddy. I never even heard of a General Lake.”
The navigator spoke up. “How long have you been a POW?”
“Almost ten months,” Ted replied. It felt longer. A lifetime almost.
“We’ve only been in ETO since last December,” the pilot told him. “We’ve been flying missions out of England, but a lot of bombers and fighters were moved to fields in France and Belgium.”
Ted’s heart sank. How would he find her? Then he had an idea. “What about Madge Sorensen? She’s a WAC, too. Blonde, built, looks like Betty Grable.”
“Nope, but I’d sure like to meet her.”
The others shook their heads.
Discouraged, Ted climbed aboard the bomber. Instinctively he moved toward the navigator’s seat.
“You boys’ll have to sit on the floor in the waist,” the navigator said.
“Sure. It’s just that I’m a navigator, and I’m used to sitting up front.”
“Well, in that case, come on.” He motioned for Ted to follow him into the nose. “We’re flying with just a five-man crew. You can sit up there in the bombardier’s seat.”
Ted grinned. “Not dropping any bombs this run, huh?”
“Right.”
Not only were there no bombs, there was no need for oxygen. They flew across Europe at about five thousand feet, so Ted got a view of the countryside below.
Ted thought that this might be the last time he would fly in a B-17. At least this time he wasn’t being shot at, and he could enjoy it. He fought to suppress the painful memories of his last fight and the men who would never go home.
He could see the English Channel not far ahead when the pilot began his approach to an air field near the coast. The big plane came in for a smooth landing and taxied to a hard stand where the pilot welcomed them to Camp Lucky Strike.
By then Ted was determined to ask everyone he met about Kitty and Madge. Surely someone knew one or both of them.
Instead of boarding the waiting truck, Ted approached the ground crew. He then walked the short distance to the next hard stand and asked the crew who’d landed minutes after them.
The truck carrying the other POWs drove by. Ted decided that they couldn’t do anything worse to him than he’d already been through. Finding Kitty was more important than following orders.
After questioning the second crew, Ted hitched a ride back to the officers’ quarters.
He approached a group of airmen. “Does anybody here know a WAC named Madge Sorensen? She’s a real looker. Blonde, great figure, friendly, looks like a pin-up girl.”
He looked around as men shook their heads. “She was assigned to the Eighth Air Force in England. Has a friend named Kitty Greenlee.”
Still nothing.
Ted sighed. He racked his brain for ideas.
A guy approached from the back of the group. “I met a Madge a few months back. Pretty blonde. Might be her.”
“Where?”
“I flew in to a base in Belgium. It was back in the winter. I got snowed in. Had to stay until it cleared. There was a pretty blonde WAC in the Officers’ Club. I think her name was Madge.”
“You said Belgium.” Ted was excited. Maybe if he found Madge she could tell him where Kitty was. Maybe she was in Belgium, too. “Can you write that down for me?”
“Sure.” The man found a piece of paper and pencil and wrote down the name of the base.
Ted thanked the men. He left the Officers’ Club and continued to ask everyone he met about Madge and Kitty. He was taking no chances. Maybe the Belgium lead was good, or maybe it wasn’t. He’d keep asking until he found them.
Before nightfall he made his way to the tents where the POWs were being processed. As he suspected, other than chewing him out for wandering off, they did nothing but assign him to a bed for the night.
The next few days were spent being processed, examined, de-loused, outfitted with new uniforms and boots, and fed. All the ex-prisoners delighted in the hot showers. They lingered under the warm spray and lathered up with more than generous amounts of soap. Meals provided another joy. In the past Ted had barely tolerated Army food. Now it tasted delicious. The staff warned them not to eat too much. Their digestive systems weren’t used to this type of food and might rebel. Sure enough, most of them suffered from upset stomachs and had to revert to soup for several days.
During processing the ex-POWs were told that they had priority for shipment to the states. They would get their orders as soon as transports arrived at Le Havre.
Desperate, Ted located a telephone and had the operator place a call to Madge Sorensen at the base in Belgium. Within minutes, the operator told Ted to wait while the WAC could be located and brought to the phone. A thrill ran through him. Madge would know how to find Kitty. They might have been fighting when he left, but they wouldn’t have lost touch, At least he hoped so.
****
“Hello.”
“Madge, it’s Ted. Ted Kruger.”
