Guttentag! Check the spelling on that one. This chapter is a little shorter than the rest, but I needed it to end where it ended. Plus I think I have been pretty swell about updating, so...
Thank you to all who leave reviews. Special thanks to serenity11287, Miss Katharine, tryntee13, Cute Teshi, and lolly25081989 and all others who leave loving reviews/criticizing reviews. I take it all in and appreciate your comments. I am really sorry about the grammer and character name mix ups. Hopefully this is slightly better, but you know how it goes. It's hard to proofread your own work. PS About the other soldiers, you can take them as you will. Personally I feel that the generals have too long of hair to be in the armed forces, so maybe with chopped hair!
This story IS finished. I could put it out right now and be happy, but I want to be SATISFIED. And I want you guys to be too. I have been continually tweakind and making it longer. Unfortunately, I have some pretty heavy projects coming up, and I will try to update as often as I can. But, yet again, I don't want this to end mediocre. It would completely ruin my job and your pleasure.
Lastly, in this chapter, you will see time moves along quite fast. And this is for two reasons. Number one, I know readers don't want be lovers to be away for too long, but I needed to get across the feelings of war. Second of all, in the winter, armies were bogged down so nothing truly crucial happened.
Again, let me stress reviewing. Just no profanity and vitriolic comments. Like I said, criticisms only make me better. But some happy things are great too!
Disclaimer: Don't own the characters and most things I owe to strong individuals of the past.
The war dragged on. Darien's letters did lessen to a slow trickle. Summer, turned into autumn, and autumn to winter. Serena was still writing Darien every two days or so, filling him on everything. She was living back at home now. Ralph slept in her twin bed with her at home. He knew her feelings and would snuggle with her when she was lonely.
She likened herself to a machine. To a robot that she had read about in a recent novel. She would wake up, go to school, go to work, come home, eat, talk to her friends and family, possibly write a letter, and then sleep. There was no spontaneity. The passion had left her when the bus drove away.
She was so numb that it hadn't gotten easier to bear the burden, but it had, unfortunately, turned into a state of normality. Christmas was approaching. She heard many Christmas carols about the war. She knew Darien wouldn't be home.
She was an avid reader of the paper now. She knew that the allies had fought the Battle of the Bulge. That night she stayed awake, looking out her window. It had been a rough victory with many casualties on the winning side. She would go to bed every night praying to a newly discovered God. She called him the God of War, not in the pagan sense, but he had just become a great force in her life after being bombed by the Japanese. Paris was in the hands of the allies. She wondered where Darien was. Andrew had been trying to siphon all the information he could, but even that was very little.
His last letter said he was still at the front lines. He mentioned very little about the war because, ever since the first letter, it seemed he was sheltering her from the brutality of war. He was desperately trying to stay positive for her, she could tell.
School had picked back up and she was busy with both work and class. Ralph was finally potty-trained, so that was a relief. But every night she cried. It had been over half a year without Darien. She wanted to say she could go another, but she didn't know if she could.
"Serena?" her mother asked her.
"Yes?" Serena had been starring at the wall for a half an hour.
"Are you feeling all right?"
"I'm, I'm fine today."
"Is there anything you want to talk about?"
"Well, it's just; I don't know how much longer I can go without Darien! I mean, I barely hear from him and he is constantly moving and fighting. He doesn't tell me all that goes on!"
"Serena!" her mother said. Serena looked up; her mother's face was soft despite her tone. "Doesn't that say something about your relationship that you have made it this far? Did you think this was going to be easy?" Serena shook her head no. "And I guarantee Darien rarely knows where he is going next! And do you really want him to tell you the horrors of war?" Serena shook her head no again. "Darien will be home soon. We are winning the war. Right now his country needs him. After the war, you can have him all to yourself and give me little grandchildren." Serena let a small smile invade her face.
"Thanks mom."
"Now help me bake these cookies for the men down at the hospital! The auxiliary needs them by tomorrow."
