...
He tried his best to make Nora feel as comfortable as possible. Winters gave her plenty of space and privacy. And when Lieutenant Harry Welsh entered the room, he too gave Nora the privacy a young girl required. Welsh seemed like a nice enough man. Like Nixon, he liked alcohol and talking. Nora preferred listening to talking. And she really appreciated the privacy the men gave her. Nora took her time dressing into her nightclothes after supper, just for a moment of peace and quiet. Once dressed, she brushed her teeth and used the toilet before appearing back into the shared room with Winters and Welsh. Both Lieutenants were still awake. Welsh was sat on his bed and writing a letter, while Winters sat at the desk, looking over a field manual. Nora just stood by the door for a few more seconds before eventually crossing the quiet room toward her bed…
"Good. You're getting an early night". Winters had looked away from the manual to stare at Nora. He smiled. "I'll bet you'll be tired after travelling".
"Yes, sir". After kicking off her boots, Nora pulled back the blanket and then got into bed. She lay on her side, facing the wall. Welsh had turned the main light off, leaving only a couple of lamps to light the room. The lamps cast a warm orange glow in the room, creating a comforting feeling.
The desk was close to the end of Nora's bed, meaning Winters could see her facing the wall and failing to keep her eyes closed. He swirled around on the wooden chair, so he was sitting on the left side of the chair to fully face Nora. Winters checked the time on his wristwatch; it was only 2100 hours, still early. Whenever Nora's eyes opened, she looked to be in deep concentration. Winters wished he could read minds because he was sure Nora wouldn't share anything with him. It was clear her head was busy and keeping her from sleep. So, Winters decided to turn on the radio, hoping some background noise would keep Nora's head distracted. The volume was kept low while Glenn Miller's Moonlight Serenade helped Nora drift off to sleep…
…But four hours later, Nora woke up. The radio was off, and the room was dark. The lamps no longer cast a comforting glow and Glenn Miller wasn't helping her sleep now. Winters and Welsh were both sound asleep, Nora could hear their deep and peaceful breaths. The fitted bed sheet and her blanket were soaked. Nora hoped it was sweat, but it was never just sweat. With her nightclothes wet too, she had no other choice but to get up and sort it all out. Working as quietly as possible, Nora pulled the sheet off her bedding and rolled it up inside the wet blanket. Feet tiptoeing to the door, Nora carefully opened the door and stepped out into the dark corridor.
Distressing dreams caused a lot of nighttime issues with Nora. She remembered having the same problems as a small child, but the problems seemed to resurface when faced with trauma again. When it happened as a child, Nora knew where to go and what to do. But now, she didn't know where anything was. With her wet sheet and blanket in her arms, Nora stood in the dark corridor in soaking nightclothes – completely clueless and helpless. She felt fat tears form in the corner of her eyes. Training with the Brits became complicated during the night as well, but at least things were easier to find in a smaller place. Nora had managed to keep it secret. However, it was different in the schoolhouse…
Using the wall as a guide, Nora managed to locate the stairs. With her bare feet gently padding against the carpeted stairs, she made it to the bottom and reached the ground floor. Crossing the wooden floor, Nora soon came to a standstill. Now what? She didn't know where to go to find the things she was looking for. Nora needed a new sheet and blanket. And if it was possible clean nightclothes. She knew where the dining hall was, Nora could locate a few of the offices and she was familiar with the location of all the bathrooms and bedrooms, but she didn't know where the sheets and blankets were kept. Nora was sure they had a storage cupboard somewhere…
Grabbing an oil lamp from the table near the bottom of the staircase, Nora began to venture into rooms and open doors she hadn't opened before. It reminded her of a book she had once read as a child, where a little boy walked around a haunted mansion by himself to find his lost teddy. Of course, Nora didn't believe in ghosts, and she wasn't exactly frightened of the dark schoolhouse. But then again…Nora held up the oil lamp toward the painting of Churchill…she was either going mad or Churchill's eyes were following her. Lowering the oil lamps' gentle glow from the Prime Minister, Nora sought forward. The little boy searching for his teddy wasn't the only scary tale Nora had heard as a child. She had heard of cursed paintings, malevolent ghosts, and demons possessing the living. But now wasn't the best time to think of all the frightening tales Nora had heard over the years. Besides, she had lived in a horror story of her own for many years.
Relief came like a warm embrace when Nora finally located the storage cupboard near the kitchen. It was right next to the boiler, where dry towels were also kept. Grabbing what she needed, Nora wasted no more time wondering around the schoolhouse, she headed straight for the staircase again and continued her journey back to the room. With no luck in finding clean nightclothes, Nora settled for her physical training gear, blue shorts and a white t-shirt. She changed her bed quietly and then slipped into new clothes before getting back into bed. Nora's nighttime adventure had come to an end, and she hadn't woken up Winters or Welsh, or any other Officer inside the schoolhouse.
