Destiny Rising: The Morgan Chronicles

By Carole Bailey

On the Western Front in France in the summer of 1918, World War I whirled around U.S. Army nurse Jenny Drake. Lured into patriotic espionage, she is thrown together with U.S. Army Air Service pilot, Joseph Morgan. The two are instantly attracted to each other, but the race to find the traitors in their midst puts Jenny in the direct path of a life-threatening situation. Thus begins The Morgan Chronicles in Destiny Rising, Book OneThe Masters Rose.

Destiny Rising, Book TwoFatal Mark continues The Morgan Chronicles during the last months of World War II. When Annie Bells flight instructor Jessie is found dead, Annie becomes a nurse at Tulsa General Hospital, the place Jessie was last seen alive. Determined to find the truth, Annie is drawn into a relationship with Stewart Morgan, Navy pilot and intelligence officer. Together they pursue the investigation until he is given overseas orders. Annie proceeds on her own, tumbling into a criminal web that is trapping women patients into a psychotic state.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: May 13, 2011
• ISBN: 9781456769895

Carole Bailey

Carole Bailey is a lifelong reader of mystery, romance, westerns and science fiction. Born in San Diego, California, she has migrated to the slower pace and sweeping skies of Arizona. She continues weaving the intrigue spun in Ancient Boundary Stone and Chariots of the Clouds in the third book of The Morgan Chronicles series, Destiny Rising.

Book preview

Contents

PROLOGUE JANUARY 2011

MAY 1918 FRANCE — WESTERN FRONT

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINTEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

EPILOGUE JANUARY 2011

PROLOGUE JANUARY 2011

DECEMBER 1944 POMONA VALLEY — CALIFORNIA

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

CHAPTER NINETEEN

CHAPTER TWENTY

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

EPILOGUE AUGUST 14, 1945

JANUARY 2011

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THE MASTER’S ROSE

The Morgan Chronicles:

Destiny Rising Book One

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THE MASTER’S ROSE

MAIN CHARACTERS

Jennifer (Jenny) Drake — United States Army nurse, stationed at a Casualty Clearing Station (CCS) on the Western Front in France

Joseph Morgan — Lieutenant/pilot in the United States Army Air Service

ALAPHABETICAL ORDER

Absalom Luther — Captain/doctor, stationed at the Casualty Clearing Station

Albert Fillmore — Lieutenant/pilot in United States Army Air Service

Clarence Allen — Corporal/Ambulance driver in United States Army Service Corps

Claude Omar — Lieutenant/pilot in United States Army Air Service

John Larue — Major/doctor. Senior medical officer of Jenny’s CCS unit

Maggie Hatts — United States Army nurse. Friend of Jenny Drake

Monsignor Dedric — Priest at a church behind the German trenches

Oscar Hamilton — Corporal/Marine corpsman

Pauline Pearl — United States Army nurse. Friend of Jenny Drake

Samuel Andrews — Colonel/Commander of United States Army unit

Sister Belina — Nun/nurse at Monsignor Dedric’s church

Sister Bernadette — Nun/nurse at Monsignor Dedric’s church

Sister Imogene — Nun/nurse at Monsignor Dedric’s church

YOU ARE MY HIDING PLACE AND MY SHIELD

PSALM 119:114

PROLOGUE

JANUARY 2011

Music drifted in from the room next door. The birthday party was in full swing. Jen picked up a camera-size glass display case from the sofa table.

Ah, the ring that started it all. A familiar hand touched Jen’s shoulder.

Without taking her eyes from the case, Jen replied. Yes, Kate, I suppose it is what began our family. If it hadn’t been for Great-Grandmother Jenny and Great-Grandfather Joseph, you and I would not be here.

That, my favorite cousin, is an understatement. Kate reached around Jen and gently took the glass case from her hands. How romantic it must have been to get a ring woven out of leather from an adventurous flyboy.

Jen raised the picture that dwelled next to the display case and held it at arm’s length so they both could see it. Flyboy, he was.

