Since arriving in Benning, a lot had changed for Holly.
She had leadership skills and had trained hard as a medic.
With everything she had learned in Benning, Holly had also been taught how to swim. Thirteen weeks had gone by so quickly. And now, she had the skills to train, lead and heal. It would be a large responsibility on her shoulders but at that moment, Holly didn't feel the weight. For she had another reason to feel the pressure of nerves. A very important man wanted to meet with Holly before the graduation ceremony. She wore her new uniform with pride. And felt her spine stiffen. Taking in a deep breath, Holly turned away from the mirror;
"I feel sick".
Winters was straightening his tie.
Smiling softly at her, he said;
"you'll be fine, Holly". He assured her, "this is great. You'll have to tell me all about it".
"I hope I don't vomit all over his shoes".
Nixon laughed;
"please, do!"
"Ignore him, Holly". Winters told her, "you're not 'gonna be sick, you're fine. I promise".
Rubbing her lips together, she asked;
"why does he want to meet me?"
Nixon sat up in his bed;
"well, he's all for women in the Army. And seeing as you'll be in a combat role, I'm pretty sure he's over the damn moon, Holly".
Holly ran a shaky hand down her face;
"I don't know why I'm so nervous".
"Cause he's important". He said, "but underneath that title, he's just a man, Holly".
"Nix is right". Winters said.
Holly frowned;
"what if he doesn't like me? What if he thinks I'm a big bag of disappointment?"
With a frown of his own, Winters placed his hand on the side of her face;
"he's going to think you're remarkable, Holly".
With a tiny smile, Holly stood on the balls of her feet and kissed him on the lips.
Nixon checked his watch;
"Holly, you're 'gonna 'wanna leave now, bud".
Winters quickly gave her another kiss;
"good luck, honey…not that you'll need it".
Leaving the barrack and feeling light but heavy at the same time, Holly made her way towards one of the main buildings in the camp. The graduation ceremony would take place outside the main building and she could see a group of men setting things up for the ceremony. Walking up towards the building, someone on the inside opened the set of double doors, allowing her to step inside. Holly gave the man a nervous sort of smile and soon found herself standing in a very large and open entrance. The staircase was grand and double. And above her, was a silver chandelier. It was the most expensive place she had ever stepped into.
Holly stood there alone.
The man who opened the door, hadn't said a word to her.
In fact, when Holly checked to see if he was still there, he wasn't.
Frowning a little, she faced the front again and waited for further instructions.
She had a rule to follow. And it was simple; wait in the entrance.
Holly assumed that meant no touching as well. For her fingers were suddenly itching to touch a golden eagle statue next to her. Holly clasped her hands together, stopping herself from doing so.
"Duffy?" A familiar voice called.
Holly felt her shoulders drop in relief at the sight of Lieutenant Mathews.
The man smiled at her;
"he's ready to see you now. Come with me".
Holly walked over to her old Lieutenant and asked;
"who else will be there, sir?"
"Just him, Duffy". Mathews said to her, "he'd prefer it that way".
Holly never asked why;
"fair enough, sir".
He huffed softly;
"do you know what you're doing?"
"Not really, sir". Holly replied honestly, "I figured I'd just wing it. If it fails, he might just chuck me out of America".
Mathews chuckled quietly;
"I highly doubt that, Duffy".
They walked down a corridor until they were standing outside a set of double doors.
All was very quiet.
Holly looked at the Lieutenant.
He smiled;
"ready?"
Taking in a deep breath, she nodded;
"ready, sir".
Mathews knocked on the door.
Soon after, a voice replied;
"enter".
The Lieutenant opened the door and Holly stepped inside.
Mathews quickly closed the door after, not meeting the man insides eyes.
But Holly did.
Standing on her mark, she straightened herself up and saluted him.
He gave her a broad smile and saluted her back;
"Holly Duffy". He greeted, "what an honour".
Holly's words got stuck in her throat. And she couldn't speak.
