Remembering the Ghost of You

December 27th, 1944

I pulled my jacket tighter around me. My breath was frozen in the air barely illuminated in the pale sunlight that was disappearing beyond the trees. It was going to be another long night. We were winning though; pushing those damn Nazi’s even farther back on their ground. We were right at the border. Their army was rapidly diminishing, but that was no reason to relax. Night after night we were showered with mortars. They were running out though. I would pray for a silent night, but I knew that as long as they weren’t retreating I shouldn’t hold my breath.
I was glad that today I was in a trench farther back. I’d spent the last three days trapped in a frozen fox hole with two other soldiers. They were both dead now. Everyone seemed to be starving or frozen.
I rubbed my hands together and shifted my weight trying to keep my blood circulating. I had tried thinking or warmer weather, but it did nothing against the bitter air and relentless wind. Six hours ago Ray had left to head into the woods again. Each time medics went out the majority of them didn’t come back. I was courting death each time I left the false safety of these trenches.
More troops had been called in I had heard, but I hadn’t seen any new faces. That relaxed me only because I was glad I didn’t see Bob or Frank. There were very few casualties in Brussels and they were luckily not among them. I prayed every night for their safety though and for Esmerie to be well. I hadn’t heard any news from Paris so I assumed it was safe. I prayed every second for Ray. I held my breath every time I knew he should be returning to this camp. He always did. Soaked in blood, snow, and guts and looking a little more disheartened each time. No one was surviving out here unless it was a minor injury. It was too cold and most men were losing limbs or parts of their faces or had intestines spilling from them. I hated it. I hated crawling over the bodies eager to find survivors while trying not to get blown up myself.
The sun barely disappeared when the first blast shook the earth. It was farther down at least so my ears weren’t ringing. I was going to go deaf at this rate.
“Get ready to be sent out Way,” a commander grunted at me as he trudged through the frozen mud that was supposed to be the floor. I lit a cigarette and forced my aching and freezing body to stand. I hefted my bag and then waited, hoping the smoke would take the edge of the numbness off.
“I swear to god Ray if you die tonight I’ll hate you,” I muttered as I exhaled. This was becoming my mantra. He laughed when I told him, but I had to say it outloud since god seemed unable to hear my silent pleas and prayers.
The order to move out came six blasts later. There was hardly any gunfire though and if it was it seemed to be our men. I slipped through the blanket of night towards the trees where I knew, well hoped, our men were. Since there was gunfire I knew they weren’t all dead. As I headed towards the trees the gunfire became distant and the bombs picked up.
“Do we go forward?” someone called and I realized we were nearing the border. I could see the sky further ahead light up as bombs exploded. I took a breath realizing that our troops had gone forward. Ray was either out there or dead in the trees.
“You better be running,” I hissed as we were told to go forward.
I felt open as we ran through patches of sparse foliage or wreckage from exploded ground. Now there were bodies and none of them were moving. I guess bodies wasn’t the right word, it was more like limbs. I fought the urge to be sick as I scanned the soldiers. All of them wore our uniform.
About fifty feet away were the dead Germans. Tanks and canons were abandoned and surrounded by men in different uniforms looking exactly the same as our men. I fucking hated war. I pressed forward since I had no intention to be left alone without someone with a gun.