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Flying Jenny

MAY 1918

FRANCE — WESTERN FRONT

Don’t tell me you won’t do what you are being ordered to do! the doctor roared. Red fury rose in his face.

Ordered? What do you mean ordered? the young pilot yelled. I’m not a Hun. You can’t order me around.

Not a German? The fury was replaced by a sneer. No, you are not a German but you became mine when you agreed to fly for me.

That was not the agreement. The young pilot’s voice weakened. I said I would only fly one mission for you.

"There is no one mission once you make an agreement with us." His voice dripped with menacing sarcasm.

You’ve paid me. I’m done. The young pilot turned to walk away.

Think about what you are doing. Are you sure you want it to end this way?

Yes! Yes, I am sure… the young pilot turned and stared at a glistening German Luger.

We bought you with that mission. There is only one way out for you, the doctor scowled. Not only you but your nurse girlfriend.

Leave her out of this! Anger streaked the pilot’s words.

Can’t do that. In fact, you are going to enlist her to our side.

No. I won’t do it!

In one calm motion the doctor raised and cocked the pistol. Yes, you will or the next time you see her it won’t be on earth. His tone hardened. The campaigns we have launched in the north are not going well. We need medical supplies. You will get your girlfriend to steal them for us.

Why don’t you steal them? You are a doctor. Confusion filled the pilot’s question.

And take the chance of being caught? No. Your girlfriend will confiscate what I order her to take and you will continue to fly where I order you. He tapped the barrel of the pistol on the embroidered wings of the pilot’s khaki tunic. Do you understand the consequences of not obeying me?

Pain filled the pilot’s eyes. Yes.

The doctor threw his head back and looked at the clouded sky. Sinister laughter rolled from his lips. When you sell your soul, you pay with your soul. You belong to me.

CHAPTER ONE

JUNE 1918

They’re coming! They’re coming! I can hear them! Pauline whispered excitedly over the rhythmic sound of the flapping canvas at the rear of the ambulance.

Jenny stared curiously at her friend and mumbled to herself, Why did I let Pauline and Maggie talk me into coming out on a night like this? Nineteen hours straight on her feet—fifteen of those hours were in the operating tent. Her bed was calling loudly to her cold, tired body. Yet here she sat, in the back of an Army Service Corps ambulance, waiting for aeroplanes to land. Rain dripped through the holes in the canvas roof onto her dark blue velour army nurse’s hat.

Do you hear them? Pauline persisted. Jenny, do you hear them?

Yes…vaguely. Jenny listened intently. How do you know they are ours?

A quizzical look fell on Pauline’s face. I don’t know.

The sound of the engines, Corporal Allen piped in.

Pauline and Jenny both looked at the ambulance driver. Corporal Allen clutched the steering wheel of the Ford ambulance a little tighter, cocked his head, and listened closely. You can tell by the hum of the motors. Our aeroplanes sound different than the Huns’ machines. His authoritative statement reassured the two nurses, or at least quieted their questions.

Jenny lifted the flap at the rear of the ambulance and peered into the cloud-filled night. Twenty feet away a Marine corpsman, Corporal Hamilton, leaned against the fender of a second ambulance. He tapped the end of a cigarette on the back of his hand before he put it in his mouth. The first flip of his lighter created a reddish ember at the tip of the cigarette. He pointed toward a small, toy-like aeroplane that disappeared back into a cloud.

Maggie, Jenny’s other roommate, waved to her from the partially-opened back flap. Jenny, Maggie shouted over the drizzling rain, isn’t this exciting?

Jenny nodded. Behind Maggie, Jenny detected the shadowy figure of Army doctor Captain Absalom Luther. The glow from his cigarette made his movements surreal through the ambulance’s canvas sides.

The humming grew louder and drowned out any more conversation. Jenny heard the droning sound of aeroplanes but could not see them. For a moment she allowed her thoughts to drift to the previous night and why she now found herself crouched in the back of the ambulance.

