The Girl in the Blue Beret - By Bobbie Ann Mason Page 0,64

seek him underground. Or the sewers of Paris, perhaps.”

“That reminds me—what was the station I left from to go south, toward Spain?”

“The Gare d’Austerlitz. The trains go south.”

“I don’t think I’ve been there since the war.”

“That’s where you would have departed with your guide, who could have been Lebeau. And, Marshall, you must know—it is the station where they sent the Jews out.”

“Isn’t Germany north?”

“They were sent to internment camps in France first.”

“I see.”

“Maybe you don’t. The French interned them.”

He paused. Marshall didn’t know what to say.

Nicolas said, “Don’t worry, Marshall. I will make some more inquiries, hoping to hear things Bourgogne. I will busy myself.”

“I appreciate your help, Nicolas. Here I am in Paris, an old guy on the loose. Sometimes I feel pretty mixed up.”

“Don’t worry, Marshall. You have friends here. One day, perhaps, you will be content. Don’t forget my parents are expecting you here again in Chauny for a grand Sunday at their table. Maman will invite you.”

“I haven’t forgotten. Merci, Nicolas. Au revoir!”

29.

A LETTER FROM AL GRAINGER WAS THE ONLY MAIL IN THE BOX. Marshall was relieved to hear from him finally. Grainger, always the straggler.

Dear Marshall,

I was on vacation in Branson when your letter came. I was bowled over. Long time no see! 1963, was it? I’m sorry to hear about Loretta. She was the life of the party, I remember! Always saying something cute. Well, that’s a heartbreaker, and now you’re retired. Two big things at once, I guess you’re thinking. But I know you, Marshall. You’ll grin and bear it, keep a stiff upper lip. God never gives us more than we can bear. We know that from experience, don’t we?

Whew. The account of your trip back to the final resting place of our old machine filled me up. Not to mention the resting place of our pilot. And I keep thinking about Hootie. That Hootie was a stitch. That was about the worst thing I took with me into captivity—the sight of that funny, twisted kid laying on the ground. He looked so peaceful! I was sure he was dead. And I tell you I was scared seeing him like that, with all those people rushing at us. They got me off to somebody’s house, and there was a doctor, but my shoulder was so bad they had to take me to the hospital, and that’s when the Germans started to watch over me till I got better, and then they hauled me off to their fine country where the scenery—thanks to our guys!—was a lot of wreckage, things blown up, piles of stones and rubble. I kept giving thanks to the Lord that I was alive and that our bombers were just tearing them up. I knew the Jerries couldn’t last, so that gave me hope.

While I was in Stalag Luft I, I found my strength in the Lord, and He helped me through the worst days. I’d say prayers every time we had a pinch of something to eat in that hellhole, or whenever we got mail and Red Cross packages. I think the others I bunked with—I was in with Campanello, you know—got tired of me making a fuss over Jesus. I’d say we had to share our rations with Jesus, and all sorts of stuff that must have sounded like claptrap, but I swear it got us through. Oh, we didn’t dig any escape tunnels, but we figured how to defeat our enemies by giving all the credit to Jesus. Man, that was a time.

After we got out, I was sent back to Missouri, and my shoulder had healed a little funny, so I had several operations at St. Louis. I think it turned out OK, just aches a little when it’s real wet. Life has been pretty good since. I got established with my business out in California, but I get back to Missouri, even though my parents died long ago. I’ve got so many relatives. My two sons live there, and my daughter’s in California. They’re all busy producing babies and they’re all doing well. This was the American dream, huh, Marshall? I can’t complain. We did good.

It’s sad to learn about the man who lost his life helping our crew, but it pleases me to hear how fondly the Belgian people remember us. I hadn’t given a whole lot of thought to them over the years, but now I see that they have been thinking of us ever since. It would be good to

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