General George Marshall ended the salute;
"please, be seated". He said, nodding towards a chair opposite him.
Wordlessly, Holly sat down.
She could feel her palms grow sweaty and hoped to God, that the good General didn't want to shake her hand. On the table next to his armchair, was a teapot and two cups;
"tea?"
Blinking a few times, Holly nodded;
"yes, sir".
The General smiled;
"you know, it was the British who got me into tea". He said, "I refused a cup once in London and the man looked extremely offended. Eventually, I had to accept the drink. Just to get that look off his face".
Holly's eyes lightened with amusement;
"that's funny, sir".
He chuckled quietly;
"yes, it was, Duffy". He confirmed, "now, milk and sugar?"
Holly nodded;
"yes, please, sir". She said, "just one sugar, sir".
"Good choice". The General approved, "that's how I take my tea as well".
Licking her bottom lip, she said;
"and I was afraid we'd have nothing in common, sir".
He chuckled again;
"well, we'll always have this in common, Duffy".
When the tea was made, the General handed her a cup;
"there you go".
"Thank you, sir".
Sitting back against the armchair, the General let out a content sigh;
"I suppose you're wondering why I wanted to meet you, Duffy?"
She nodded after taking a sip of tea;
"yeah…I did, sir".
He smiled;
"I've always said, women would be great in the Army. I believe you are all more focused. Now, my opinion wasn't an extremely popular one".
Holly's lips twitched.
The General continued;
"but I stand by what I said. Which brings me to you, Duffy. The daughter of a war hero. Who is now playing a part in this war".
Holly set her teacup on the table.
He smiled again;
"you graduate today, correct?"
"Yes, sir". She confirmed, "as a 2nd Lieutenant".
"Outstanding". He said, "and what will your role be, Duffy?"
"A combat medic, sir". Holly told him, "only, they want me to train and lead a small group of them".
The General nodded;
"good. So, I suggest you lead medics within a Company". He said, "you'll be in charge of assigning them a Platoon, making sure they look after themselves and get the job done. And you'll train them?"
Holly nodded;
"I will, sir". She said, "they also want me to hold lectures".
Another smile lifted his face;
"excellent, Duffy". He said, "your father would have been so proud of you".
Her eyes softened at that.
The General then said;
"you both have the same nose". He smiled, "I met him once. When I was in Edinburgh. He was a very humble man. I was terribly sad when I heard of his passing".
Frowning, Holly nodded.
With a sigh, he said;
"but he lives in you now, Duffy. And I am happy to give you my blessing. Now, a reporter wishes to take our photograph for the newspaper. America are eager to hear about this, Duffy".
Rubbing her lips together, she nodded;
"yes, sir".
The General and Holly stood up.
After calling for him, a man soon appeared with his camera.
Smiling at her, the General then said;
"let's pose with a handshake, Duffy".
"Okay, sir".
Turning to look at him, Holly was soon shaking the General's hand.
And a huge flash went off from the camera, almost blinding her.
It was a very surreal experience.
Another flash went off.
"Face the camera, please". The reporter asked her kindly.
Taking in a deep breath, Holly faced the camera, still shaking the Generals hand.
"Remember to smile, Corporal Duffy". The reporter said.
A small smile reached her lips.
And the camera let out one more flash.
With the pictures taken, the reporter left the room. Smiling, the General nodded towards the chair again. Taking the hint, Holly sat back down. The General then reached into his jacket pocket and brought out an envelope. He handed it to Holly, who took it, with a tiny confused frown.
"Why don't you open that, Duffy". He told her.
Nodding, Holly started to open the envelope.
"More tea?" He asked her.
"No thank you, sir". She kindly declined.
Inside the envelope was a photograph.
She recognized the men in the picture. It was General Marshall, shaking hands with her dad, Thomas Duffy. Only this time, Thomas was facing the camera. He wasn't smiling but his eyes were, she could see the twinkle in them.