Silence from the other end of the line.
“Madge, are y
ou there? Can you hear me?”
“Ted,” the voice sputtered. “Ted, is it really you?”
“Yes. I’m at Camp Lucky Strike, near Le Havre.”
“Then you’re safe?”
“Yes, thanks to the Germans. I’ve been in a POW camp.”
“I can’t believe it. Can’t believe it.”
“Madge, where is Kitty? Is she there in Belgium with you?”
There was a short pause. “No. Kitty’s in Paris.”
“Paris.” He blinked back tears. He’d found her. “Where?”
“She’s working for SHAEF. With displaced persons. Hang on. I just got a letter from her.”
Ted heard her rustling papers. Then she read off an address in Paris. Ted grabbed a pencil from the operator and jotted it down.
“That’s where she lives, not where she works.”
“How come she’s working for SHAEF?”
“Oh, it’s a long story. I’ll let her tell you.”
“Oh, thank you for this, Madge. You don’t know what this means to me.”
“I think I do. I saw the letters you wrote her.”
“She got them?”
“Yes. Two cards and a letter from a prison camp. Before that she thought you were dead. We both did.”
“Did she write me? I never got any letters from her.”
“She wrote. Lots of them. She loves you, you know.”
“Oh, Madge. I’ve got to find her. They’re going to send me back to the states, but I have to find her first.”
“Tell the chaplain. See if he’ll help you get a pass.”
“I will. And thanks again, Madge. You’re swell.”
“Just look me up when we all get back home. I’ve got Kitty’s folks address. I’ll let them know where I am. Looks like it will be a while before us girls get to go home.”
“Bye, Madge. And thanks.”
Ted hung up. Now all he had to do was get a pass to Paris and Kitty would be in his arms. His throat tightened. He could feel the cough coming on. He didn’t even try to stop it. Just let it hide his tears.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
He leaned against the stone building, lit a cigarette, and waited. He’d gotten good at waiting. Only this time he knew he didn’t have to wait long. Kitty would come home soon enough. He’d hold her in his arms, kiss her, and tell her how much he loved her.
How many times had he imagined the scene? Hundreds? Thousands?
This time it would be real. Or would it? What if she didn’t feel the same? What if she’d found someone else? Forgotten him?
No. Don’t think that. Madge said she loved him.
So he’d wait. Wait to see her for himself. See how she reacted. See if she’d agree to his plan. They’d get married. Right here in Paris. The chaplain said it might be possible.
He watched the busy street. This whole part of the city was filled with military. American, British, French, Canadian. He even saw a New Zealander. But he was watching for an American WAC.
Since he didn’t know where she worked, he carefully scanned every woman coming from any direction.
He remembered how hard Kitty worked when they were in Ellingham. She’d stay late to finish something. But not today. Don’t work late today.
He wondered if General Lake had been transferred to SHAEF. Was that why Kitty was working for them instead of the Air Force? He hoped not. He didn’t trust General Lake. The man had been way too friendly toward Kitty. The officer’s reputation had started to influence people’s opinion of Kitty. Yet she had appeared oblivious to the rumors and innuendos. Maybe something had happened, and she’d transferred. He hoped she hadn’t been hurt.
So much time had passed. What had she done all these months?
Two WACs approached. He quickly realized that neither was Kitty—just by the way they walked, before he saw their faces.
When they turned to enter the building, he stepped out of the shadows and spoke to them.
“Excuse me, Ladies. Do you know Kitty Greenlee?”
They looked him over, curious about his sudden appearance.
“Who wants to know?” one asked.
Ted stepped closer. “Second Lieutenant Ted Kruger. I’m a friend of hers.”
“Haven’t seen you around. Where’d you get that uniform?”
He glanced down, suddenly aware of his unusual appearance. “Oh, this.” He flashed them one of his best smiles. “They gave us these uniforms at Camp Lucky Strike. It’s all they had.”
“You look like a buck private with lieutenant’s bars pinned to your collar.” The WAC may have been kidding, but he got her point.
“Like I said, it’s all they had. You see, I’ve been in a prison camp and…well, our uniforms got kind of messed up.”
“Prison camp?”
“Yeah. In Germany.”
Realization swept across their faces quickly followed by a look of horror.
Did he look that bad?
