“I just hope they give us a briefing soon. The brass has been tight-lipped about their plans.” The lack of information coming in only fueled his desire to remain in the military beyond the war. Being promoted to officer would not only please his father immensely, but it would also put him in the decision room. Now that he’d come to regard these men as his own blood brothers, he wanted to do everything he could to ensure their safety. And the ones to come after them.
His master’s degree would give him an advantage. And if he performed with excellence when tested in the field, it would almost guarantee rapid promotion.
“Wherever we’re sent, it will be a mighty vision to see them all in the air at the same time.” William’s eyes glossed over.
But the reality was that they were about to go to war. Not just the rehearsal for it. All their training, as difficult as it had been, was going to be nothing in comparison to flesh-and-blood battle.
The presence of such a substantial number of gliders only emphasized that.
By this time tomorrow, the planes would each bear three white stripes and two black stripes, making their bellies and wings look like zebras in order to identify them in the night. Word was that radio silence would be enforced not only because of the need to create a sneak attack, but also because the brass was afraid that the radio system wouldn’t be able to handle all that traffic.
So they had to arrive quiet and stealthy, making their presence known only by the contrast of their paint colors.
It was rumored that Captain Winters would be promoted again, another sure sign of what they were about to face. More responsibility on a good man’s shoulders. William had just earned his stripes as a corporal, and Tom was just below him as a technician fifth grade.
Sometimes those were meritorious. Sometimes they were given in anticipation of a great loss of men.
Their orders were to report to Aldbourne on the evening of the fifth. Saying goodbye to everything that they had known for the last few months in this charmed village. And though it rained through the day and did not look as if it would let up, word came through that they were shipping out regardless. In fact, the brass hoped that attacking during this kind of weather would be one more layer of protection for them. The element of surprise.
William and Tom trudged down the stairs after packing up all of their gear, roundly full from a meal that had seemed like the Last Supper. Tom looked back with sadness. It was unlikely that he would ever return to this place. This place where he’d built memories with John and William. In which he’d read Margaret’s letters and begun to open his heart on paper.
Victoria laid her head on her paws and looked bereft, as if she could sense the shift in the house. Her shaggy fur hung over her eyes, only adding to her forlorn demeanor.
Tom expected to say goodbye to Mr. and Mrs. Brown as they read by the fireplace. But to his surprise, the old couple was already wrapped up in their raincoats and Wellies.
“We’ll not have you walking to Aldbourne in this weather,” said Mrs. Brown. “We’re going to drive you. We borrowed an automobile from the Turnberrys.”
“Don’t spend the petrol on us,” Tom protested, the British word for gasoline rolling off his tongue naturally.
Mr. Brown shook his head. “I’ll not hear any objections. Anything to help our boys.”
He took their heavy canvas bags on his shoulders, and Tom and William exchanged a look of surrender. They knew him well enough to realize that this usefulness gave him tremendous joy.
The rain poured and the simple car nearly got stuck in muddy ruts several times. Tom worried about how they would fly in such weather but figured that the higher-ups knew what was best. What was a little rain compared to saving civilization as they knew it? At least that’s what he told himself.
At last, they pulled up to the gates at Aldbourne. Mr. Brown saluted them and Mrs. Brown pushed a homemade fruitcake into William’s arms. Her eyes glistened with tears, and even Mr. Brown looked crumpled by their departure.
Tom pulled her into a hug, wanting to forever remember that she smelled of baked bread. He felt immeasurably grateful for the couple he would always think of as his English godparents.
“You boys be safe. Kick Hitler’s arse for us.” She pulled back from him and raised a fist before stepping back into the car.
Tom’s eyes widened at the uncharacteristic phrase coming from Mrs. Brown’s mouth, but then smiled when he saw her waving to him from behind the window.
“We will, Mrs. B. We will.”
* * *
France! Though it had been rumored that this would be their destination, the fickleness of battle had not guaranteed it. But the orders had come through and Tom was at last going to see the land of his mother’s family.
The flights were a go, and the troops were assigned to a C47 for what was being called Operation Neptune, part of the larger Operation Overlord. The mission of the Screaming Eagles and Easy Company particularly was to capture the town of Carentan, thereby connecting Omaha and Utah Beaches and preparing them for the Allied assault to come.
Carentan’s train tracks led to both Paris and Cherbourg, making it strategically vital to Axis forces.
And therefore, vital to the Allied ones.
Tom’s stomach churned as they strapped into the plane that would take them across the English Channel and drop them into France. When he’d taken the requisite literature courses as an undergrad, he imagined that when he made it to this country, he’d be reading a book, maybe Fitzgerald, while drinking coffee in Les Deux Magots. Isn’t that what one was supposed to do? But this would be a harried, dangerous entrance into a land now occupied by those who wanted a world order that would eliminate anyone who didn’t fit the Aryan recipe of perfection.
Tom thought of Hank, the grandson of a former slave, who picked peaches side by side with Tom in the late summer and had saved enough to buy a couple of acres of the Powell’s land and build a house for his family. He thought of Dr. Weinstein in the town of Lanexa, who had treated his mother when she contracted pneumonia and traveled to and from their farm to check on her, long after his bill had been paid. He thought of the McClintock family a few farms over. Catholics with a bevy of children who were always so welcoming to Tom when he walked by and had invited him in for blueberry pancakes if he was nearby on a Saturday morning.
And William. Perhaps that was the most poignant of all. Men like William, who already lived in the shadows of what was acceptable in society, would have no place in a world dominated by Nazis.
Adolf Hitler would wipe all of them and the millions like them from the face of the earth if they didn’t succeed in their mission.
Tom had not thought of it that way before. Not when reading the newspapers as the United States considered whether or not to join the war effort. Not even during training, where his focus had been on learning all he could and proving himself to his father. Earning a place on the fireplace mantel.
But now that the plane rattled away in liftoff, now that the rumble of the engine drowned out any word spoken between the men, now that lightning flashed in the distance and the fear of crashing into the frigid waters below crept in, he imagined the people who had populated his youth and was determined to fight for them. To fight for their right to exist and thrive and have the same unworried life that Tom had enjoyed up until now.