General Marshall brought out one of his cigars;
"you may keep that, Duffy". He told her, "I wasn't sure if you had seen that picture before".
Still staring at the photo, she shook her head.
Afraid to speak, in case she broke down.
The General smiled kindly;
"I never met your mother that day". He told her, "she was at home. Resting".
Holly swallowed back a lump in her throat, while her fingers gently mapped out the shape of her dad's face.
"At that point, your mother was seven months pregnant with you". He said.
She could feel her eyes start to burn with tears.
"But your father spoke so fondly of Emma". The General continued to tell her, "they had plans to move into the country. But Mrs Duffy was reluctant to leave her job".
Licking her bottom lip, Holly's eyes pulled away from the photo.
And she looked up at the General;
"what was her job, sir?" She asked him quietly.
He smiled;
"she was a teacher, in the primary school".
Holly smiled, though it trembled.
"I always thought she was, sir". She croaked.
Smiling still, the General reached over and gave her hand a gentle squeeze;
"it's been a pleasure, Corporal Duffy".
Holly smiled back at him and nodded;
"thank you, sir".
With her father's picture close to her heart, Holly graduated as a 2nd Lieutenant, along with Winters, Nixon and the other Candidates from that class. It was a proud moment, and everyone shone brightly with their shiny new golden bars on their collars. They all felt pride and accomplishment they could barely contain.
After the ceremony, they had a large celebration in one of the Red Cross buildings.
Nixon, being the life of the party, drank his weight in alcohol. But Holly didn't drink that night, she was in a world of her own with Winters. The pair of them left the building together.
Sneaking outside, Holly took his hand.
They walked along the lit sidewalk, passing by other brick buildings.
"Do you remember when we arrived at Croft? And Slusher gave Trent hell for the crumbs on his shirt?" Winters asked Holly, remembering that moment with a grin.
Holly smiled and nodded;
"yeah, I do". She replied lightly, "I wonder how Trent's doing".
"I'm sure he's doing great". Winters said, "I was actually thinking about Ryan the other day. I hope we see him again before we leave for Airborne training".
Holly sighed;
"I'm kind of glad we get to go back to Croft for a bit". She mumbled, "do you think the new Regiment we've been accepted into will be good?"
Winters nodded;
"yeah, I do". He confirmed, "sounds exciting, doesn't it?"
"I'm still trying to wrap my head around jumping out of a plane". Holly admitted with a smile, "but I guess we have to be alright with it. Now that we're officers".
Winters grinned;
"I can't believe we actually did that together".
Holly looked at him;
"I can". She said, "we've been civilians together, Privates, Corporals and now, we're Lieutenants. We were meant to do all of those things together".
Holly stopped them both and turned to face him fully.
"I couldn't have done any of this without you, Dick". She said, "I wouldn't be, who I am today, if it wasn't for you".
Winters eyes softened into hers.
Smiling, Holly's arms wrapped around his neck;
"I love you". She whispered, "thank you".
His eyes glistened slightly.
Winters held the side of her face and their lips met.
…
Their time in Benning had gone by so quickly and so much had happened during those thirteen weeks. It was almost hard to believe that Holly had only moved in with Winters three years ago. The best moments in her life happened with Winters by her side. They wouldn't get their small holiday away together, after Benning, they were sent straight to Croft again. And in Croft, they trained the new recruits for war.
It wasn't all that bad.
One of Winters men was a friend of his back home and from college. Rick Burgess. He was a handsome man, who was engaged to a beautiful woman back in Pennsylvania. Winters lent his friend a suit and one hundred and twenty-five bucks to get married. It was such a sweet gesture. Holly gave out many lectures on sanitation and basic first aid for the enlisted men. For seven weeks they lived a normal life in Croft while awaiting their call-up date. It was somewhat relaxing.
However, Holly did have a couple of days of stress.
