Dave's world was spinning. A memory here. A dream there. Voices, sounds, laughter, yelling. Blackness, red, sunlight, an explosion, fire, the sea, the sound of the surf. His grandmother's hands. His life. All was in turmoil as he struggled to breathe, struggled away from the heat.
Luka relaxed on his cot, thankful to be in a warm tent when it was so cold outside. He looked over at the form of Dave. Jing-Mei was using a wet cloth in an attempt to cool his fever. She had taken off his uniform jacket and shirt to aid in the cooling process and now pondered possibilities. It was true that the young Italian had received a nasty blow to the head, but that didn't compensate for the fever, not as high as his was, at least. It must have been something in the water he drank… Whatever it was, he was now delirious and she desperately hoped to cool his body temperature.
It was hard to surprise her these days. She had seen so many horrible things since she left home. She looked to his chest as his ribcage expanded to compensate for inflated lungs. His body was toned and yet there was hardly an ounce of fat on him. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him and wonder when he last ate. A while ago, from the looks of it. Malnutrition coupled with infection was a potent killer on the battlefield.
She rung out the cloth and dried her hands on her skirt. It was time to wake Abigail to care for the two prisoners. Jing-Mei needed to sleep. As she folded back the flap a voice came from behind.
"Thank you."
She turned and gave Luka a weak smile before exiting. She passed a small group of soldiers gathered around a fire listening attentively to the radio as she made her way to Abigail's tent.
"After taking the beaches of Normandy by storm, the Americans have by far proven their will to win this war and will be rewarded in the very near future as reports of Hitler's whereabouts become-" the man's voice disappeared as the radio hissed and crackled.
"Become what?!" Peter Benton smacked the radio's side as John tried to adjust the tuner. After about a minute Frank Sinatra's voice came on. "Saturday night is the loneliest night of the week…" he sounded distant.
"Damn! We missed it! Damn radio, ain't worth two cents of beans!"
"What?" John openly laughed.
"You heard me! Damn piece of junk…"
John looked up as he saw Abby heading toward one of the medical tents. After she disappeared inside he looked thoughtful.
"Did you hear about Mark Greene?"
"Yeah," Benton sighed. Mark was a good man, a friend to all of them.
"It's too bad."
"You know what?" Peter looked serious.
"Hm?"
"I know I should be feeling bad about hi, but instead I just feel relieved that it wasn't me who took that bullet. What kind of thing does that to a man, John? Makes a man feel grateful that his best buddy just got his head blown off and not his?"
'War, Peter. War does that to a man."
The two sat in silence.
Another day passed without much activity or news and Luka rested in the infirmary. He knew he would have to go back to the enclosure soon, but didn't want to. It was warm, although dimly lit, and nurses brought him food. His only regrets were that his comrades were still out there in the cold of southern Germany.
He watched his friend toss and turn in the depths of fever in the cot beside him.
"Poor kid." He saw the nurse called Carol standing in the doorway. She stepped forward. "Whatever he's got he's got it bad." She smiled as she remembered someone. "You know, he reminds me of my kid brother. He's back at home- at least he was last I hear d from my family. Damn draft, I hope it doesn't get him."
Luka cleared his throat. "My brother was also in the army."
"Yeah?"
"He, um, he was a scholar. I wanted so much to be him. He took me to Germany with him to hear Hitler speak. He wanted to help me hear of all of the ideas in the world. But Hitler affected him. He had been to Germany many times for my family in well off, but this time, this time he seemed to fall into a trance. And I saw him salute Hitler, just like the other boys. That was when I realized he was changing. He joined Hitler's army. Afraid of what he'd think if I left for home I joined also. I tried to believe. There were good things to believe in. But after time the bad things outnumbered the good. When Jeremy died, I couldn't believe anymore. For a time I lost my sense of morality. Now… now I am stuck in this mess…"
Carol was quiet. "That's a very sad story, Luka. I'm sorry. But don't you see that what Hitler is doing is wrong? He may claim to have good intentions, but killing thousands of people just because they're Jewish-"
"What do you mean?"
"Luka, I'm talking about the concentration camps. Some men from this outpost have even seen them."
"My God…" Luka looked shocked. "He actually did it…"
"You didn't know?"
"There was talk, but no one believed it was possible to even try such a thing. I never believed he would…" his voice trailed off.
"Well," she took a deep breath. "Now you do."