Jenny and her two Army nurse roommates, Pauline Pearl and Maggie Hatts, had found solace in their tent after a light day at the Casualty Clearing Station field hospital. The war at the Western Front a few miles from them still raged on, but it was one of the few days there was not a rush of incoming wounded to their field hospital. Instead of joining other nurses at the mess tent, the three of them had retired to the quiet of their quarters. Quiet, Jenny thought, if you don’t mind roommates who babble. Pauline and Maggie talked relentlessly about two pilots, Lieutenant Albert Fillmore and Lieutenant Claude Omar, in the bomber squadron whom they were seeing. Both roommates laughed nervously about their thoughts of having a clandestine meeting with the men. And now the opportunity was upon them for the next night.

It’s very simple, Maggie explained to Jenny. Lieutenant Fillmore and Lieutenant Omar are just two of the brave pilots who are making extra flights across the Front to rescue wounded soldiers and downed pilots who have been stranded behind the Hun trenches.

What are you talking about? Jenny responded, totally confused.

Pauline chimed in, Well, the boys were talking today and it seems that the nurses who got shipped out last week were helping with their activities and now they need new help. They asked if we’d like to help them. Secretively, you know, since we’re not supposed to be alone with the men.

Jenny was still confused. Help me understand what in the world the two of you are babbling about.

I’ll tell you what we know, Maggie started. After the last raid of the night, a couple of the pilots fly back over the trenches without their gunlayers, pick up one or two wounded, put them in the back of the plane and fly them back here. Then…

That’s where we come in, Pauline interrupted Maggie.

Maggie gave Pauline a wink. Yes, that’s where we come in. We take ambulances to the aerodrome, pick up the wounded and bring them back to CCS.

And which of our doctors or commanding officers know what’s going on? Jenny questioned.

Maggie cast an uneasy glance at the other two. Claude…uh, Lieutenant Omar said we should only talk to Captain Luther. He would know when, where and how to take care of everything.

Jenny thought for a moment. Could this be what was happening when we would get just a few wounded in some nights? Before they could answer, Jenny continued, Now that I think about it, Captain Luther was always with those wounded.

Maggie and Pauline exchanged glances. Maybe, they uttered in unison.

They’re planning a trip tomorrow night. That is, if they don’t get caught up with late night raids, Maggie said. We’d like you to come with us.

Pauline jumped in again. Yes, we think that would be swell if you did come.

Jenny looked at her two friends. The three of them had met on the docks waiting to board the boat that would carry them to England. They instantly became friends. The eight day trip proved quiet an adventure. Maggie spent much of the first few days seasick but after that they laughed together at all the military drills required to fill the days. They explored the boat together in any free moments they could grab and shared secrets during the complete blackouts each night. And like so many other nurses on the ship, they found comfort in their faith and prayer. Upon arriving in England they were sent to France where they were separated and sent to different base hospitals. Jenny and Pauline wrote each other a couple of times each week. In that time their friendship grew stronger. Both waited to be sent closer to the Western Front.

After serving a couple of months at the base hospitals, they found themselves stationed at the same Casualty Clearing Station a few miles from the trenches of the Western Front. They were pleased and excited when they ended up billeted with Maggie who arrived at the small field hospital a few weeks before them.

What do you say, Jenny? Pauline interrupted Jenny’s thoughts. Will you go with us tomorrow night?

Jenny frowned. You two are just hoping for that clandestine meeting with your pilots.

No, no, Maggie insisted. That’s not it. Well, not totally. We really want to help.

Pauline looked at her friends and shrugged. After all, we are Army nurses. And they are bringing in wounded.

Yes, we are Army nurses, Jenny sighed. Reluctantly she nodded her head. Okay. I’ll go. But I’m still not sure that you two aren’t planning a secret meeting of some sort. When she agreed she did not realize that she would be awakened at two in the morning to the sound of wounded men coming in, which began an exhausting nineteen hours.

And now she was hunkered-down in the back of an ambulance, waiting for the aeroplanes. She still wasn’t sure that, if they were caught by the commanding officers, whether there would be some sort of field punishment for being out of quarters meeting men.

There! There! Pauline yelled, jumping out of the ambulance. Maggie and Corporal Allen stood with Corporal Hamilton in front of the ambulances. Pauline craned her neck trying to see which aeroplane was coming down.

