She stood on the bridge, looking forward. Her armor was hanging heavily on her shoulders now, blood streaking her face. Far below, she could see the water raging and felt a kinship with it as it smashed against the rocks. Somewhere far away, somewhere held close in her mind and her memory, there was a town and a home and a man. Reaching into a pouch stained with dirt and blood, she produced a small metal disc. Held within was a picture, a tiny painted portrait of a man and a child. That was her home, her heart, and as she took a shaky breath and winced, she knew she wouldn’t be making it back. The painting slipped from her fingers, falling to the water far below.
Today was one of the stories no one ever tells because there are none who would believe save for those who bore witness. We were pressed by the rebel forces, penned down behind our meager fortifications of fallen trees and farmer’s fences. Shots rang out on all sides and a haze filled the air. That was when I saw the figures step in to fill out our ranks. They were clad in blue, same as my own Massachusetts regiment, but these men were a breed apart. The man beside me put a hand on my shoulder and grinned at my surprise, for he was my own great-grandfather, decades gone to his rest. Bolstered by the numbers of this greatest generation of soldiers, we rallied. I swear to you, the sound of horses was in our infantry charge and I saw a tall man astride a white horse in the vanguard, his saber raised high. The rebels broke and ran, leaving the day to us. But none will ever believe, I fear. Even now as I commit it to paper and ink, it sounds like a flight of fancy. But I will never forget.
He didn’t know what the package sitting in his trunk was and he didn’t need to know. Knowing was dangerous. Knowing made you suspicious when you made it to border checkpoints. Certainly, you couldn’t be too calm when you crossed or the border guards would notice. They always did. Just the right amount of innocence mixed with caution. That was the ticket. Everyone was doing something wrong, something forbidden. Just don’t look like you’re doing something big. Rolling down his window, he saluted the guards and then put his hands both back on the wheel.
“Anything to declare?”
The guard leaned in, a frown on her face but her expression otherwise masked by mirrored sunglasses.
“Trying to be a smart alec?”
“No, sir. Uh…Ma’am.”
She looked into the back seat and then nodded.
“Move on through.”
Relieved, he drove past the checkpoint. Now his curiosity could be piqued, he could pull off in the no man’s land and find out what he was carrying. After all, the true destination would be on the package.
He pulled off onto a side road and drove for a bit longer before he got out and opened the trunk. A small girl blinked up at him, her brown eyes solemn.
“Are we there, Mister?”
“What do we do?”
His voice was quiet, barely a whisper tucked in at my side. Looking down, I could see that his whole body was shaking. Or was it mine? We were pressed so tightly in that darkness that it was hard to tell.
“We’ll be alright, Danny, I promise. Just…just trust me.”
It was a lie. The look in his eyes, though, the way they shone. He believed me. That was the worst part of it. He believed me. I put an arm around the little boy’s shoulders and tried to think. 500 yards, a barbed wire fence, two guard towers with searchlights, and guard patrols. That was assuming they didn’t have the horrors out tonight. My promise weighed heavily on my heart as I stood.
“Come on, see that window? I’m going to hoist you up.”
We’d never make it. It was too far, we were too weak, and he was too small. They would see him, they would see me. And even if we made it, what then? I heard a sound and grabbed his arm. Crunching. Something was crunching nearby. Almost like something moving over gravel. Offering up a silent prayer to whoever might be listening, I hung on the window ledge and looked out. The outer perimeter was on fire and a line of tanks was bearing down. It was impossible and yet there it was. Freedom.
It was their song. It had been playing on the radio when he’d sat down at the counter in the diner for the first time and she’d leaned over to ask him what he’d have. Of course, neither of them remembered that. What they both remembered was it playing on another radio on another night when the pair sat in his car down by the river and watched the stars.
“Don’t worry, give it a few months and we’ll have licked those Krauts. I’ll be home for Christmas.”
“I promise. We’ll be right back here, Trace. Lookin’ out at those same stars.”
It was playing on the radio again when the news bulletin broke in to tell the world that the Allies were on the march. And again when she was up with the sun, to meet the sickness which had plagued her mornings. When she got her best friend to take her to the hospital, the song was ending just as they arrived. When their son was born, she sang the song to him in hushed tones, telling the newborn babe that soon he’d get to meet his papa.
“He’ll be home for Christmas, he promised.”
When the telegram came, the radio was as silent as the tears on her face.
Far-flung in space and time
holding on to nothing
holding back everyone
we know nothing of what we do
Flashes of light bursting in colors
explosions of nothing
watching the gates against the darkness
refusing to accept…
alone but surrounded
enemies on all fronts
yet all’s quiet on every front
only when they come will we know
but they are not…
spinning whirling never stopping
alone and hopeless
surrounded and helpless
the cosmic war shall never end
darting here, darting there
flying through the starry void
weapons cocked, ready to fire
upon our enemies
we’ve never seen them
but we know
we must kill them all
friends or foes
they come to us with arms out wide
to embrace their possible new allies
but we fire into the crowd
with our lasers, mow them down
they sent messages we couldn’t read
and greeted us with only friendship
but no more is there an alien race
for we have decimated them, one and all
they were different
and different is bad
so none are left by our hands
and again we float alone in space