AWOL in North Africa
Page 12
“It’s the gift to be simple, it’s the gift to be free, it’s a gift to come down where we ought to be.”
I doubted the Quakers had ever heard anything like it at any Friends meetings, but the open mic competition crowd seemed to like it okay.
We came in third.
Julie, who is one of the most serious people I know, had been working on being not quite so serious, and when we got back down to the basement she told us a joke.
“I bet you guys don’t know why ghosts make bad liars.”
Greg and I looked at each other and shrugged.
Julie got this big grin on her face. “Because you can see right through them!”
We groaned, of course. Somebody else made a noise, too.
We whirled around to see a man — or more like a teenager — in a dirty blue Union army uniform, his tattered hat cocked to one side like it had been knocked over there and never straightened.
“Where is my little brother?” he demanded.
We were so caught off guard that nobody could speak right away, not even Julie.
The ghost was standing over the old trunk, as if looking for something. The lid was open and there was a strange golden light inside. He took a step toward us — a menacing step, or that’s how it seemed — and said it, or demanded it, again.
“Where is my little brother?”
We were all still scared speechless, trying to think of something, anything, to say back.
The ghost stood firm and waited, hands on the hips of his dirty pants, which seemed a couple of sizes too big. The uniform coat seemed too big, too. For some reason there was a sprig of wilted green leaves tucked into the collar. The ghost was short and it was obvious that he didn’t shave or didn’t need to — that’s how young he was. But he still looked like he wanted to fight somebody. I wanted to assure him that we weren’t part of the Confederate army. I mean, I was from the South, sure, but I wasn’t a Rebel or anything. I didn’t even like the Rebels, or what they stood for and what they fought for.
But it didn’t seem like the time or place to tell the Union soldier — or ghost — all that.
Julie finally found her voice. “We don’t know where your little brother is,” she said calmly — way calmer than Greg or I could have been, or were likely to be for another hour. “And we don’t know who he is. But maybe we can help you figure it out.”
“Help me?” the ghost said, his voice so high that I thought he could almost pass for a girl.
“Yes, help you,” Julie said. “We’ve helped some other ghosts. They had things in that trunk.” She pointed and the ghost turned to look at the trunk, which was still open, and still giving off that golden light.
Julie continued, “Is there something of yours in there?”
The ghost continued staring for a minute, and then nodded. “I lost it in the battle, but there it is.” He thought for a minute, then added, “I can’t pick it up.”
“Can you tell us what it is?” Julie asked.
“They told us to fix bayonets,” the ghost said. “That’s all I remember.”
I knew all about bayonets, which are like long knives, or more like the end of a spear, and you attach it to the end of your gun so you can use it as a weapon for close fighting. “Fix bayonets” is the order they give when soldiers are supposed to get out their bayonets and put them on their rifles.
“Is there a bayonet in the trunk?” Julie asked. “Is that what you’re missing?”
“It wouldn’t have mattered if I’d had it,” the ghost said, not answering Julie’s question. “Nobody got close enough. Nobody at all.”
And with that the ghost vanished, the golden light blinked out, the trunk lid slammed shut on its own.
The war in North Africa was a huge part of World War II, and the beginning of the United States’ involvement in the fight to take back Europe from the Germans, although it’s not as widely studied in schools or the focus of as many books and movies as other areas of the war. However, it’s still incredibly important in the bigger picture of World War II, and the efforts of the men and women who served — and sacrificed — in North Africa should be recognized.
The war in North Africa between the Allies and the Axis powers began on June 10, 1940, though the United States didn’t send troops into battle there until November 1941. Many of the Allied countries had colonies in North Africa, so in addition to being a route to get troops to Italy, they were also looking to protect their colonies. The fighting took place primarily in the northern part of Africa, although AWOL in North Africa revolves mainly around events in Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia. The North Africa campaign ended with an Allied victory over the Germans and Italians on May 13, 1943.
As with other Ghosts of War books, much of this story is fiction, including the present-day characters, the mystery, and the ghost. However, the historical figures and major events in the book are all based on fact. There are many excellent books about the war in Northern Africa and the Tunisian campaign, and about those who fought there: George Patton, Dwight D. Eisenhower, Erwin Rommel, Bernard Montgomery, and, of course, the many brave soldiers and officers on the ground. Rick Atkinson’s authoritative work An Army at Dawn: The War in North Africa, 1942–1943, winner of the Pulitzer Prize for nonfiction, was an invaluable resource. It’s a worthy read for any readers who want to learn more about the early years of America’s involvement in World War II.
Steve Watkins is the acclaimed author of Down Sand Mountain, winner of the Golden Kite Award; What Comes After; and Juvie; as well as the Ghosts of War books, including The Secret of Midway, Lost at Khe Sanh, and Fallen in Fredericksburg. Steve also writes as a freelance journalist and teaches yoga. His website is www.stevewatkinsbooks.com.
Other Ghosts of War books
The Secret of Midway
Lost at Khe Sanh
AWOL in North Africa
Fallen in Fredericksburg
Copyright © 2016 by Steve Watkins
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First printing 2016
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e-ISBN 978-1-338-03512-4
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