Jenny watched from the relatively dry bed of the ambulance as the speck of a biplane popped through the clouds and grew bigger until its wheels finally touched the ground. The mud grabbed the wheels, nosing the aeroplane over onto the wooden propeller and then slamming it back on its tail. The pilot jumped out of the front cockpit and hurriedly walked to the tail of the biplane and began checking its rudder.

It’s Claude…Lieutenant Omar, Maggie blurted out. She bolted toward him and slipped her hand into his. He pulled his hand away from her grasp and nudged her toward the others who had begun to unload a man, clothed in a French pilot’s uniform, from the gunner’s cockpit. Confusion and disappointment flooded Maggie’s face but she yielded to Claude’s nudge by moving away from him toward the front of the aeroplane. He returned his focus to the aeroplane’s rudder.

Unsure what to do, Jenny slid out of the ambulance and stood motionless. Her eyes darted from Maggie to Lieutenant Omar. This was not what Maggie had talked about or hoped would happen. Her friend’s countenance was crestfallen. The movement of Captain Luther brought her attention back to the job at hand. She eased a few steps behind him.

Captain Luther walked briskly toward the back of the aeroplane and grabbed Lieutenant Omar’s arm. What happened? he spit out.

Lieutenant Omar glanced at Jenny then back to the Captain. On the way over I was a little off the flight plan and wandered over the Hindenburg Line. I did what needed to be done, and then I flew to the church and picked up my wounded.

Captain Luther loosened his grip. Everything go okay on the flight back?

Claude shifted his weight. Yes. All went as planned. He again looked at Jenny. I’ve got to check my machine before I bed down, he stated, and walked away from Captain Luther. Better get this French pilot to CCS fast. He’s grave. He pointed to the man being helped out of the aeroplane. I don’t know the condition of the others. I picked him up and left, he yelled as he checked his propeller. And don’t give him any morphine. I’ve done that.

Corporal Allen, get the stretcher, Captain Luther ordered. His continuing glare at Lieutenant Omar sent a chill through Jenny.

Yes sir, Corporal Allen replied. He ran to an ambulance and quickly returned with a stretcher. Before he could totally get the stretcher horizontal the others had managed to get the wounded man out of the aeroplane and lay him down. Corporal Hamilton administered medical aid to him with Pauline’s and Maggie’s help. The pilot on the stretcher kept his eyes closed and didn’t say anything.

Captain Luther turned to Corporal Allen and Maggie. Corporal! You drive. Miss Hatts, you go with us. We’ll take this man back to CCS. He turned to Jenny, Pauline and Corporal Hamilton and said, Corpsman, you and these two nurses wait for the next aeroplanes and bring back their wounded. He jumped into the back of the ambulance with Maggie and the wounded pilot. Corporal Allen cranked the engine, jumped in the driver’s seat and took off toward the Casualty Clearing Station.

Strange, Corporal Hamilton said. That pilot didn’t seem grave to me. All his vital signs were strong.

Before Jenny could ask any questions another aeroplane popped through the clouds. Pauline was ecstatic. It’s Albert, she whispered to Jenny.

Jenny looked at the expression on her friend’s face. I never would have guessed, she smiled. She prayed Pauline wouldn’t be disappointed like Maggie.

Like Lieutenant Omar’s aeroplane, this machine flipped forward onto its propeller before settling to a stop. Albert jumped out of the aeroplane and yelled at Claude. Omar! I see you made it back. You didn’t seem to be able to navigate on this flight. We heard you were so far north you went over the Hindenburg Line.

Claude shrugged his shoulders. Guess I got a little lost.

"You lost? That’s hard to believe. You keep telling us you’re the real ace of our squadron. Albert grinned at his ribbing of Claude. Anyway it isn’t a smart idea going over the Hindenburg Line."

I know, Claude bristled. I know, he sullenly repeated. Listen, I’ll see you guys back at the shacks. I’m turning in. He trudged toward the barracks at the edge of the field.

