Life moves on. This chapter has taken a while due to mundane life interrupting writing time. My dear partner once again helped with various aspects and I appreciate his help. I am thankful to all the historians and the availability of information on the Internet. Otherwise, this chapter and others would have taken months instead of weeks. Hope you enjoy this next slice of life. Please vote and comment! I enjoy hearing from my readers.
*
Spring had brought heavy wet snow and the inevitable mud. Quintus and George had hauled rocks and gravel up from the riverbeds to make paths between the cabins. Between loads of rock from the river, they were digging graves as the ground thawed. So far, they had dug nine. Over the years the cemetery had been expanded. In the newer section was a place for soldiers. Rather than take up land for bodies that weren't there, there was simply a large slab of marble that had space for names as deaths were reported.
Natalie was exhausted. She sat in the rocker beside the fire, holding Bertie and wondering if there were any more deaths to come. First had been Betty. She had grown weaker and weaker as January turned into February. One morning Quintus had gone to see why Bertie was crying and found Betty had died in the night. It was so cold that they wrapped Betty's body up, placed it in a coffin and then put it out in the back of the barn.
Then city folk came onto their land hunting for deer and elk. Instead, they shot what they thought were four wolves. Kent had found the hunters, killed them and brought the 'wolves' back for burial. They too ended up wrapped and waiting in the barn.
Natalie knew that her mother Celia was ill, but then again, she swore the woman was fueled by hatred. Celia hated the war, the war brides, non-shifters, and just about anything to do with this century. In her 80's, she had grown smaller in stature and bitter. Natalie had foxglove tincture to take to her mother's but simply could not bring herself to get up out of the rocker. It didn't hurt that Bertie was asleep. She dozed in the chair.
*
"Maman," George said softly. He barely tapped Natalie and she woke up. George took the sleeping baby from her arms.
"What is it George?" asked Natalie.
"Quintus. He find Bizzet," her son said softly pointing to Quintus holding a frail naked old man in his arms.
"Merde!" hissed Natalie under her breath. She stood up and walked over to Quintus who had tears rolling down his cheeks. She touched Bizzet and found a weak thready pulse. He looked like he hadn't eaten in a week and smelled worse. "Where?" she asked.
"On the high meadow. I went hunting and smelled him. Went to look and found him like this. I bring him home," said Quintus.
"Take him to my bed. We make him comfortable. Not much else to do," said Natalie. They washed Bizzet as best they could and then Natalie sat with him while Quintus ran for Marie and Tilly. Marie took care of the children and got dinner while Tilly brewed up willow and mint tea for Bizzet. Tilly had turned out to be a good nurse and herbalist. She helped Natalie run the clinic.
Natalie spooned the tea into Bizzet's mouth. It was a slow process as she waited for it to go down. He finally began to swallow and she was able to give him sips instead. Tilly braced him upright for Natalie.
"Bizzet, you hear me?" Natalie asked when he finally made eye contact.
"Aye. Who bring me here?" he asked in a voice no louder than a whisper.
"Your boy, Quintus," said Natalie. "He find you."
"Good boy. Best my lot," whispered Bizzet. "I go, you put me next to Wild Girl, that meadow."
Natalie nodded. She knew the place. He slept on top of her grave for so long there was a dent in the earth. Tears began to gather and she wiped her eyes. She held his hand as he drifted off to sleep.
"Natalie, you gonna eat?" asked Tilly.
"Non. I stay with Bizzet," said Natalie.
"I'll be back in a minute and bring you a sandwich and a cup of tea. It's been hours since you ate and we can't lose you," said Tilly.
Natalie just nodded. Tilly was a force of nature, and right now, Natalie needed her and the strength she provided.
Bizzet passed at dawn. Natalie had fallen asleep in the chair when his wheezing woke her. He'd said his goodbyes between gasps and faded away. Outside, George, Quintus and Kent howled their grief to the dawn sky. Quintus had wanted to bury Bizzet in his uniform, but Kent and Natalie said no, knowing how much Bizzet had hated the military after the Great War. Instead, they wrapped him in an old quilt that Natalie knew had been his mother's. It was the quilt that he'd wrapped Quintus in all those years ago.
The boys buried Bizzet next to his beloved Wild Girl. They took time to bring stones up to cover both graves. Then it was time to fill the graves in the cemetery. By the end of the day, no one wanted to do anything. Natalie went to bed and left Tilly, Marie and Alice in charge. She gave orders to not be woken unless it was for Celia. She slept for nearly thirty hours.
*
Piedimonte, Italy. May, 1944.
"British to the left of us, Poles to the right and us in the damn middle!" hollered Jacques trying to be heard over the bombardment of the guns.
"Aye, and that damn reporter for the CBC is still blathering away back in that farmhouse," said Henry.
"What he say that Stursberg?" asked Jacques.
"He reporting the battle. Say we been given the shit job again. Thickest part to go through. Concrete, steel, and barbed wire. Meby 20 feet deep. Oh, and don' forget them 700-800 guns shooting at them damn Germans," said Henry. He flinched as yet another barrage landed nearby.
The men had been moving forward as best they could, but it was as rough here as it had been twenty times before. Monte Cassino had been a nightmare. Instead of fighting from house to house, it had been from bush to boulder. 'Buster' had done more for the Canadian troops by sniffing out booby traps, land mines and pockets of soldiers than most of the dog and handler teams. The New Zealand Corp and the Gurkas who'd been trapped on Hangman's Hill wanted to adopt Buster, but Henry refused. Soon after that was when Brian had been wounded.
Brian returned to duty just in time for the final assault on Monte Cassino. This time it was better organized. The British took a river the Americans had failed to cross on a previous attempt and the Poles linked up with the British and Canadian corps to provide the added strength to pinch off the German supply lines up the Liri Valley. When Monte Cassino fell, the remainder of the Canadians melded with other surviving units and headed with the British and II Polish Corp to the battlefield outside of Piedimonte. It was here that in a concentrated effort, the Germans were being smashed.
Brian came up behind Henry. "You seen Henri?" he asked.
"Non. He was down that way," Henry pointed. "Why?"
"I got this bad feeling," said Brian. He left the ammo he'd been carting and headed off towards the direction Henry pointed. At each entrenchment, Brian checked on the men and left supplies if he could.
"Sir, I look for my son-in-law, Henri Desjardin. Have you seen him?" Brian asked of one of the officers directing men at a headquarters station.
The officer looked on a roster and then a second sheet. "Ah yes. Thought I recognized that name. Hit and wounded. Down at the field hospital," he said. He pointed towards a dusty tent with a Red Cross emblem on it. Brian thanked the man and ran for the tent.