After holding a lecture on first aid to the enlisted men, Private Burns approached her after the lecture had ended and the hall cleared. Holly noticed him nervously walking over to her. And to ease his nerves, she gave him a smile;
"can I help you, Burns?"
"Can I speak with you, Lieutenant?"
Holly nodded;
"yeah, alright". She told him, "what's going on, mate?"
With her easy-going manner, Burns somewhat relaxed.
But he still looked troubled;
"it's my son, Lieutenant". He told her quietly, "he ain't well…and we ain't sure what it is".
"Have you taken him to the doctor?"
"We have, ma'am". He said, "but he don't know nothing. He thinks it's a bad cough".
Rubbing her lips together, Holly asked;
"but you don't?"
Burns shook his head;
"no". He whispered, "he's two, Lieutenant. And he ain't stopped coughing. He barely eats 'cause he's always throwing-up from coughing too much. He was in hospital for three weeks, but the docs don't know what it is".
"So, he's underweight?"
Burns nodded;
"he is, ma'am".
Biting her bottom lip, Holly rubbed the back of her neck and sighed quietly;
"I'm not a doctor, Burns". She mumbled, "I'm a medic".
"I know, Lieutenant". He said, "but…I just don't know what else to do about it, ma'am".
"Do you live in a small town, Burns?"
He nodded;
"we do, ma'am".
"Why don't you get your kid checked up here?" Holly suggested, "we have modern equipment".
Burns sighed;
"I wish, ma'am". He said, "but it ain't possible right now".
"Okay, Burns". She said, "tell me his symptoms and I'll see what I can do".
"It's a cough, Lieutenant". Burns started to explain, "he coughs up this dark, green stuff. And he can't breathe right from it. I figured he had pneumonia all his life, ma'am but I don't think that's right, is it?"
Holly shook her head;
"no, that's not possible, Private".
He sighed;
"so, what is it, Lieutenant?"
"Sounds like your son's got some sort of infection in his lungs". Holly mumbled, "you know, with the mucus he's coughing up. With an everyday illness, you usually bring up all the mucus and the illness goes away…but with your son, I think the illness stays with him for some reason".
"Do you know what it is, Lieutenant?"
She shook her head;
"no". Holly mumbled, "but I'll try and find out".
Burns looked relieved;
"thank you, ma'am". He expressed, "thank you so much".
"Don't thank me yet, Burns". She warned him softly.
Holly left the lecture room and headed straight for the library.
There, she looked at all different kinds of lung infections and illnesses. Every single symptom matched Burns' son, only, he lived with that cough every day. She crossed out a lot of infections and viruses. And Holly must have gone through at least twelve books that afternoon. It didn't feel like she was getting anywhere with this mysterious illness.
Holly closed the twelfth book and sighed heavily.
A very curious and worried Winters soon approached her table;
"where have you been all afternoon?" He asked.
"Right here". Holly mumbled, "I think I've wasted six or so hours".
Frowning, he sat down next to her;
"what are you looking for?"
Shaking her head, she told him;
"I have no idea". Holly whispered, "Private Burns wants me to solve a mysterious illness his son has had since birth".
Winters frown deepened;
"really?"
"Yeah". Holly whispered again, "but this library is useless, Dick".
"Have you checked the hospital?"
"No, it's under quarantine". She mumbled, "flu outbreak".
Winters pulled a face;
"it's July".
"Yeah, it decided to show up in the summer". Holly muttered, "half the staff have it. They'll probably call for reinforcements soon".
He frowned again;
"so, what's wrong with Burns' son?"
Holly sighed;
"something to do with his lungs…he hasn't stopped coughing. He coughs up mucus and can't keep a lot of food or liquids down. It does sound deadly".
Running a hand down her face, she said;
"it's annoying…because I keep on comparing it to this dog we looked after at the clinic".
Winters tilted his head to the side;
"the dog had similar symptoms?"