Albert turned his attention to Pauline. I said a little prayer in hopes you’d come.

Pauline beamed as she eased up beside him. You asked me to come, didn’t you? For a moment the war didn’t exist for the two of them. The sound of another aeroplane broke the silent speech between their eyes.

Albert cleared his throat. We’d better help the corpsman. Both of them captured another split second of intimacy and then focused on assisting a man from the back of Albert’s aeroplane. White strips of a cotton bandage were coiled around his right hand but his drab brown and black plaid wool coat and beret indicated he was a laborer rather than a soldier.

Jenny leaned into Pauline. Who is this guy? No uniform?

Albert, overhearing Jenny, answered. He’s a guide who helps us with communication on the Hun side of the Front and helps us get our wounded and those separated from their units behind the trenches back to… The sound of a third aeroplane whined through the clouds cutting off the rest of Albert’s sentence.

What? Jenny yelled, but the guide was already shouting instructions.

When this machine lands we need to get to the Colonel at headquarters right away. His accent was French but his English was faultless.

Before she looked away to the incoming aeroplane Jenny studied the guide. His baby face told her he was close to her age, but the furrowed lines embedded in his forehead below his beret, and the way he carried himself, indicated he was mature beyond those years.

The third aeroplane glided in. When the wheels hit the mud, it stopped instantly but did not tip forward onto its propeller or slam into the mud. Instead the machine slowly eased itself down on its tail skid.

Albert gave a low whistle, "Now there is the real ace of the squadron."

Jenny stared at the pilot who jumped from the front cockpit. A broad grin erupted from beneath the leather flying helmet and goggles. The rest of what would reveal of this man was covered by the bulky long leather overcoat of an American airman. He rushed to the back of the aeroplane to talk to the man slouched into the gunlayer’s seat.

The man vaulted over the top and out of the cockpit to the ground. Like the guide before him, he wore a wool coat and beret, but he had no visible bandages. Immediately the first guide hurried over to the man and the pilot.

The pilot yelled over his shoulder. Hey Fillmore! Come here for a moment. Albert ran to the front of the aeroplane, where the other three men stood. The four conferred in hushed tones, leaving Jenny, Pauline and Corporal Hamilton wondering what they should do.

Jenny thought she heard ‘MI six’ and ‘rush’ but she was not sure.

Albert and the other pilot walked toward Jenny, Pauline and Corporal Hamilton. These two need to be rushed to Colonel Andrews at headquarters, Albert stated.

But we’re only supposed to take wounded in the ambulance to CCS, Corporal Hamilton hesitantly stated.

I know, corpsman, but this is an exception, Albert explained. And you are to tell everyone who asks, that is everyone, the two men that Lieutenant Morgan and I flew back had minor injuries and that you were able to treat them yourselves and send them back to the Front with their British units.

Corporal Hamilton didn’t need any additional explanation. Lieutenant Fillmore and Lieutenant Morgan were officers. He was not. His drive to headquarters would take a couple more hours out of his night. He was tired and the sooner he started the trip the sooner he would be in his bed. He walked back to the ambulance to start the engine.

Jenny listened intently. Tired as she was, sleep was the furthest thing from her mind. This was not what Pauline and Maggie had explained to her the night before as to what they would be doing. She wanted to know what she was ankle deep in, besides the ever-present French mud. She looked from Albert to the other pilot. She was fascinated how composed the pilot stood.

Albert’s attention was directed at Pauline. I can’t explain much more at this time but I can tell you this. When we got to the church things began happening fast. The plan completely changed. Usually the men we are going to fly back are waiting in the church sanctuary. When Joseph and I landed we were taken underneath the church to the wine cellar. We didn’t even know the cellar existed. Once down there we met these two men. We were told they needed to get to our side of the Front as quickly as possible. Claude was late and arrived at the church after us. He picked up a wounded man and left. We were still in the cellar and never saw him. I’m surprised he barely beat us back since he took off a good forty-five minutes before us, Albert mused. Anyway, that’s all we can say right now.

Pauline tilted her head back to search Albert’s eyes. Albert…Lieutenant Fillmore?

