"A Mother's Love"
by
Éclaireur
As the storm intensified, the shadows of two men came stumbling out of the darkness. If one looked closer though, it was apparent there were three men. Between the two, was a third man, who they where helping to walk. As another bolt of lightning lit up the stormy sky, the identity of the men were reveled.
"Careful Kirby, I almost lost my footing." Littlejohn, all six-foot, six inches of him was, to say the least, quite a bit taller than his two companions. The fact that they somehow had to perform as one was no small task for the bigger man. But if they hoped to find their lines and get help for their injured squad mate, that is exactly what they needed to do, perform as one!
Kirby's reply emphasized just how serious the situation was for their friend. Normally, Kirby wouldn't let Littlejohn get away with telling him, William G. Kirby, to be careful. Not on your life. He would say something smart like, "Ya big moose. I'm watching where I'm going; YOU'RE the one who needs to be watching where he's going." But instead of a smart ass remark, all Kirby did was reply with, "Sorry Littlejohn, I almost dropped him. I didn't see the tree root."
Between these two men, with one arm draped over Kirby's shoulder and one arm in the gentle grip of Littlejohn's large hands, was Caje. He appeared to be unconscious as his two friends tried desperately to continue on their way.
"Littlejohn, we got to find some shelter and quick. I think he's running a fever and it's getting colder by the minute out here. We need to get him out of this storm." Even though Kirby couldn't see him, Littlejohn nodded his head in agreement.
"Look Kirby, I think Caje and I should hole up under a tree or something, and you should maybe scout around and see what you can find." Kirby stopped dead in his tracks and looked up at his very tall friend, a surprised look on his wet face.
"Ya know, Littlejohn, that's a good idea."
"Well don't act so surprised. Maybe if you'd listen to me, instead of referring to me as a moose or what have you, you would know I do have some pretty good ideas once in a while."
"Yeah, I guess you're right. I don't listen and I do call you things that aren't too nice at times, but you're right. If we're going to find a place to hole up, we need to do it fast. Here, help me lay him down."
As Kirby started to lay Caje down, Littlejohn stopped him. "Hold up a minute. We can't just lay him on the ground, it's too cold. I'm going to have to hold him. Here, take him for a minute and let me sit down, and then give him to me. OK?" Littlejohn carefully handed Caje's left arm to Kirby so he could steady him. Caje's arm was swollen to twice it normal size, a bloody rag was wrapped around it between his wrist and his elbow. The arm appeared to be broken. With all of Caje's weight now on Kirby, Littlejohn eased his massive frame down to sit cross-legged on the cold hard earth. He then stretched his long legs out to form a kind of human cot for Caje to lie on. Kirby then, gently maneuvered Caje into the big man's arms, and then bent down to rearrange his legs. "Watch out for the shrapnel. I don't want it shoved in any deeper than it already is." Littlejohn reminded him.
"I know, I know, I'm being real careful. Thank God he's still out." Looking down at the two, Kirby thought to himself how childlike Caje appeared, lying there on Littlejohn's large frame.
As Kirby turned to leave, Littlejohn looked down at the man resting in his arms then turned to look back up at Kirby. He had one last request. "Ya gotta hurry, I don't think he's doing too good and we need to get him out of this storm."
As Kirby was leaving he could hear Littlejohn's teeth chattering from the cold, but not a sound from Caje. No shivering, no teeth chattering, no nothing. Caje appeared as if it was already too late, and maybe it was.
Kirby was scared; you could see it on his face. Not for himself, hell no, he'd been in a lot worse spots than this and always managed to come out on top. No, he was scared for Caje. His injuries weren't really that bad, but by getting cut off from the rest of the squad, his injuries had gone, for the most part, unattended.
Caje had been returning fire to help the Sarge and the rest of the squad pull back, after running unexpectedly, into a Kraut patrol. Littlejohn had just started his withdrawal, with Kirby following next, when the German grenade seemed to appear out of nowhere. It landed just a few feet from where Caje had been held up, firing rapidly so the squad could retreat to safety. Littlejohn saw it first and tried to warn him, but it was too late. The potato masher went off and sent Caje flying through the air, only to come crashing down on top of Kirby. At first, Kirby thought that Caje was fine. Only thing that seemed wrong was that when he landed, Caje's left arm went under both of them and it appeared broken.
On closer inspection though, his arm was not just broken, but it was a compound fracture. Not terribly bad, but a compound fracture none the less. A piece of shrapnel from the grenade had also found its way into his upper left thigh. Not a big piece, but it went in deep and it was still in there. They needed to get him to an aide station to have the shrapnel removed and his arm set. But now, that seemed to be something that was not going to happen soon. The German patrol, or what was left of it, left them, or more than likely, didn't see them and continued their attack on the rest of the squad. So there they were...the three of them, alone and unsure about where their lines where.
