Remembering the Ghost of You

November 19th, 1944

I missed Paris the second we left it. We had to trudge through the cold, destroyed French landscape without much time for rest. We had Belgium and were moving into Germany. My group was providing backup. We didn’t even have time to help the dying civilians. I’d get caught up bandaging open wounds or treating burns and Frank or Bob would have to drag me away so that I wouldn’t get left behind.
Leaving the hospital in Paris and Esmerie was like leaving my mother all over again. Nothing had silenced the little girl or dried her tears as we prepared to leave. She clung to my leg and I ended up carrying her with me until we reached the outskirts of the city. Then I had handed her to the old nurse she was staying with. She screamed and cried even more when I let go of her. I had left her with one of the picture I had, the one of me and Mikey in our uniforms, and asked her to hold onto it for me for when I returned. She’d tucked it in her pocket before latching on to me again. I had stroked her hair and kissed her forehead, but eventually it was time for me to go.
I would have given anything to stay with her. I hadn’t realized how attached I’d gotten. Even sleeping felt different and not just because it was done in random buildings, tents, or holes in the ground. I missed her tiny body and sweet smile.
While I had marched from Paris she’d made me sing the entire way. Everyone was humming along not long after I reached the second verse.
“Come on Gee. We are moving again,” Frank said to me as I wrapped an old mans’ hands in scraps of cloth to keep them warm. I whispered a few words in French to the man and his family that watched me with large dark eyes before standing.
“I wish there was more I could do,” I said to Frank as we headed down the muddy streets. Eighty percent of this town was destroyed.
“We all do. That’s why we’re fighting this war,” he said as he lit a cigarette. We took our place in line and began the march again. We were getting closer. I could feel it and it seemed the farther we marched the more hopeless and scared the people looked.
Our troops weren’t doing great either. We were already wearing out and running low on supplies. We’d only heard how bad things were closer to Germany. We heard it was just endless gunfire and bombs.
As we marched I once again found myself praying that if God took someone he take me. I knew it wasn’t fair to Esmerie, but she was young and I was sure Frank would look after her if it were absolutely necessary. I just knew I couldn’t watch or even know that another friend, brother really, was dead.
“I can’t wait to see Ray again,” Bob said to my left. I’d almost forgotten about Ray. When he left I’d put him out of my mind to keep from constantly worrying.
“Do you know he’s alive?” I asked.
“Last I heard he was holed up in an underground facility in Brussels,” he told me. I sighed with relief, but didn’t care to know how old this information was. We were headed for Brussels and told it was only a few more days away. It wasn’t the front line again, yet, but it wasn’t the safest place. The Germans wanted Belgium back and since Brussels was the capitol it was a major target to say the least.
“I can’t wait to stop eating hardtack,” Frank said referring to our poor excuse for bread. At least there had been slightly edible food in Paris. Now we were sucking on rocks basically.
“I can’t wait to go home,” I said somberly.
“Yeah we know Gerard,” Bob laughed and I sighed. Frank slung his arm around my shoulders.
“Don’t worry, I know you’ll be the one to at least make it home,” he told me and I forced a smile. As it was I had to return to a home without my little brother. I couldn’t bring myself to tell Frank or Bob that I couldn’t stand the thought of returning to a home without them and Ray as well.