It was Christmas on the war front. Darien was sitting, reading his letters from Serena. He was at Strasbourg in Alsace. They had just taken it back from the Germans. A few men were passing around a soccer ball. He was listening to French and English Christmas carols on the radio, staring at her picture occasionally. He hoped she was having an okay Christmas.
He had written a Christmas letter for her, hoping it would reach her on Christmas Eve. He was guessing that his letter reached her in about two weeks or so. The army was trying to keep moral up with mail.
"Dare!" Zane called out. "Come on, we need an extra man!" They had settled on soccer because the other allies didn't understand football or baseball. Darien jogged over and joined Zane's team, the Americans, versus the Brits. There was some frost on the ground and some muddy spots. They were slipping and sliding, trying to make the best of the holiday. They were pushing towards Berlin, trying to beat the Soviets there. Some said they were close to Warsaw, so Eisenhower had them pushing. Patton was going to take over soon. The Battle of the Bulge was going well. The first and third divisions were expected to meet in the next days. Everything was looking up for the allies. He hoped to be in Serena's arms within the next three months, but he knew that was asking for a lot.
There had been some close calls in the past four months. He didn't tell Serena, but a mine had nearly been the end of him. If Zane hadn't been joking around and threw his canteen on top of it, Darien would have been flying high. It was funny how the little coincidences affected life and death situations. He had a scar on his stomach from barbed wire. They had patched up his jacket where it had sliced through.
The Nazis could batter his body all they wanted, as long as it was relatively healthy, intact, and living for his Serena when he got home. His spirit could never be dominated. He hoped this was enough to keep his physical self going.
Serena was sitting in her parents' sitting room. It was getting dark out. There was a dusting of snow on the ground. In her hands was a letter from Darien that she had received on the twenty-third. It said not to open it until Christmas.
Serena,
Merry Christmas! I am so sorry I can't be with you. We are pushing Serena and we are winning. It's hard, but soon I will be back with you. Stay strong. Everything is going surprisingly well and I just hope that it doesn't stop. But it is war and it could turn at any moment. I don't want to be cynical, but in these situations, you can't help it. I also don't want to get my hopes up, but Hitler is at our doorstep!
You will have to tell me all the things you receive for Christmas and what you wanted. Next Christmas I promise to make it all up to you. How's the house? I understand that you have moved back in with your parents. I am glad that you are surrounded by people who take care of you.
How's Andrew? That lucky man with the million-dollar wound! Is he back at the diner? He wrote, telling me he's attending school to become a doctor, saying I inspired him. I have trouble believing this is so, but I hope he finds his calling. Support him for me, there is really no more rewarding position.
Serena, I love you with all of my heart and every day it grows. In the letter there is some dirt, or at least there should be. It's soil, from here and Europe. My boot has been on it. I know it sounds stupid, but I hope it can somehow make you think that we're closer. I see you in my dreams, my darling.
Love always, Darien
She had petted the dirt like it was a diamond. Darien had been there. It was as if she and he were touching at that moment. She let a tear fall and it mixed with the dirt, muddying the letter. She didn't care. Darien was catching her tears.
Darien was walking a week later. The Germans were withdrawing from Ardennes. The armies were pushing forward, trying to get to the Rhine. The Soviets were pushing. There orders were to beat Stalin. But the Nazis had practically given up on the Eastern front, creating more problems for the major bulk of the allies.
There was an explosion and a hail of bullets from above. Plains were flying above. German insignias emblazoned on them, trying to cut down the troops before they reached the river. They were more suicide mission nowadays.
The bullets cut down Joseph and Darien ran over him, Nathaniel and Zane providing cover fire. They and two more men were all that was left of their ten man squad.
"Darien," Joseph said in a slow voice. He had gotten a bullet in the stomach. "Darien, I wanted a Moonlight Maid," he joked.
"Joseph, you'll get yours."
"Maybe she's waiting for me in heaven. An angel, just like yours."