As Kirby was going over the events of the day that lead them up to their current predicament, he caught sight of what appeared to be a small flicker of light coming through the trees. A fire? Someone out here in the middle of nowhere has a fire going? He was so intent on finding shelter and aid for Caje, that he didn't give a damn if the fire up ahead belonged to friend or foe. All he knew was, a fire meant warmth and that was something Caje desperately needed now, to be warm.
As Kirby made his way through the trees, he noticed the light kept moving about, as if gliding through the air. As he crept closer, he saw that the light was coming from a clearing up ahead. Slowly now, he worked his way toward it. As he did so, he managed to get to the edge of the clearing, were he stopped. Parting the brush that was growing in a ring around it, he peeked in.
On doing this, a few things happened at once. First off the "fire" went out. It not only went out, but any trace of a fire was nowhere to be found. No ashes, no burnt wood, not even the smell of smoke, nothing! Then his eyes caught sight of what appeared to be a shrine of sorts. It had three sides and a leaking roof. It looked to be made of wood. But what he saw next really puzzled him. Standing inside the little structure was a woman! She was dressed in a long white robe, with a long, light blue scarf draped over her head and shoulders, covering her hair. As he looked in, the woman slowly lifted her head. Her clear blue eyes meet his and she smiled.
Kirby, taken aback with all this, stood up and started to stammer, "Ma'am, my friend, he's hurt pretty bad. I need to find some place to bring him, to get him out of this storm. Can I bring him here?" The look on the woman's face was of sorrow as she nodded her head to him. "Yes, bring Paul here, I will help you." Elated, that he had found some type of shelter, all Kirby could do was give the woman a feeble "thank you" as he turned to run back and fetch Littlejohn and Caje.
Halfway back, it dawned on him that the woman had referred to Caje by name. No, he must have heard wrong. How would a total stranger, who he had just by chance run into out in the middle of nowhere, known Caje's given name? No, he just imagined it, that's all.
As Kirby approached the trees where he had left Littlejohn and Caje, he stopped short. What if Caje is already dead? Kirby thought to himself. What if I'm too late? What Kirby did next was something short of a miracle. He stopped, went down on his knees, and prayed!
"Oh God, please, I know I don't deserve any favors from you, but I'm asking anyway. Please, let Caje still be alive. Please help me and Littlejohn get him to the shelter and PLEASE, let the woman there know how to help him, amen? Yeah, AMEN!"
It was crude, granted. But it was a prayer, none the less. And it wasn't for himself. This made it the type of prayer God so dearly loves to grant.
As he got up to leave, he could hear Littlejohn calling out to him. "Kirby? Kirby, is that you?"
"Yeah," Kirby called back. "Where are you? I can't see through all these trees." As Littlejohn continued to call Kirby's name, Kirby finally found them.
"OK, I found a place. Let's get him up."
"I'm going to just carry him," Littlejohn related to Kirby. "If it's not too far. I think it would be easier on him."
With Kirby's help, Littlejohn got to his feet and shouldered Caje. Not a sound came out of the unconscious man as all this took place. Not one sound.
"He's not doing to good, is he?" Kirby gently helped Littlejohn snugly tuck Caje's broken arm safely under him. He could feel the heat of a raging fever burning through his uniform. Kirby looked up into Littlejohn's eyes. "Come on, it's just past this grove of trees."
As they came upon the clearing, Kirby took the lead. As he parted the brush, he spied the little wooded structure. Inside was the woman, waiting for them. She had laid out what appeared to be a blanket on the ground, on which to lay Caje. Littlejohn, as he reached the structure, had to duck considerably to get him inside out of the wind and rain. He bent down, and very gently laid Caje on the blanket, then stood back, a look of awe on his face.
"Ma'am. Thank you so much. What can we do now to help him?"
"First, my sons, you must call me Mary, please."
"Thank You Mary," Littlejohn continued "What would you like us to do?"
As Mary knelt by Caje, she put her hand on his forehead. Feeling the extreme heat of his fever, she turned to Kirby and requested, "William, I will need that bottle of wine you have in your pack please".
Kirby stammered, "Wine?"
Mary continued,
"Yes William, the red wine you have tucked inside your pack. I will need that to cleanse his wounds and to purge the fever from his body. May I have it please?"
As Kirby removed the pack off his back, Littlejohn just stared at him. Kirby reached in and found the bottle and handed it over to Mary.
"Thank you, William. This, I hope, will help Paul more than I'm sure it would have helped you".
With a little smile, Mary retrieved the bottle, opened it and began to unwind the rags Caje had wrapped around his wounds and started to cleanse them.
"Wine? You brought wine with you on patrol? What's the matter with you? Do you have any idea how pissed the Sarge is going to be when he finds out?"