She nodded;
"yeah…coughing, shortness of breath, not eating. Only, he developed the illness at a later age. But we still couldn't treat him. We tried to clear his airways, give him more to eat. But he died after a few months. It wasn't a treatable disease".
"What was it?"
"A type of pneumonia. It resulted in inflammation and scarring of the tiny air sacs of the lungs and lung tissue. The reactive scarring of the lungs resulted in fibrotic tissue build-up, that's when the tissue becomes excessively thick, reducing the ability of the affected sacs to pass oxygen into the bloodstream. So, as the disease progressed, less oxygen than normal is passed into the body's tissues when the dog breathed".
Clearing her throat, she said;
"Mr Stevenson might have been shady but he knew his stuff".
Winters smiled a little;
"seems that way". He then asked, "so, what do you think that has to do with Burns' son?"
"I think his son has thick mucus. And I think something inside of him, stops his body from absorbing food and nutrients, like how we absorb food. I don't know how, though. I mean, the pancreas is the organ which helps with digestion, but I can't figure out where that fits when he's coughing up mucus, you know?"
Winters shrugged;
"I don't know, Holly".
Sighing quietly, she picked up her pencil and placed it into her mouth, chewing down on the wood. Winters pulled a face;
"Holly, you don't know where that's been".
She shrugged;
"in my hand, mostly".
"It doesn't matter…it's filled with germs".
Snorting, Holly looked at him;
"alright, General".
Winters rolled his eyes;
"I'm sorry for looking out for my girlfriend".
Taking the pencil out from her mouth, she stared down at it.
A thoughtful frown appeared on her face;
"what if Burns' son has got pneumonia?"
Winters raised an eyebrow;
"for two years, Holly?"
Holly shook her head;
"what if he's prone to lung infections because of his mystery disease?"
Leaning forward, she then added;
"we know he has a build-up of mucus, like our dog? So, the build-up of mucus must play part in his shortness of breath, like our dog. Mucus contains lots of tiny things, like dust, dirt, pollen and germs. So, Burns' son has a lot of thick mucus going through his body, a lot which he can't always bring up. Which means he's carrying around all sorts of germs and infections. Like pneumonia, chest infections and flu. Every time he breathes in our fresh air, he runs the risk of adding more and more germs and such into his airways, which will stick to the mucus".
Holly gave Winters a nod;
"right?"
"Kind of". He said slowly, "I think I get it".
Winters then asked;
"so, what does he have?"
"It doesn't matter". Holly said, "he has to clear his lungs and wherever that bloody mucus is – it's got to get up and leave his body".
A smile lifted his face;
"that's the cure?"
Frowning a little, Holly shrugged;
"I 'dunno". She mumbled, "how is mucus made?"
Winters raised an eyebrow;
"you're asking the wrong person, honey". He said, "but you mentioned one word before".
"What?"
"When you were talking about that dog…fibrotic or something?"
"It's like a…a formation of an abnormal amount of fibrous tissues in an organ or part as a result of inflammation or scarring". She then added, "fibrosis is probably the correct term – I don't know. I get confused when Mr Stevenson rambles. You know what he's like".
"Seems like you paid attention to his rambling, Holly". Winters pointed out.
Holly picked up one of the books;
"anyway, how is mucus made? Let's find out".
Holly never got to find out how mucus was made from her books.
For she was called into the hospital before supper to help out.
Wearing a surgical mask and a pair of gloves, Holly helped with taking care of the summer flu victims. It seemed this flu was mainly focused on attacking the gut, rather than the lungs or nose. Which confused Holly to no end. In fact, she asked one of the doctors why they were naming it a flu.
"We're calling it the stomach flu". He told her, "it's just as contagious, Lieutenant".
"It's gastral, doc". She said, "not the flu".
He raised an eyebrow;
"Lieutenant, the men are extremely sick and weak".
"Yeah, they should be". She said, "they've been puking and shitting for almost two days, mate".
He sighed;
"there isn't a cure". He said, "we just have to let it run its course".
