Chapter 2

Dear Babe,

I was sorry to hear about Doris. And it's TIM, Babe, not Jim. But no, I don't remember a Bill Guarnere. Did he go to our High School?

Calvin's home. The bottom of his left leg was blown off below the knee in Italy. He told me a man named Henry saved him, but died later of wounds from the same mortar that took Calvin's leg.

I'm glad you're getting along with the other men. I'm sure you'll be fine out there; they seem like good men, they'll protect you. Just know I'm proud of you, I wish I could do more than work in the shipyards. And your mom is proud of all you (she also told me to tell you she loves you, again, why she doesn't just write you herself I don't know). Just be careful, ok, Babe? I don't know what I'd do without you.

But yes, the plans between Tim and I are going well. As soon as he gets home, which may not be until this war is over, we can officially set the date. Would you mind being my Maid of Honour? You'd look awfully nice in the pink dresses my mom wants all the bridesmaids to wear. Ha ha.

I hope they aren't training you too hard, wouldn't want you to drop before you even see the enemy.

Regards,

Catherine

Babe got the letter on the airfield shortly before the boarded the planes to carry out Operation: MARKET GARDEN. The plan to end the war before Christmas, Lewis Nixon had told them. They all had a lot of hope for it; they'd all really love to be home.

Babe was helping one of the medics, Eugene Roe, quadruple check his supplies, so he stuffed the letter in his pocket to read later.

"Bandages?" Babe said, running down the list again.

"Check."

"Iodine?"

"Check."

"Morphine?"

"Check."

"Sulfanilamide?"

"Check." The list continued. But eventually it was time to get on the planes to head over to the DZ. None of them were looking forward to it. The Toccoa men all seemed calm, as if it would be a piece of cake, and all the replacements –Babe included—were nervous, not knowing what to expect.

The plane ride over was tension-filled. The drop was rather easy, with no resistance through Eindhoven.

Nuenen was an entirely different story. And Babe could personally thank Johnny Martin for leading him confidently and relatively safely. I mean, there is a war going on. But they had to fall back, which, even to the new guys, felt really nasty. Like they had failed. So Babe hunkered down the foxhole he had just dug himself and pulled out Cat's letter. It made him feel better knowing someone cared. He didn't have the supplies on him to write back, not that he would have been able to with the sun setting, but he promised himself as soon as he could he'd write back to tell her he'd survived his first combat jump. Would he survive the rest of this war? Who knows.

Dear Cat,

I survived my first combat jump. Who'd have guessed? At first there was no resistance, but in some other town there was. So I guess I can say I also survived my first experience with combat. I wasn't scared. With all those bullets racing around you, and mortars going off next to you there's no time to be scared. If you get scared you get killed. There's only time to make sure the men next to you stay safe and hope they watch out for you too.

But enough of that. Bill Guarnere went to our high school for his senior year, so we were both already gone by then, off to the shipyards. Which means you probably didn't date him (at least not yet). You're really not living up to your reputation, here. Although apparently he's heard of you. He's a good guy. I would never in a million years let you date him, because he's pretty wild, but he's a good guy to be next to in combat.

What in the good-god's creation made you think I would ever wear a pink dress? Not even for your wedding Catherine Rousseau. I would have to be mad or dead before I put on a pink dress. Or any dress. I would love to be there, so don't forget to invite me (as if you would dare NOT inviting me). And if I hear you got married before I get home, I will make you two get a divorce and remarry just so I can be there for it. You know I will.

I'm glad to hear Calvin's home. Tell him I owe him a game of darts. The boys really taught me some tricks back in England. One of the Lieutenant's shot lefty to make us think he was bad until we started betting and then he shot with his right hand and won. It was quite a trick, and lost me a pack of smokes.

I'll try to stay safe for you. Although I'm sure you'd be fine without me. You've got Fim, remember?

Regards,

Babe

P.S. You know we always say "regards" and it's a bit redundant to constantly say it, but I don't know what else to use so…

Tim's mother came over on a Wednesday, unannounced. Which either meant she had a really good idea for the wedding that couldn't wait, or that something really terrible was happening.

Catherine desperately hoped it was that she had a really good idea.

It wasn't. Tim was dead.

The telegram read: THE NAVY DEPARTMENT DEEPLY REGRETS TO INFORM YOU THAT YOUR SON TIMOTHY RAYLAND GREEN PHARMACISTS MATE FIRST CLASS USN WAS KILLED IN ACTION IN PERFORMANCE OF HIS DUTY AND IN THE SERVICE OF HIS COUNTRY. THE DEPARTMENT EXTENDS TO YOU ITS SINCEREST SYMPATHY IN YOUR GREAT LOSS. ON ACCOUNT OF EXISTING CONDITIONS THE BODY IF RECOVERED CANNOT BE RETURNED AT PRESENT. IF FURTHER DETAILS ARE RECEIVED YOU WILL BE INFORMED. TO PREVENT THE POSSIBLE AID OF OUR ENEMIES PLEASE DO NOT DIVULGE THE NAME OF HIS SHIP OR STATION. REAR ADMIRAL JACOBS THE CHIEF OF NAVY PERSONNEL.

It took just under 100 words to tell them of his death. It offered no details, no console that he died a hero. No hope that it was a mistake. Nothing.

Catherine couldn't think for a minute, she just sat there re-reading the telegram until the words were programmed in her brain. Dead. Her future husband was dead somewhere in the Pacific Ocean. There'd be no wedding. No new house. No future for him. And where did that leave her? A girl who's love was gone, never to return. Who would never feel the touch of his hand on hers again, never see the deep brown of his eyes again, and never taste the cinnamon of the candies he was always eating on his lips again. What was she to do?

The dead had it easy; they didn't have to pick up the pieces of lives this war was throwing around like a tornado does a trailer park. They didn't have to wake up every morning wondering "why me?" and go to bed every night with no answer.

It was only after Tim's mother had left, and dinner was served, and dishes were done that Catherine allowed herself to cry. Alone in her room, wishing Babe was here to fix her like after all the other times men had broken her heart. Except he wasn't. And she didn't know if she could heal after this. After all the boys she had been with, she was sure Tim was the one. He treated her like a person, which so few boys before him had done.

But he was gone. And she was alone in this world.

It was two days later that Babe's letter arrived. At least he was still alive. She didn't read it. Not yet. She was almost certain that he mentioned Tim. He probably called him something else because Babe never called him by his real name. As though by calling him something different he could pretend he didn't exist. Well now he doesn't. Babe probably joked about the wedding, and the pink dress she was going to make him wear. No, Cat most certainly could not read his letter. So she tucked it under her pillow with the other one from him. Tim's she always put in a box on her desk. Tim had gotten the box for her before he left. But Babe didn't have a box, and the safest place for them was under her pillow.

Maybe if she kept his letters safe she could keep him safe as well.

Well that was depressing. Sorry i had to add that so soon, but it's pretty crucial to the overall plot. Also, the next chapter will start off with a letter from Babe's mom, instead of from Cat. I'll remind you then, but this is just a pre-warning.

Let me know what you think. I know Babe's section was pretty short, but his next one will be really long, and Cat's will be shorter.

Thank you for all the reviews/favorites/follows. They really motivated me to get this out there. So keep up the reviews please!