We came sliding over a set of low hills when we got to see the real fighting. There was a small village up in flames and bombs continuously going off. Fear tried to turn me around but it also moved me forward. It wasn’t until we were nearly to the town that I realized it wasn’t the German’s firing at us, it was their unused ammunition going off when fire reached it.
“Go around!” were the orders to the soldier but the commander motioned for me to go into the village. He was trying to kill me. I could hear the screams of the dying and injured, but that didn’t mean I wanted to go in and risk getting blown up.
Snow started falling as I cautiously entered the village with a few other soldiers who I knew carried medic supplies. At least the raging fires took the cold away. I wiped sweat from my brow and stowed my gloves. Lots of dead civilians and Nazi’s. Soldiers from both sides littered the ground the farther in I went. They were almost unrecognizable.
“Hilfe!” someone suddenly cried out over the crackle of the inferno around me. I stopped in my tracks and turned to the German soldier, a young man with blood dripping into his eye. I stared at him and he stared back. “Bitte!” he pleaded. “Ich bitte dich nur mir helfen!” he cried. I was still frozen. “Bitte.”
Before I knew what I was doing I was kneeling down and lifting his helmet off his head. It looked as if he’d managed to get clipped by a bullet. I knew I shouldn’t be wasting supplies since we were low, but one bandage could be spared. I quickly wrapped his head.
“Get the fuck out of here. Get rid of the uniform and run or we will hunt you down,” I hissed and from the fear in his ears I think he understood the jist of what I said. I helped him stand, took his gun, and then walked towards the other side of the village. In the moment I was disgusting with myself, but morally I felt fine. In the end we were all just humans in different clothing. He wasn’t the one who killed my brother or anything. Maybe he had killed a thousand men, but I had heard stories about those Nazi’s. They wouldn’t have asked for my help. I saw the fear in that young man’s eyes.
Suddenly there was another explosion and I was almost knocked off my feet. Shouts and screams filled my ears and again my instincts took over. I ran in the direction to see the side of a building blown out and the ground littered with American soldiers.
“We didn’t know there was amo left in it,” a medic said as he pushed past me. I stepped over limbs as I headed closer to the flames. A man crawling forward out of the smoke caught my attention and I raced to his side.
His should was bleeding profusely, a large chunk had been cut out of it, and he was gasping for air, but other then that he seemed okay.
“We have to get out of the heavy smoke,” I said lifting him to his feet. I basically dragged him into the snow to a less smoky area. The air was dry and filled with smoke though. I felt it choking me as I dug my supplies out of the bag. I turned the man over and almost threw up.
Frank’s terrified eyes stared up at me. Streaks from tears were on his soot covered cheeks. He looked petrified and I fumbled with the alcohol to disinfect the wound.
“It’s okay Frankie,” I choked out as he screamed as I tore fabric away from his shoulder and dumped alcohol on it. “It’s okay Frankie. Just talk to me,” I pleaded, my voice cracking. He didn’t say anything though. He just sobbed as I wrapped his shoulder as quickly as I could. I then pulled him tightly to me. I smoothed his hair as I whispered soothing words to the frighten kid. That’s really all he was. I held him tightly and watched the snow begin to douse the fires. He was shaking under me and I couldn’t tell if it was because of the fear or the cold. “Frankie what were you even doing down here?” I asked but he just shook his head. He was going into shock and I looked into his teary eyes. I fumbled to get morphine out with my quickly numbing fingers. As soon as I injected it he seemed to calm down. And then he went numb.
I sat next to him as he stared at the village; unmoving and not talking. “You’re safe now Frankie,” I said after a moment. I couldn’t even hear more gunfire at this point. He slowly shook his head.
“It was the only way I knew it was him,” he whispered in a shaky voice.
“What?” I asked confused.
“The only way I knew it was his body,” he choked out and I watched him uncurl his right fist. A crumpled picture sat in the palm of his hand.
“No,” I squeaked and took it with shaking hands. “No,” I whispered. “No. no. no! no! NO!” I roared into the night as I unfolded the crumpled photo. “Fucking no!” I sobbed and pulled Frankie close. He was crying too. I stared at the black sky, tearing streaming down my cheeks. “Why?! Fucking why?!” I screamed into the night balling the photo in my fist unable to bear the happy faces in the picture. “Why?” I sobbed into the top of Frank’s head.
“He was there and then he was gone,” Frank cried into my shoulder. “Why is he gone too Gee?” he whispered and we just sat there crying. I felt lost. Two of them were taken away from me for no reason. Gone in the blink of an eye. I didn’t understand God anymore. I hadn’t been able to since Mikey died and now this?
My tears were freezing on my cheeks but they wouldn’t stop falling. We just huddled there mourning yet another loss.
“He never even got to see his son,” Frank whimpered and I hugged him tighter.
“I know Frankie, I know,” I choked out. He clung tightly to me. I couldn’t really believe he was gone. My mind couldn’t process a world without Mikey, and now I was supposed to live in one without Bob too? I didn’t know what to do at this point other then to continue crying and holding onto Frank for dear life.