"What's the matter with me?" Kirby couldn't believe what he was hearing. "What's the matter with you? How did this woman KNOW I had wine with me, huh? And for that matter, how does she know our names too?" Kirby was shaking his head in disbelief.
Littlejohns response is what one would have expected. "Who cares how she knows? If the wine is something that is going to help Caje, who really cares? Where did you get it anyway? Let me guess, that little church just outside the last town we went through? I thought you told the Sarge you were checking to see if the padre's had left any food?"
"OK, so I saw a bottle of wine that was left. So what, right? It's a good thing I found it now, ain't it?"
"Found it? You call what you did, finding it? You stole it and you know it."
Kirby, starting to get flustered, could only reply with, "OK, yeah, I stole it. So what? It's a good thing too, 'cause if I hadn't, poor Caje would have nothing to help him, right?"
"Yeah," he continued talking to himself. "A good thing. A real good thing."
"OK, yeah, I suppose you're right." Littlejohn, seeing the hurt and confused look on Kirby's face, decided it was best to take a different approach. "I guess you did good Kirby and you're right, if you hadn't 'found' that wine, Mary wouldn't have anything to help him with so, you're right, it was a good thing."
The look on Kirby's face was exactly what Littlejohn was hoping for. It was a look of gratitude for finally doing something right.
Caje is the only friend Kirby really has. Kirby NEEDS to do something right. He needs to be there for Caje, as Caje has always been there for him, on more than one occasion. He needs to be able to help Caje. What he really needs, is for Caje not to die.
As Mary was finishing re-wrapping Caje's wounds, she stopped and looked down at him. His fever was still of great concern. His color was that of pale cloth and on both his cheeks, the color of fire remained. Out of nowhere, she produced a small drinking cup. In it, she poured a tiny amount of the red wine. Putting the bottle down, she put her hand gently under Caje's head. With a small amount of effort, she managed to raise him up a bit so she could get the cup to his lips. On doing this, Caje opened his eyes.
The look of confusion was apparent. As he looked up into Mary's eyes though, a smile appeared on his face.
"Oh Sainte Mère, vous êtes venu ici pour me ramener à la maison?"
Mary bent down close to Caje and said to him,
"Non, mon enfant précieux ... Il n'est pas encore votre temps. Vous devez boire ce vin, alors vous devez dormir ... oui?"
Caje let her lift his head a little higher, so he could take some of the wine. A few sips were all he could manage.
"Merci Sainte Mère, merci" Caje could not take his eyes off her. The smile had reappeared on his lips.
"Paul, mon enfant ... vous faut dormir maintenant."
With that said, Caje's eyes slowly closed into slumber. Mary smiled down on him, then sensing someone close by, she lifted her head to see Kirby standing at the front of the shelter, watching.
Kirby had been standing there the whole time Caje was awake. Not knowing what was being said, he asked
"What was he saying to you?"
Mary gently laid Caje's head back down, then looked back up at Kirby.
"He wanted to know the time."
"He wanted to know the time? That's kind of a strange request, don't ya think?"
Mary reached over and picked up the bottle of wine and in her other hand produced the cork, which she put back on the bottle. She then handed it to Kirby.
"Here William, I want you to take this and put it back into your pack. Then I would like you and John to eat some of the food that is in there. You both need to keep up your strength if you are going to be of any help to Paul."
Again, Kirby was taken aback at the fact that this woman knew he had a box of rations in his pack. How does she keep doing this? Who is she?
Mary looked into Kirby's eyes and answered his unspoken question. "I know you are confused by my presence here. Please, do not be afraid. Just know I am a Mother, looking after her sons, all her sons."
With that she repeated her request. "Please William, you and John must eat and get some rest. I will sit up and watch over Paul. He will be fine. When you and John awake, prepare one of the little packets of broth you have in your pack and make sure Paul has some. He will also need more wine. It has helped, but he is still very hot to the touch."
Kirby could only nod his head in agreement. He opened his pack and took out the box of rations. Opening it, he set aside the bouillon package for Caje then took the rest to Littlejohn, who had been standing at the edge of the clearing, guarding the little group.
As Kirby approached the spot he had last seen Littlejohn at, he softly called out, "Littlejohn, it's me."
Over by one of the larger trees, Littlejohn's head appeared, "Over here, Kirby." As Kirby approached, Littlejohn asked, "Is Caje OK? He's not any worse, is he?"
"No, no, he's doing better, I think? Mary got those dirty rags off him and found something clean to bandage him with after she cleaned him up. She also managed to get a bit of the wine down him. He came to there for a minute."
"Littlejohn?" He paused for a moment, then continued, "When he saw Mary, I don't know, the look on his face was, odd."
"Odd? How so Kirby?"
"Well" Kirby continued, "He looked up at her and at first, just smiled. Here he is, burning up with fever and he sees Mary and smiles. Don't you think that's odd?"