“Oh, you poor dear,” one cooed.
“And you said you were looking for Kitty?” the other asked.
He nodded and smiled again, hoping they would tell him something.
“She lives upstairs. Fourth floor, I think.” She reached out and took his hand. The other girl gently grasped his other arm, as if she thought he would collapse.
“When do you think she’ll get here?” he asked.
“Come inside. You can wait in the little vestibule.”
“I’d rather wait out here,” he protested. “How long do you think it will be?”
“I don’t know. She might not come home right after work. She might stop somewhere and get something to eat.”
“But how will I find her?” Panic clutched at his stomach. He tried to control it. He could wait, as long as it took.
“I tell you what. We can go check the canteen. That’s probably where she’d eat.”
“That would be nice of you,” he told them. “I’ll wait right here.”
The two women hurried off in the direction they’d just come from. One turned and waved before they crossed the street and disappeared.
Ted sighed. He fished another cigarette out of his pocket and lit it before slipping back into the lengthening shadows.
Again he leaned against the building. At least he knew this was the right address, that she’d come eventually.
He took a deep drag on the cigarette and scanned from one direction to the other, careful to examine every pedestrian on the street.
A woman emerged from the others. She was alone. With each step she became clearer. Dark green WAC uniform. That silly hat perched on her head. She took long, confident strides as she came closer and closer. Until finally he knew.
It was her. It was Kitty.
****
Kitty headed to her room, too exhausted to eat. Maybe later. Right now she just wanted to lie down and rest.
She’d dealt with so many people in the last few days. Since the surrender, everyone thought their loved one would instantly appear. But it didn’t work that way. They hadn’t gotten any names from the newly liberated camps. They were still processing the ones who’d been freed in early March. Yet she could understand their frustration, their anxiety. She wanted word, too. She’d tried to get away, get over to the office that handled prisoners of war. But she’d been so busy.
Maybe tomorrow.
She crossed the street. Her block. Just a little ways yet.
She noticed a soldier emerging from the deepening, afternoon shadows. He stood in front of her building for a minute then started walking toward her. There was something vaguely familiar about him. He was thin, but his height, the way he moved…
He came closer.
She froze, unable to move.
It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be him. She must be imagining…
“Kitty.”
“Oh, Ted!” She launched herself into his arms. “Ted! Ted! Ted!”
She couldn’t stop saying his name as she wrapped herself around him, holding hi
m as tight as she could.
He was real. She could feel him. His arms were around her.
She pulled away just enough to look up into his face, the most handsome face in the world. “How?”
He grinned down at her, eyes glistening. “Kitty,” he whispered. “My Kitty.”
His face was thin, gaunt, with dark shadows circling his eyes. The body she held so tightly was thin. She could feel his ribs beneath the shirt that hung loosely from his shoulders.
“How did you get here? How did you find me?” She had so many questions.
“Train, plane, taxi.” He leaned down and brushed his lips across her cheek. “I got hold of Madge. She told me where you were.”
The longing in his eyes told her he wanted to kiss her, wanted her to kiss him. Why was she waiting? She shook off the questions, the doubts, and stretched up on her tip-toes so she could reach him. He understood instantly. His lips met hers. Nothing else mattered but the taste of him, the feel of him. He pulled her closer and deepened the kiss.
She floated on a cloud of joy.
He’s home, safe, in my arms.
When he finally released her he was grinning, laughing. She laughed, too. Free from all the worry, all the anxiety.
They rocked back and forth in each other’s arms. People stood nearby watching. But she didn’t care. They understood. They’d all been through this war. No one was untouched.
“Looks like he found her,” a familiar voice nearby commented.
“You two better get off the street. You’re drawing a crowd.”
Kitty looked around and saw two familiar faces. WACs who lived in her building. They had names, but her brain couldn’t come up with them.
“Hi, girls.” Ted greeted them. “I found her.”
She looked up into his smiling face. He was looking at the other women, but he still held her tightly, as if he thought she might slip away.
With the women on either side, they pushed through the crowd toward their building.
As they reached the door, Ted pointed to something by the wall. “My bag.”
“Oh, I’ll get it.” One of the girls darted to the side and grabbed the small ditty bag, then followed them inside.
“Men aren’t supposed to go upstairs,” one girl commented.
Kitty's War Page 34