When he looked at her his eyes reflected pain. She cleared her throat and looked away, unable to take his gaze. "As much as I'd like to stay here and chat with you about the horrors of war, I've gotta' wake up Chen for her shift." She turned and left, keeping her compassion at bay for who she knew to be the enemy, as human as he seemed.
Luka looked down, feeling a small stab of pain in his heart and trying to deal with the facts of their reality. Dear Lord. It now seemed as though the whole world was chaos and killing. Death surrounded him and for a moment he felt as though he would choke in the darkness that engulfed him. My God, Hitler actually did it… he now knew that the world could only return to a shadow of what it once was. Little did he know of the equally horrific news that would await the world in the near future after a successful test in New Mexico. His shock and regret, pain, sorrow and feelings of worthlessness were interrupted when Hathaway reentered with Chen.
They began discussing inventory when Dave yelped and bolted up. Both nurses jumped and Hathaway quickly made her way over to the panting, fever-stricken young man. "Whoa there big boy, not so fast now."
He looked at her strange face with apprehension and confused fear. He snapped his head to the left as he heard Jing-Mei approach. She froze in her tracks and held up her hands. "It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."
His eyes rapidly searched the room until he found Luka.
"Luka," his voice was husky and weak.
"It's all right," Luka spoke soothingly in Italian. " They're here to help. You're safe."
He looked back to the nurses. His adrenaline dissipating, he no longer had the strength to hold himself up and slowly relaxed back onto the cot.
"That' better," Carol chuckled as she reached for an oil lamp to light. He was till covered in sweat, pale, and obviously didn't even have the strength to sit up.
Carol handed the lit lamp to Jing-Mei. "My shifts up, you take care of the little weasel." Chen threw her a fake smile and stepped closer to Dave. He was breathing quickly and obviously having trouble keeping track of his world.
"My name is Jing-Mei." He looked up at her face, startled at hearing her speak his native tongue. She smiled warmly; his expression was priceless. Luka was also surprised. "I grew up in Southern California," she explained to the two men. "I learned Spanish I school. Spanish and Italian are extremely similar. My best friend was Italian-American. She helped me learn the differences. We planned to go to Italy together someday." Luka couldn't help but smile in amazement. She caught his expression. "Trust me, after growing up speaking both Mandarin and English Italian is easy," she laughed.
Dave was able to focus more and wore a lopsided grin. "My name is David," he said.
Jing-Mei grabbed his limp hand. "It's nice to meet you, David."
"It's nice to meet you, too…"
"Jing-Mei."
"Xiang-Mai?"
"No, Jing-Mei…" it took him a few more comical tries before he could say her name with the proper accent.
Later on in the evening Luka had fallen asleep and after a restful nap Dave had awoken again. Jing-Mei smiled at him, catching herself being pulled to his emotion-filled gaze once more. She looked back to her writing. Dave was content to peacefully watch her wrist glide across the paper. His fever had dropped and he was much more comfortable.
When she was finished she looked up from the table and smiled at him again. "Do you want to see?"
He nodded. She held up the unlined paper on which she had written in Chinese characters. Dave laughed. "You can read this?"
"Of course," she looked at the paper thoughtfully. "It's to my parents. They're worried sick about me. They say the battlefield is no place for a woman- nurse or not. I think my mother just doesn't like the idea of me being surrounded by so many men," she laughed.
Dave smirked and looked at the characters, wondering how one could learn to read such a thing. She was obviously fluent in Mandarin, yet despite their differences she spoke Italian very well.
"What do you think?"
Their brown eyes found each other. He though for a minute before speaking. "I think that a woman's place is where her heart is most happy, whether she is surrounded by men or not," he laughed as much as he could in his weak state. Her laughter joined his, but after a moment she cleared her throat. "David. Why are you in this war? You can't possibly believe in what Hitler says."
Dave furrowed his brow. "What does Hitler say? I have never met him."
Jing-Mei looked incredulous but it was apparent that Dave wasn't joking. How could it be possible that both of the enemy soldiers she'd met weren't fighting for what she'd been taught they should? "Never mind, then. Hitler is a bad man." She didn't feel comfortable explaining to him what he, the enemy, was fighting a war for.
'Well then, if you see him, you should tell him your mind." She now saw a twinkle in his eyes.
All right, I will," she giggled. "Why are you fighting, David?"
His expression turned grave. "I only fight because I have no choice. I fight to stay alive. All boys in my village are soldiers."