"No. Not really. He must've known she was helping him, so he smiled."
"Yeah, but then he said something in French and she answered. When I asked what it was he said, she told me, he wanted to know what time it was. Now that, you must admit, is odd, right?"
"Kirby, you've run a high fever before, right? We tend to ask questions that some how relate to what we were dreaming of at the time. Not realizing that we are ill. Does that make sense to you?"
"Yeah, I guess so Littlejohn, but still. There is something very strange about Mary, don't you think?"
"If by 'strange' you mean that she is out here in the middle of nowhere, helping us to keep Caje alive, well then, yes. Thank God there is something 'strange' about Mary." With that said he asked, "What ya got there, food?"
As he and Kirby shared the meager rations, back at the shelter Mary continued to watch over Caje as he slept.
Kirby, seeing that Littlejohn had already taken a turn at standing guard, relieved him and told him what Mary had said. "To get some rest."
So Kirby was left standing watch, when the black of night started to turn a soft gray.
As the sun sent its first rays out to test the morning, Kirby could hear voices coming toward the little clearing. Alarmed, he rushed over to where Littlejohn had curled up.
"Littlejohn!" Kirby, trying to speak softly but failing, "Littlejohn, I hear voices! Wake up; it could be that Kraut patrol coming back. Wake UP!"
"I'm awake, I'm awake. If it is that Kraut patrol, they sure as hell know we're here now. You really need to learn how to whisper, little man."
Through the brush emerged, not a Kraut patrol, but what appeared to be a procession of pilgrims, each carrying a set of wooden rosary beads and flowers.
They where heading straight for where Caje was lying, tucked away in the shelter.
Kirby, fearing the worse, ran to stand in front of the little shrine with his BAR pointing straight at the group of flower toting strangers.
What a sight it was. One American GI, with one Very Large Gun, pointing at a group of flower bearing towns people.
"Stop. What are you doing here?"
The man at the front of the group turned to his followers and said "N'ayez pas peur. Il est, mais un soldat américain."
The "man" turned out to be the "padre" from the little church into which Kirby had "found" the wine. The priest turned back to explain their presence to Kirby and Littlejohn. Littlejohn had moved inside the little shelter, kneeling on the ground in front of Caje, to offer what ever protection he may need.
"My sons," The priest started, "we are but a poor group of faithful worshipers who wish to pay our respects to Our Holy Mother on this," Looking a bit ashamed, "On this, the day AFTER her Birthday. We have always paid homage to her on the 8th day of September. As it is written, that this is the day we were blessed with her birth. But, alas, yesterday was not a day we could get here, as the war was something that stood in our way. So today we have come! What now my sons have brought you to this Holy Shrine?"
Kirby, flustered to no end, just stood there. "Shrine?" Was all he could say. Littlejohn, a bit more in control of his thoughts, eased his way out of the structure.
"Excuse us father, but our friend was badly injured. We meant no disrespect. The woman who was here told us it was OK to bring him. She took care of his injuries. She was here a few hours ago, but I don't know where she went. She will be able to explain it to you better, as she speaks French."
The priest looked up into Littlejohn's eyes and just smiled. "A woman, my son? A woman was here and she helped your friend? Just what did this woman look like?"
Confused by the question, Littlejohn hesitated. So of course that left Kirby to explain, "Well, she was wearing a long white robe, and she had a beautiful blue scarf over her head and shoulders"
As he was describing Mary, the little band of worshipers gathered around Caje, who was still inside the little shrine. They started to lay the flowers down around where his head was. Seeing this, Kirby piped up, "Now wait a dog gone minute, he's not dead! He don't need you to be placing flowers around him like that."
The priest, still smiling responded, "These flowers are not for the dead, but for the living. They are to show our love for OUR HOLY MOTHER".
As Kirby turned around to see what he was talking about, he looked past Caje's head and saw, for the first time, a statue!
It was of a woman, dressed in a long white gown, with a beautiful blue scarf on her head and shoulders, covering her hair.
And on top of her head, was a wreath of flowers!
Both Littlejohn and Kirby were speechless.
That woman who had helped Caje couldn't possibly have been the same. No, no way.
But it must have been.
Who else could it have been?
And yesterday was the 8th of September.
But a miracle?
Could they have possibly witnessed a real miracle?
The priest told Littlejohn and Kirby that he was sending someone back to fetch the town's doctor. They would help carry Caje into their town and then send word to the unit to come transport him to a proper hospital.
Caje would be alright.
"Yes Kirby, he will live. For you mon fils, he will live."
With her eyes closed in prayer,
a slight smile appears on the face of the statue of
"OUR HOLY MOTHER".
With that, our story comes to
La fin
Dieu vous bénisse tous.
Éclaireur