more.
It has been over a month again since I have received a letter from you. I am used to getting them sporadically. I hope that some of your words are finding their way to me now. In the last letter you wrote, I learned about so many things. I know that you cannot tell me everything; however, I do not feel that any secrets will be revealed by me knowing where you are. Some of the things that you do reveal to me are interesting, but I am failing to see the importance of these missions. Colonel Roth promised that you would be an important part of this team, but from your letters, it seems that he has a trust issue. You and Jack are often in the dark about what exactly you are doing. I know you don’t say so, but you forget how well I know you. I can read between the lines. Your frustration comes through loud and clear. He promised you almost a year ago that he would trust you completely because that is the way he was training you. How is it that you and Jack are always the last ones to know exactly what your mission is? I hope that things are different now. Tomorrow is May 2, and I have not heard from you since the end of March. I will not pressure you because I know that you are writing, and I know that you are thinking of me. I love you, Emory Story. I will be here waiting for you upon your return. You and Corby get home and build me that house that you have promised. I can’t wait to be Mrs. Emory Story.
Emory, it is now ten o’clock in the evening, and I will try and finish this letter. I have been to the courthouse, and the news around town is that Hitler is dead. Everyone is so excited! I know that this means that this blasted war will finally be over. Mussolini is gone, and Hitler and his SS are gone. Now all we have to do is finish things in the Pacific, and you can come home. I will end this with a feeling of certainty that you are coming home. Your last letter said that you were no longer in the Pacific realm. With things in Europe ending, I know that Colonel Roth will send you home. There cannot be anything else for you to do. Please do not volunteer for anything new. You must come home to me and your mother. You and Corby will be back here soon, and life can begin again. I see my life with you in my dreams every night. You are the love of my life. Our family will grow with that love. Getting to grow old with you is my mission! Come home to me, Emory. I love you with all my heart and pledge to love you till death do us part.
I love you,
Irene
Emory lay in his bunk reading her letter for at least the tenth time. He knew that he should be sleeping, but his tears kept him awake. He too felt like the past year had been an eternity. After he and the rest of his team got back to Hawaii, things began to move much too fast. The ride aboard the Indianapolis had only been the beginning. Looking back at that time now, he felt like it had been a lifetime ago. Jeff’s parents and grandmother were safely tucked away in Atlanta. Colonel Roth and Captain Murphy were now leading them all over Europe. They landed their plane on runways that were much too small for their C-47 Skytrain. When a bomber would crash, the pilots would eject, and Colonel Roth and his team would land on whatever surface they could find and rescue them. Em was now so used to flying that he could sleep through turbulence. Loading and unloading the plane had become as routine as brushing his teeth. The downed pilots were always so grateful. Em had sadly become so accustomed to their thankfulness that he no longer felt the emotion that he had felt on his first mission of this type. With so many missions being flown into enemy territory, Em had assumed that they would be a target. However, after more than two dozen rescue missions, they never encountered enemy fire. Em was certain that their luck would eventually run out. Now, even though he was still flying every day, he had not been over enemy territory in more than two months.
Jack had found out that something big was brewing. Jack had a knack for finding things out. His smooth demeanor was calming for anyone he was talking to. It seemed like everyone always wanted to impress him. He used people to gain knowledge. Em had been watching him for a long time now and would never underestimate him again.
Now, his only thoughts were of Irene and everything at home. He decided that he would write to Irene and tell her everything. After all, the war would definitely be over soon now that Hitler was dead. The secrecy that enveloped him seemed unimportant now. He would write to her and tell her everything. Then he would mail it whenever he got the opportunity. His journal was full. He wrote every day and kept a detailed account of every mission he had been on. To his knowledge, nothing they had done was top secret. As a matter of fact, some of the things they had done had been frivolous. When their plane was supposed to be moving troops, it somehow always came home loaded with crates and objects that did not have anything to do with war at all. He had never been tempted to look into the crates, but he could tell that their contents were important to someone. When they would land, officers would board the plane as soon as the ramp descended. Some of the crates would be unloaded into waiting jeeps and taken away immediately. To Em, it felt that greed accompanied the officers onto their plane. The smiles that were on the faces of the officers suggested personal gain. He never once questioned Colonel Roth or Sergeant Cannon. He just assumed that if they were risking their lives for the contents of the crates, then it must be important. The trust that Colonel Roth promised had finally been earned. The colonel had explained to them that he had always trusted their loyalty. He went on to explain that he had needed time to trust their capability. Just a week ago, he had promised that the two of them would be included in more of the planning from now on.
He retrieved his notebook from under his mattress and looked at the many pages filled with his own handwriting. Some of the pages were stained with oil, and some had blood on them. He read an entry from five months ago:
December 14, 1944
Today, Sergeant Cannon came to get Jack and me to get the plane ready for flight. He seemed rather despondent. Jack, of course, asked him what was wrong. After calmly turning and sitting on one of the bunks, he looked at Jack and said, “Turner. what makes you think that something is wrong?” Jack immediately stated that the sergeant’s uniform was not quite lined up straight, and to him, that was a sure sign that something was definitely wrong. Sergeant Cannon just laughed and slapped his knee. I knew that if he wanted Jack to know anything that he would tell him when it suited him best. Instead, he started to explain our next mission.
Tomorrow, December 15, we will fly to Antwerp and land on the only air strip. The port city in the Lowlands of northern Belgium has been important to the Allies since D-Day. The Germans want it back, and Hitler will surely be trying something desperate soon. All we need to do is land and retrieve and get the hell out of there. We will go in loaded with supplies and bring back intercepted stolen artifacts that are being transported to Berlin.
Sergeant Cannon briefly stopped talking and looked at me and Jack and got the sincerest look we had ever seen him display. He looked from Jack to me and said that these new German bombs were falling all over Antwerp, and the Allies could not stop them. There were mobile launchers hidden in the forest, and finding them had proven difficult. After we land, he said, we would be transported south toward the Wallonia region where we are to make contact with a certain monastery. He says that Colonel Roth will attempt to persuade the king of Belgium to remain in Belgium. For the past three years, he had been collaborating with Germany. He thought he was doing the right thing, but while he thought that he was saving Belgian lives, the Germans were using him to manipulate the Belgian people. To the Germans, those sympathetic to the ousted king would be more controllable if they believed their king was in Berlin. If Colonel Roth could persuade him to accompany us to Brussels, where the Belgian government was trying to reestablish control, Belgium would be well on her way to recovery. Sergeant Cannon does not seem to be totally on board with this one. As usual, this is all me and Jack will know until the mission is over. I am getting tired of being in the dark!
*****
December 15, 1944
We are on our way to Dinant near the German front lines. The country seems so peaceful at night. I can’t see any destruction from the inside of the truck, only the rolling hills and small mountain range. The Meuse River is below us and looks peaceful also. Sergeant Barnes looks a little tired. I think he has gained weight since we got to Europe. I don’t know where he gets the food. To his credit, he does share. The sausage he gave me and Jack yesterday was delicious. Jeff sat quietly, as he most always does. I can’t imagine how he feels most of the time. Being the only black man travelling with our group has to be intimidating. He has proved himself invaluable on more