Quill Pen Scratchings

Chapter 19

Edmund watched the train until it was out of sight and all the people were gone from the platform, and only then turned and walked back alone through the streets of empty, bombed-out buildings.  He rounded the corner and could see the café again, and his breath caught in his throat.  He felt the weight of the key against his chest. 

He walked up and stood next to his car that was still sitting next to the side door of the café and stared through the curtains that hung over the door’s window, but he couldn’t see inside.  He looked at the wood pile in the back yard where he had gone out in his thin nightshirt just a few hours ago to bring wood in to build the fire in the stove.  And then he looked at the water pump that he had used to get water for their baths last night.  Smoke still rose languidly from the chimney of the kitchen stove from the fire he had built earlier, and for a moment it gave the impression that the house was still alive, and that at any moment, Clemence would open the door and welcome him home.

But soon the fire would go out, and the rest of the building would crumble and fall into ruin and dust, as if it, and they, never existed at all. 

He turned and got into the car, and then drove away quietly and slowly, so as not to disturb this tomb, this memorial to their lives.  Once he was out of sight of the café, he shoved down roughly on the accelerator and sped through the country back to Behonne.

As he approached the camp, he wasn’t sure what he would find.  He had been gone with the car for a day and a half.  They were probably looking for him, but he didn’t care and he didn’t feel like trying to make up any excuses.  He slowed down as he approached the camp. A sentry stood at the gate, and as Edmund drove slowly by, he could see that it was the same man who had tried to stop him from taking the car.  The side of his face was purple and black from where Tino had hit him.  The man didn’t look at Edmund, but merely saluted.   Edmund drove the car back over to the administration building and left it there and walked over to his tent.  Several men saluted him and patted him on the back as he walked, and he was quite puzzled by the time he got to his tent. 

As he climbed through the flap, he saw that Tino’s side of the tent was empty.  All his personal items were gone, and his trunk was open and empty.  Two large duffel bags sat on the floor near his bunk.

Edmund warmed his hands by the paraffin oil stove for a moment and then walked over to the canteen.  He could hear several men talking loudly as he approached the door.  He stepped inside, and could see Tino talking, surrounded by a dozen men at a far table.  As he stood there, several of the men looked up and were staring at him.  Finally, Tino turned and then said loudly, “And there is the man himself!” and the men around him stood and cheered and applauded Edmund.

At his bewildered look, Tino got up and hobbled over to Edmund.  “You didn’t think  shooting down a German ace went unnoticed, did you?  Everybody saw it!  There he was, flying straight at you, guns blazing, Baron Von Shit-Hoffen with six kills to his name, and you stood there and fired straight back at him, wood and lead exploding all around you.  A lot of our pilots were afraid of what he would do once he got one of those new Fokkers, and you took him down!”

Edmund looked at Tino, still bewildered and said, “But he got away.  He didn’t go down.”

“No no, my friend!  Marcel here,” Tino pointed to a man sitting at the table, who smiled broadly and waved sheepishly at Edmund, “was in the spotter’s tower saw him go down just over the tree line.  We walked out yesterday and found the shiny new Fokker crashed in a heap in the woods, and the pilot’s body smashed to a million pieces!  It’ll be the Croix de Guerre for you!  Go to Paris with that on your chest, along with your American accent, and there will be piles of naked and willing women just waiting for you!”

Edmund finally smiled and someone put a tin cup of champagne into his hand.  The men brought him his lunch and sat around talking about the upcoming move of the camp. 

After lunch, Edmund and Tino walked back to their tent together.  Edmund said, “I was actually a little worried about the car being missing for two days.  I wasn’t sure what was going to happen after I got back here.”

“Oh, never mind about that.  That sentry was the only one who saw you take it, and I know a few things about him that he doesn’t necessarily want talked about.  He won’t say a word.”

“Thanks for that.”

“And besides, you are the hero of the hour!”

“Yeah, why is that?  I mean, the pilots do this every day.”

“Yes, but you see,” Tino poked Edmund in the arm as he said this, “you are one of them…of us. And you shot down a German noble.  And someone whom even the pilots really feared.”

Edmund nodded and they walked in silence for a moment.  Edmund walked slower than normal to allow Tino to limp along beside him. 

“What about Knox?”

“He is being buried tomorrow beside Rockwell.  Going to be a much smaller affair though.  From what I hear, Bar le Duc doesn’t really exist anymore.”

“It was hit pretty hard, but it’s still there.”

“Well they want to get it done fast so they can get on with the move.”

“Oh yes, I heard the men talking about that.  Who is moving?”

Tino looked at Edmund in surprise.  “You didn’t hear?  Oh yes, I forgot you have been naked between the sheets for two days.”  Edmund laughed slightly as Tino said this.  “No, they decided that, rather than rebuild here, they are going to move the whole squadron back to Luxeuil where they started off.  Little further away from the heat.”

“You going with them?”