…
At 0730 hours, Winters had no choice but to wake Nora up. Breakfast would be served soon, and the girl couldn't afford to miss a meal. Thankfully, Nora was very easy to wake up and she didn't put up a fuss. While pulling back the blanket, Winters noticed Nora was wearing her PT uniform and he was certain she had gone to sleep wearing nightclothes. But Winters never questioned her about the sudden change of clothes. They were running late. After brushing her teeth, they both headed downstairs for breakfast. Inside the dining hall, Nixon had saved them a table and three seats – Welsh was joining them.
"Nix, nice to see you up". Winters said with a slight smirk. "Have you slept?"
"I passed out at eleven". Nixon said, "I went for drinks with George and Moose and got back early".
Welsh smirked. "Did you get into a fight?"
"Harry…". Nixon said smoothly. "When have you ever known me to get into a fight?"
"Well, it's not that you get into fights…it's that people usually punch you in the face because you annoy them". Welsh snorted out a tiny laugh. "Honestly, Lew…the Brits can tolerate anything, but they can't handle your bullshit".
Nixon chuckled at Welsh's remark while pouring coffee into mugs. "Nora? You want some coffee?" He offered.
"No thank you, sir". Nora declined. She asked, "Is there water? Or apple juice?"
Winters gave a nod toward the long table behind them. "There's orange juice over there, Nora. Help yourself to that".
"Thank you, sir".
When Nora left, Nixon leaned forward. "How'd she do last night?" He mostly asked Winters quietly.
"To my knowledge, she slept". Winters said. And he decided to add, "But woke up wearing her PT gear".
Welsh pulled a confused face. "She did?"
Nixon shrugged. "No big deal…it's probably nothing, Dick". He asked, "What are we 'gonna do with her today?"
"I doubt she'll attend service with me this morning…". Winters said through a quiet sigh. "Nix, do you think she can stay with you until I get back?"
Nixon didn't seem bothered. "Yeah, sure".
"Give her something to do". Winters made a suggestion. "How about you go over one of the field manuals with her?"
Nixon snorted. "You're kidding, right?"
"No". Winters said, "I'm perfectly serious. Nora has a lot to learn, Nix".
"It's Sunday…". Nixon stressed. "You want me to give her homework on God's Day off?"
"Don't bring God into your distaste for learning, Nix". Winters warned him.
With an amused smile, Nixon held up his hands in surrender. "Don't tell on me, man".
Winters chuckled quietly and gave his head a shake. "Just…do it, alright?"
"Yeah, fine". Nixon reluctantly agreed. "The kids 'gonna hate me".
After breakfast, Nixon kept his word and had Nora set up a little study area in her bedroom. At the desk, she had a few sheets of paper, a pencil, and a stack of Winters's field manuals to study over under Nixon's 'watchful' eye. Nora didn't mind, in fact, she appreciated the distraction. She was finding the morning straining after last night's adventure. Picking up the first manual from the stack, Nora read the title page, 'survival'. Placing the manual down, she opened it up. Nixon peered over her shoulder and gave a nod of approval.
"Good. That's an easy one to start with". He said, "Just…take some notes and shit. You know how to study, right?" Nixon sat on the edge of Nora's bed and brought out a cigarette.
"Yes, sir". Nora confirmed. However, it had been a while since she had last studied for anything.
"Excellent. Great". Nixon puffed on his cigarette. Eventually, he brought out a letter from his front pocket to read over while Nora studied the manual. It was from his wife, Kathy. The couple had been arguing over their dog for months now. And their child. Nixon hadn't seen his child for well over a year. Or the dog…
Nora read over the first few pages of the manual. It was all basic and things she had gone over while training with the Brits. It covered how to fortify a foxhole, how to ration food, how to use pills to keep water clean, how to dry socks, how to identify enemy traps and mines… It was all very useful. Nora took notes when needed and added a couple of points she had learned since the outbreak of war. Nora had learned a lot of her own survival skills, and her hand did more writing than her eyes did reading. At the sound of her scribbling on paper, Nixon looked up from his letter and looked over at the girl. Rising to his feet, he peered over Nora's shoulder to take a look…
"What in the…". Nixon mumbled while staring at what she had written. "It doesn't mention that in the field manual".
"What, sir?" Nora stopped writing to ask.
There was a lot that wasn't mentioned in the field manual, but Nixon decided to bring up one sentence that stuck out most to him. "Use the clothing of the dead to keep warm…". He rubbed the stubble on his chin and asked Nora, "It doesn't mention that, does it?"
"No, sir". Nora explained. "It's my own, sir".
Nixon cast Nora a frown before staring down her at notes again. He said, "Fill sock with grass or sand and use it to drain dirty water". But Nixon appeared impressed by that note once he read it out loud. "Actually, that's a good idea".
"Thank you, sir…".
Nixon soon moved on to the next point and his eyebrow raised. "Use urine to keep hands warm – kid, are you nuts?" He huffed out a faint laugh. "I get it, alright? We're 'gonna be in extreme and potentially dangerous situations…but I hope to God we don't have to start pissing on our hands to keep warm".
"Sir…". Nora interjected. "You cannot hold a weapon with numb hands, sir".