"It's a good thing you quarantined the hospital, doc". Holly said, "wouldn't be any good if this nasty virus went around every man in the camp".
"No, it wouldn't".
"Oh, I have a question, actually".
The doctor nodded for her to go on.
So, she asked him;
"what's mucus?"
"Well, it's made by cells in the membranes that run from your nose to your lungs. While you swallow most of it without knowing, what's left behind keeps your airways moist so that they work properly".
"So…if you had a build-up of thick mucus?"
He raised an eyebrow;
"then you'd clog the airways, like a plug".
"One of my men…he has a boy, he's not doing well". She said, "he's had a cough all of his life, doc. I think with all his mucus, it causes him to get infections more and perhaps, it stops some organs from working properly, like-"
"cystic fibrosis of the pancreas". The doctor cut her off, "yes…I've heard of it, Lieutenant. Dr Dorothy Anderson provided the first description of the disorder during a lecture after she discovered the disease during an autopsy. The children had died from malnutrition, as their abnormal mucus plugged up the channels which carry the enzymes produced by the pancreas to the small intestine. Without these digestive enzymes, the intestine couldn't absorb the nutrients from food".
Holly frowned;
"how do we help him?"
The doctor sighed;
"there isn't much we can do, Lieutenant".
"Isn't there something to clear the mucus?"
"Some form of physical therapy might do the trick". He said, "but it won't always help".
Nodding small, Holly grabbed the bag of saline;
"I'll give this to my patient". She mumbled.
"Bring the boy here, Lieutenant". The doctor told her, before she could leave. "I'll examine him myself".
Holly's lips twitched;
"thanks, doctor".
But then added;
"I'll bring him once this virus clears off". She told him, "I don't think his immune system could handle the outbreak".
"Good thinking". He said, with a tiny smile, "we're sure 'gonna miss you around here, Lieutenant".
…
After no sleep, Holly left the hospital the next morning and met up with Private Burns inside his barrack. All the men stood at attention when she entered their barrack that Sunday morning. And she almost felt bad for interrupting them.
"As you were, lads". She told them softly.
The men did as they were doing before.
Holly then gave Burns a nod;
"with me, mate".
Holly and Burns walked outside of the barrack, where they could talk in private. There, she explained what his son might have;
"cystic fibrosis of the pancreas. I'm not really sure what it is, Burns, but your son has an excessive amount of thick mucus, which clogs up his airways, lungs and organs, such as the pancreas. So, your pancreas is an organ which helps us absorb nutrients from the food we eat. We believe the mucus inside your son, has clogged up the channels which carry the enzymes produced by the pancreas to the small intestine. Without that support, your son's digestive system isn't working properly. Which explains why he's so underweight".
Burns processed the information for a few moments.
"So…what do we do, Lieutenant? How do we cure him?"
Sighing softly, she said;
"we can't, mate". Holly told him, "but we can help him by clearing his lungs and getting rid of as much mucus as possible. Right now, our hospital is under quarantine. But our Doctor will take your son on as his patient, once this virus clears up inside the hospital".
Sighing heavily, Burns ran a hand down his face;
"ma'am, I – we can't afford to-"
"don't worry, I'm covering it". Holly told him, "just, don't tell anyone, alright? I've set it all up. Let's just get your wee boy well".
Fighting back the tears in his eyes, Burns saluted her.
Swallowing a lump in her throat, she saluted him back.
And ended it quickly, before shaking his hand;
"you're a good dad, Burns". She told him, "that boys bloody lucky to have you. And tell me if you need anything, alright? Your wife can stay with your boy inside the hospital. For as long as she wants. I'll get her a bed and everything".
Burns choked out a laugh, which sounded more like a sob;
"thank you, Lieutenant".
She didn't respond. But smiled and gave his shoulder a clap when the handshake ended.
Leaving Burns to enjoy his Sunday, she left to find Winters for church.
Holly felt reassured, knowing that Burns' son was in good hands.