Tino inhaled deeply and looked up and to the side, “No, my time here is done.  Hell, I only took this job to stay out of the trenches, and now,” he patted his hip, “I have a free ticket out of military service.  And when I tell the story,” he patted Edmund on the back, “I’m the one who saved you.”

Edmund laughed again.  “You sure they won’t try and put you back in uniform? I mean, you can stop a bullet as well as the next man. You’ve even proved it already.”

“Well, I thought about that too, so I think I’m going back to Italy, at least until this thing is over.  I will just limp a lot.  And what are you going to do?”

“Well, with Knox gone, I suppose I don’t have a job anymore.”

“Oh, no, we lost a lot of men on the ground.  Anyone would be happy to have a man like you on their crew.”

“I might have to go back to America to take care of my mother.  But if I do that, I will probably wind up right back here in an American uniform.”

“Well, if that is what you are looking for, there is always the Legion.”

“No, I’m not looking for that at all.  Two dead Germans is my quota.”

They walked into their tent, and Tino sat down with a grunt on the chair.  “How is your woman?  Madam Dumond?”

“Gone.  Put her on a train to Marseille this morning.  The café is gone.”

“So you are a free man!”

Edmund was silent for a moment.  “I don’t really want to be free though.”

“Ahh.  Lovesick and lonely.  Well, take my advice and when you get that medal, take it to Paris. You won’t have any time to be lonely there.”

“Am I really getting a medal?”

“Thénault put in the paperwork for it yesterday.”  They were both silent for a moment then Tino stood up resolutely, grunting a bit as he did so.  “Well my friend, it is time for me to go.  I am taking a truck into town, and from there a train to Paris and then to Italy.  I arranged for a couple of days for myself in Paris to lie to a few women about my exploits in the war.”  He leaned down and picked up the two bags and with a lot of effort slung them over his shoulder.

Edmund jumped to his feet.  “Let me carry those for you.”

“No, no, I have them.  You stay and relax.  You probably need some sleep to make up for the last two days, eh?” Tino said, winking at Edmund.  Edmund smiled.  Tino to the end.

Tino stepped over and embraced Edmund tightly and then stepped back and clapped him firmly on both arms.  “I owe every moment from the day I was shot to you.  A man doesn’t forget such things.”  Tino said looking squarely at Edmund.

“You take care of yourself.” Edmund said.

Tino smiled and nodded at Edmund.  Then he let go of Edmund’s arms and walked slowly out of the tent, not looking back.

Edmund sat down on his bunk and looked around the tent that had been his home for the last eight months.  He had never really paid attention to it, but now he felt he would miss it.  Tino was right in a way.  He was free.  Everything that had been planned for him was done, and everyone who had planned it was gone.  He knew he had people that he loved, and who loved him, and people who needed him, but he was free to choose his course. 

Edmund opened the trunk at the foot of his bed and grabbed the duffel bag from under his bunk.  He began to pack the things from his trunk into the bag.  There were several things that he had brought with him from America that had seemed so important to him at the time, but that he had never taken out of the trunk. He left those things behind. He paused for a moment when he found Penny’s picture and the bundle of letters.  He ran his hand across her face, but the old pangs of guilt did not come.  He still felt responsible for her death and very sorry that she had died so young, but more than anything he was grateful to her for the time they had spent together.  He vowed to her that he would be responsible for the people he loved.  Clemence.  His mother.  Madam Morel. They were his to take care of now.  He opened the door of the paraffin oil burner and put the bundle of letters and ribbon and Penny’s photograph in there and watched as they blackened and curled and burned away to ash.  He said goodbye to her for the last time.

He finished putting the rest of his things into the bag and closed it up.  He sat at the table and took out two sheets of paper and an ink pen.  He wrote a letter to his mother, telling her about the things that had happened and that he missed his father, and how sorry he was for her.  He told her that he understood why they had sent him to France, and how thankful he was that they had loved him so much that they had to let him go.  He told her about Clemence and that he didn’t know when he would be able to get back to America, but that he would come back.  Finally, he told her how much he loved her.  He folded the letter and would mail it to her from the administration office before he left.  He wrote another letter resigning from the Escadrille.  He signed this letter and then slung his duffel bag over his shoulder.  He reached over and turned off the paraffin oil burner and picked up the two letters.  He turned around when he got to the tent flap to see if he had left anything behind.  Then he turned and walked down the steps to the administration building.  When he got there, he handed the clerk his resignation, and dashed off a quick note to Lloyd, then put that and his mother’s letter in an envelope and addressed it to Lloyd in Annapolis.  The clerk gave him his last pay, and Edmund added it to the sizeable bundle of money in his pocket.  He had never really had many opportunities to spend money while he was there, so he had saved almost all of the money he had earned.  The clerk looked down at some paperwork that lay on his desk.  He told Edmund that he had a commendation coming, so Edmund left Clemence’s address in Marseille and his home address in Annapolis. 

He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out the door, through the gate, nodding at the wounded sentry as he passed, and then walked for the last time to Bar le Duc.