"Joe, stop being a fucking idiot and snap out of it!" Hell was breaking loose around them. "I need to get your jacket off."
"Don't Darien. I know they've punctured it. That artery you've talked about before?"
"Joe stop," Darien told him over and over again, yelling at him. "We have to reach it before the reds, remember?"
"Get there Darien. But not for the reds, or Eisenhower, or Roosevelt. For her," Joseph told him.
"For who?"
"Your Moonlight Maiden, of course." Joseph's eyes fluttered shut.
"Joe!" Darien yelled. "JOE!" he cried out. He flashed back when he pulled Joe out of the water, when Joe pretended to be Serena, and when he was playing soccer with him. "NO!" he yelled, tears streaming down his face for the first time during the war. "JOE!" The life and laughter was soon disappearing from his face. He checked his pulse and it was dying down.
"Joe!" Nathaniel yelled. Zane was still shooting away. Darien laid his head on his chest. His heart was stopping. Darien tried to clean and dress the wound, but he couldn't with all his gear still on. Darien took out his knife and slashed through the restraints. When he did that Joe's blood spurted out a little, showing his pulsing body was halting. Sure enough, a major artery had been punctured. Darien took his helmet and slammed it on the ground. The loud noises were retreating and the soldiers were looking to the fallen.
Darien took Joe's helmet and gun. The fighting had died down and a few more soldiers were gathering around Joe's body. Darien stuck his gun in the frozen ground with all off his might and hung his helmet upon it. He hung his head. Did it ever end?
Yalta. All Serena's hopes rested on this place she had never previously heard of. The ailing Roosevelt was headed there to talk with Churchill and Stalin. Maybe they would send some men home; she didn't know exactly what that conference signified.
She was at her home. Andrew and Lita were over. She had moved out of her parents' house. Her mother was constantly watching her and she couldn't take it anymore. The pity, it was the worse feeling she had ever been subjected to.
Andrew had just received news that a good friend of he and Darien's had died in a German raid. It was Valentine's Day. The days weren't as slow as they used to be. A state of war was a constant reality. Darien seemed to be sending more and more letters. Given, there wasn't one every couple of days, Serena expected one every other week. But she still cried, more than before. Things were coming back from the war. Things about camps where people were herded by the Nazis to die, major casualties, and family-friends who had experienced loss. The Allies had yet to encounter one of the camps mentioned, but the Soviets said enough.
"Joe," Andrew strangled out. He had been crying for the last hour. Serena couldn't fathom what could make hardened, battle worn men cry. Lita had her arm around him and was trying to comfort him. None of the girls had gone after Andrew relationship wise since he had gotten home. He clearly needed time. Serena wondered how much time Darien would need and would she be able to give it to him.
"Serena, could you get something to drink for Andrew?"
"Preferably strong," he replied.
"Sorry Drew, but I don't have any in the house. Only Darien had an occasional whisky." Ralph padded into the room and set his head down on Andrew's lap. Andrew padded his head. Serena brought Drew a glass of warm milk. He drank it in one gulp and continued staring at the table.
Is that what Darien would be reduced to?
Darien had never seen anything like it. It was April 12. March had blown in and out. All they did was walk. The march to Berlin was time consuming. The Soviets were readying to take Berlin. They had made the journey faster, but Eisenhower was still pushing them. He had just been informed that Roosevelt had died and Truman was president.
They were coming upon one of the rumored "concentration" camps. Darien entered the area, German inscriptions everywhere. German officials were gathered in the middle, hands up, allied guns holding them where they were. People were coming out of the buildings.
No, they weren't people, they were walking skeletons. Darien couldn't believe his eyes. Predominantly men, the crowd also held a few women and children. "Oh my God, help me," he heard Zane say to his side. He looked and Zane's eyes were rolling back into his head. Nathaniel reached out and steadied him, Zane regaining the stolid look in his face.