"Right…". Nixon said through a long sigh. "Jesus. That's depressing". He read the next one, "Bury the dead. You will attract rats if left unburied". Nixon noticed something mentioned in brackets, and he almost laughed. "Or you could eat the rats". He asked Nora, "Have you ever eaten a rat?"
Nora said, "You should only eat a rat if you can cook it, sir".
Nixon pointed out, "You didn't answer my question". The amusement left his features. It was no longer amusing to Nixon because if Nora had eaten a rat, then she hadn't been in a very good position. Crouched by the chair, Nixon placed his finger atop Nora's notes. "These are good, kid. Disturbing. But good". He said, "You 'wanna tell me where you learned all that?"
Nora ignored his question and said, "I can tell you more about how to survive, sir".
"It would be useful for the men to know…some of your notes". Nixon said to her carefully. He didn't want to disrespect Nora. But a lot of what she had written, the men might never need to know. "Could I share them with Dick or Harry?"
Nora gave a nod. "That would be fine, sir".
Nixon said, "They can include them in their next lecture". He kept his voice light when asking Nora, "How does a rat taste?"
She gave a faint shrug. "Everything bad tastes like chicken, sir".
"Crazy that, huh?" Nixon smiled. "I've heard people say frog's legs taste like chicken". He said, "I don't think they do. I think they just taste like frogs".
Nora felt her lips twitch with amusement at his comment. Placing down the pencil, she turned her head to look at the Lieutenant. Because Nixon was crouched by the chair, his face was a lot closer than Nora had expected. She leaned back a little. "You've tasted frogs' legs, sir?"
"I have". Nixon confirmed. "I travelled around Europe and went to France".
Nora said, "That's disturbing, sir". She was joking but her voice didn't sound humorous. Still, it made Nixon snort out a faint laugh.
"Says the girl who ate a damn rat…". Nixon checked his wristwatch. They had still another forty minutes before the church service ended. He asked Nora, "How about a break?"
Nora gave a small nod. "Okay, sir".
They left the schoolhouse and opted for a small treat at the bakery, which was still open. It closed at midday on a Sunday, much like every other business in Aldbourne. Except for the pubs, of course, they always seemed to be open. Entering the bakery, a bell gave a chime as the door opened. The owner cast the two Lieutenant's a smile and offered them a pot of tea while they read through a list of goodies for sale on a sheet of paper…
"I'll just have coffee". Nixon decided. "But you pick whatever you want, Nora".
And Nora did just that. She picked an iced bun. "You travelled around Europe…did you go to the Netherlands, sir?"
Nixon replied, "I did". He said, "I went to Amsterdam. It was probably my favourite city".
Nora leaned back against the wooden chair. Turning her head to the side, she looked out of the window and spotted a few Paratroopers walking by. Amsterdam was an incredible city. With its houses by the canal, bridges, and plenty to do at night. Nora considered herself extremely lucky, to have grown up in a progressive city. But Amsterdam was no longer a progressive city, it was stuck in the past again because of the Nazis. And it seemed Nixon shared similar thoughts with Nora…
"It's a damn shame what the Nazis have done". He said, "I really admired Amsterdam and its people. Very liberal, you know? It's like a shove it in your face to all those old bastard politicians who still live in the dark ages".
A tiny smile met Nora's lips. She promised Nixon, "We still do that, sir…but a lot of us don't survive the fight we put up".
"I've heard about the underground and resistance movements". Nixon asked, "Were you a part of them?"
Nora didn't answer right away. It was a tricky question to answer for Nora but a massive part of her still feared the safety of those people – even in front of an American, an ally. Before Nora could open her mouth, the bakery's owner placed down one cup of coffee and an iced bun…
"Enjoy". She told the two Officers before scurrying off.
"That looks good". Nixon gave a nod toward the iced bun. "Pink icing, huh? Nice touch".
"Yes, sir". Nora tore her bun in half. Grabbing one half, she began to eat it. It tasted just as good as the iced buns she had back with the British Army, if not better. Nora really didn't mind British food, especially their baked goods. "You want the other half, sir?"
"No, I'm good, kid". Nixon said, "Just enjoy it, huh? And be thankful it ain't a rat".
Nora checked his face to see if the man was joking. Nixon wore a smirk. He was joking. Nora smiled small and nodded. "Very thankful, sir".
Nixon poured what was inside his flask, into the coffee. He said, "Don't judge me for Irish'in this coffee up".
"I won't, sir". Nora promised him, and she never asked what 'Irish'in up' meant but she had a feeling it had to do with alcohol. Because Nora had only even known alcohol to be stored in a flask like Nixon's. Nora couldn't judge anyone who decided to drink during the day, life could be extremely hard to deal with and people needed ways to cope with it all. Nora could relate to any soul that struggled.
After a moment of silence, Nixon told Nora, "I think you'll do well here, kid. And Dick's 'gonna take good care of you. But…try not to be so wooden, huh? We like to goof off from time to time. And we like hearing stories about home". He said, "This is as good as it's 'gonna get before we head into combat. Enjoy yourself".
It was good advice. If only Nora was open to sharing. But to keep the man content, Nora gave a small smile and nod. "Thank you, sir. I will".