"Are there many like that? Who fight only because they have to?"
"Yes."
She cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. I never knew…"
"Why are you here?" Dave changed the subject, not wanting to see her uncomfortable like this.
"That's a good question…" she looked at a lit oil lamp as she spoke. "To make my parents angry, partially."
"Why would you want that?"
She looked back to him. "My family is from Northern China- from Manchuria. They moved here when the Japanese became aggressive there. They knew bad times were coming and wanted a better life for themselves and their child. It's very hard to grow up in America and fit in while at the same time trying to please your traditional Chinese parents. I was never very good at it, at least. I always knew I wanted to study medicine, and when the Japanese attacked Pearl Harbor my world changed. Sometimes I'd be walking down the street and somebody would call me a 'dirty Jap' and tell me to go home even though I am Chinese. They don't know and don't care. I was sick of it. I joined up as a nurse to prove myself to my country. My parents never let me have as much freedom as I have now…"
"Well," Dave spoke after a moment of listening. "I think that you are a good nurse. You helped me."
She smiled at him sadly. "Yes. I helped you."
"When the war is over will you go home?"
"The war here will be over soon-" Dave's heart filled with joy. That would mean he could go home soon… "-but America's war will not. Many of my friends are fighting the Japanese in the Pacific. I fear that battle will last much longer that that here in Europe. The Japanese are a proud people, a powerful people, and will not give up easily." She looked down at her hands.
Dave caught himself staring at her. He didn't know why he was so drawn to her. To him, her beauty was that of a rare find and he could never drink enough of it. "Thank you for helping me."
She smiled at him. Her smile faded when she though of something. "David, do you remember how you were hit in the head?"
He though for a moment, disturbed by the memories that surfaced. "An American hit me… I was going to shoot someone and they surrounded me. I couldn't understand what they said, but one of them hit me many times."
She looked from his split lip to the dark bruises on his chest. As she noticed the dark bruising she couldn't help but notice how beautiful the natural color of his skin was. Catching herself doing this she quickly pulled her gaze away and stood, straightening her skirt. "Well, you must be exhausted. I'll let you get some rest," she walked out before he could respond. Dave watched her go. Even the way she walked seemed special.
Jing-Mei strode as fast as she could to Romano's tent. "Colonel Romano!"
He jumped from his chair. Rage hung in the air around her. "I just thought you might like to know that I have evidence that will get you discharged immediately."
He tried to remain calm. "Evidence of what, Ms. Chen?"
"That Italian soldier just told me that you were the one who beat him. All I need is a testimony from one of our witnessing soldiers and-"
'You speak Italian now, do you?"
She ignored his question. "Sir, you've been sited on three separate occasions and received many warnings. If you're not careful I'll-"
"You look so flustered, Jing-Mei. If I didn't know better I'd say you've taken a liking to that Italian prisoner, seeing as how close you two have been…"
She tried to keep her anger at bay. Damn, he knew how to provoke people. "Sir, I am a nurse and was just doing my job to heal-"
"Good! Then as soon as either one of those soldiers is well enough they're back in the enclosure."
"Very well, but don't think that I won't take this matter to the general-"
"Oh, come on now, Jing-Mei. You're a smart girl. The general and I are pals. We go way back. And do you honestly think that I'm going to let some chink ruin my military career? Then think again, Ms. Chen," his tone was venom.
She swallowed hard.
"Now why don't you just go back to your duties, before I get impatient with you. As I said before, the battlefield is no place for a woman. Bad things can happen." His gaze was sinister.
"Yes, Sir," she forced out through grit teeth. She turned and marched out.
As she hurried away from Romano's tent John caught her expression. "Ms. Chen, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," she choked out before running to her small tent and flinging herself onto her cot, sobbing. Romano's words had cut to her heart. She hated that man, right now, more than anything in the world.
A/N: Hey guys! You are too good! I've had this story mapped out in my head and planned to make it a "Jinucci" all along and you figured me out! LOL. You're the coolest. Be sure to tell me what you think, like you darlings always have. I absolutely adore your comments!
Don't forget to watch the epic miniseries Band of Brothers on HBO, premiering Sunday, Sept. 9 at 9pm. It's about the men on Easy Company (WWII, of course!) and made by Steven Speilberg and Tom Hanks, the wonderful dreamers who brought us Saving Private Ryan. Man…I sound like a solicitor…