"Medic!" someone yelled, bringing a child out. It was an emaciated little girl, barely breathing. Darien intercepted the soldier and told him to place the child on something flat. Darien at first noticed several wounds inflicted on the child. He cleaned them up, telling Nathaniel to find him medical supplies were. Soldiers were running all over, bringing food from the Nazis store rooms.
Darien looked around and saw a young girl, scantily clad, with blue eyes and white hair. The white was caused from extreme malnutrition and poor health. She was walking towards him, arms held out. "Mein baby!" she was pointing at the child and then to the baby. "Sie sparen mien baby?"
"Ja," Darien replied. He was beginning to know enough German to understand what she said. The medical supplies were brought. The child was hooked up to a nutrition pack and the mother was fed some bread and milk to wean her on a more healthy diet. She just watched Darien. Someone eventually brought her over a blanket and she accepted it, wrapping it around her soldiers. The child was then covered with a blanket. Color began to come back to the child's face.
"Thank you," she said in English. "You, stay, here?" she asked tentatively. Darien nodded and turned back to the child. "Help?" He nodded again. "They say, the fraulines, Americans very beautiful," she told him. Darien looked up to her. Despite her emaciated state, she was shining. "You, very handsome."
"Thank you," he bowed his head. "I am going over here, another sick…" he trailed off. The women nodded and he walked off to look at more patients.
"Dare, Dare!" he heard Zane's voice call out. "Our squad and a couple others are to stay here and help the people. We don't have to walk anymore!" Darien nodded his head, still tending to the patient. "You need me to do anything?"
"Try to get as much food and supplies as you can. These people need urgent medical care and there are not enough medics to provide it. Since some are leaving, we need to take care of them while we can."
"Yes sir." Zane ran off into the crowd of people. Darien moved from patient to patient until he finally reached the mother and daughter again. The mother was look slightly less pale and the child's breathing had stabilized.
"Do you have a husband?" he asked.
"Eh…husband?"
"Father? Kinder's father?"
"Oh, he." She made a gun out of her hand and shot her head. Darien had a sharp intake of breath and went back to carrying for the child. "You, be my, husband?"
"Oh no!" Darien told her. "I'm married."
"Oh, you have ehefrau?"
"Ja," he replied. He rummaged around in his pockets and took out the picture of Serena.
"Very pretty. Do you have kinder?"
"No, not yet. Hopefully when I go home."
"You make great father." Darien smiled at her. "Your ehefrau, very happy."
It had happened. Hitler had committed suicide, Germany was on the verge of surrender. Serena prayed every night for Darien's safe return. They still had yet to subdue certain factions. But the war in Europe was over and everything would be back to normal soon. Maybe not exactly the way it was, but Darien would be home.
She checked the mail box every day, hoping for something, anything, to keep her going. She would cry just as much. Not because she was sad, but tears of stunned and frantic joy. It was so close. She could feel Darien's warmth beneath her finger tips. Then the single greatest thing happened in her life.
She got a letter.
My dearest darling Serena,
I am due home June 15th. I have been working in one of those horrible concentration camps for the last couple of months. I have saved a lot of people but seen a lot of people die at the same time. It made me realize why I am over here. I have found out a lot of things about the Nazis. No, we shouldn't hate the Germans. I have met some very nice Germans, some that I was even shooting at before. The war has drained them as it has us.
Here there's a women that keeps following me around. I saved her child from certain death. I wonder if that redeems me of the people I have killed. I don't know what my future life will hold for me. But I know in my present life I will be with you shortly.
I stayed at the concentration camp for a little over a week before being withdrawn and having Jewish doctors take over. I've learned a lot. The language barrier is sometimes hard, but a few translate for me. It makes me want to learn another language. I feel so lacking not being able to understand them fully all the time.
I can't wait to be home with you and it's less than a month away. Well, by the time this letter will reach you. I don't know when this letter will reach you, but be there. Two o'clock on the fifteenth, I will be looking for my maiden in white.
Love, Darien