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 than one occasion. His considerable knowledge of the war and his extensive knowledge of geography are priceless. He says the monastery is close. We have been travelling without lights for more than half an hour. My eyes are finally adjusted. The snow cover on the ground has lightened the terrain a bit.
Em closed his journal and sat up in his bunk. The memories of that night were etched on his mind. Just when he had been thinking how peaceful it was, he heard the rocket launch. He remembered tucking his journal under his seat in the truck and thinking that was the last time he would see it. Sergeant Cannon pulled the truck over, and everyone got out. The colonel looked strange with camouflage on his face. Everyone else looked normal. Captain Murphy made one of his racist jokes about Jeff not needing much camouflage. Jeff laughed like he always did but said nothing. Em never thought it eased the tension like Captain Murphy did. The colonel was looking to the south, the way in which they had been travelling.
“Jeffrey, that was close.” Colonel Roth pulled Sergeant Cannon to the side of the truck. They spoke rapidly to each other.
Jack and Jeff were behind the truck going through their ammunition supplies. Sergeant Barnes had climbed into the front of the truck and sat down. Captain Murphy made his way toward Sergeant Cannon and Colonel Roth. Em stood in the middle of the road and looked into the sky. He saw no other evidence of rockets being fired. Em knew that the rocket had been fired from somewhere close because, when they heard it accelerating, it had sounded extremely close. The colonel looked more worried than Em had ever seen him look before. He kept pointing in the direction of the fired rocket. Em was afraid of what his plan was going to be. As if on cue, Sergeant Cannon called for Jeff to join him and Colonel Roth.
Jack came to stand beside Em, and the first thing he said was “This shit’s going to stop. I want to know what they are thinking.” Then he walked directly toward the other three airmen.
Em quickly followed. The three of them were oblivious to their presence and kept on talking.
“We are too close not to do something,” Sergeant Cannon said.
Jeff uncharacteristically spoke without being prompted, “We have enough ammo to take this thing out. They obviously do not know we’re here, so surprise is on our side. That launcher has to be a hundred feet long, so I believe we can sniff them out. I bet they are pretty comfortable here in the forest. The whole German army invaded France through these woods, and still, no one defends this area. They are close enough to Antwerp here, and I know Hitler wants that port back. He will stop at nothing. The way I see it, if he drives a wedge through this corridor on his way back to Antwerp, he will split the British armies and the American division in half. Each side will be on their own, and the Germans will retake the port. This launcher is a big part of that plan.” Jeff stopped talking, and the others all looked in anticipation, waiting for him to continue. “There should be no more than a ten- or twelve-man crew per launch vehicle. If we could get our hands on that launcher, we could prevent a lot of unnecessary deaths.”
The decision was made without anyone uttering a word. All of them proceeded to make their way to the back of the truck to arm themselves. Sergeant Barnes remained inside the cab of the truck. Each of them knew that Sergeant Barnes would probably stay inside the truck. He had trouble climbing into the truck. It had become an unspoken agreement between him and the whole team that he was along for the repairs. None of them wanted to be responsible for him in the field.
Em felt his flesh begin to tingle with fear and anticipation.