Pauline, it’s alright, but remember, you can tell no one. He reached over and touched her arm. We’ll see each other soon. He interrupted his own thoughts knowing they were not alone. He shook his head to bring his thoughts back to the other people around them. Oh, have I introduced my friend, Lieutenant Morgan? We met at Gosport Field, Texas, when we were both learning to fly. He’s just come from an observation group at Flin to our bomber group. This is Nurse Pauline Pearl and… he thought for a moment, cocked one eyebrow, and then continued, and you must be Nurse Jenny Drake who Pauline talks so much about.

Jenny’s blush was hidden by the night. Yes, I’m Jenny Drake.

Lieutenant Morgan pushed his goggles up. His deep brown eyes sparkled at the two women. Glad to meet you. He nodded, his grin barely restrained as he fixed his eyes on Jenny. Very glad.

We’ve got to get going, Corporal Hamilton yelled from the ambulance. The two aeroplane passengers ran to the ambulance, hurdled a small carrier pouch into the back and jumped in after it.

Corpsman! Albert yelled, helping Pauline into the back. Put these two nurses off at CCS before you go to headquarters.

Yes sir! Corporal Hamilton yelled back.

Jenny carefully put her left foot upon the high, wet step. Let me, Lieutenant Morgan offered. He steadied her by one elbow. His touch gave Jenny an unexpected shiver and her foot slid off the slippery step. From inside the two men grabbed her flailing free arm and jerked her into the back of the ambulance. Their sudden yank launched her into Pauline, who sat on a stretcher. Both went sprawling to the mud-covered floor. Realizing all their dignity was splattered in wet, French soil, they both laughed uncontrollably. Their laughter spread to the men as Corporal Hamilton jerked the ambulance away from the aerodrome.

Within the hour Jenny and Pauline were back at the Causality Clearing Station in their tent. Maggie was not in her bed when they arrived. Jenny and Pauline surmised she must have stayed in the ward after they brought in the wounded French pilot. Jenny was so tired she fell onto her cot still fully clothed. Immediately slumber overtook her as the dancing, dark eyes of Lieutenant Joseph Morgan flooded her head.

CHAPTER TWO

JUNE 1918

They’re calling us Devil Dogs, you know, the young marine excitedly bubbled to Jenny. His khaki uniform shirt, torn down to his waist, exposed strips of white field dressing bandages covering his torso. The Fourth Marine Brigade, we’re the best. We’ve got them running from the trees at Belleau Wood. The morphine given to him by the stretcher bearer had not put him to sleep but numbed his pain just enough to made him talkative. I was there from the beginning. He smiled at her. I wish I was there now with the rest of the boys pushing those Huns back to Germany. I just zigged when I should have zagged. Caught me some Hun bomb metal right here. He pointed to the left side of his chest.

Jenny lifted the bandage to assess his condition. The shrapnel had torn a chunk from his flesh but the stitches put in at the Advanced Dressing Station were going to do the trick. It looks like you’ll be back fighting the Huns in a couple of days.

Her words encouraged him. Thank you, ma’am.

Before she moved to the next stretcher, Jenny gathered her thoughts. It had been two days since her great adventure to the aerodrome. She and Pauline passed quick glances to each other when Maggie brought the night up but said nothing about the two secretive men Lieutenant Morgan and Lieutenant Fillmore had flown in. Maggie, on the other hand, continued non-stop about Lieutenant Omar. According to Maggie, they had managed to have a secret tryst of their own later that night.

Jenny was thankful the endless convoys of ambulances that carried wounded men from Belleau Wood were slowing down. The long days stretched into each other and the medical staff could only put their heads down on a desk or empty stretcher for a couple of minutes sleep at a time.

She looked at the men around her and was glad she was finally outside on triage. It meant she would be able to give a little comfort to the men before they moved on for further treatment. But it also held the responsibility that if the stretcher bearer didn’t have time to appraise a soldier’s wounds before he got to the Casualty Clearing Station, she would quickly need to evaluate the injury, write it down on a piece of paper that served as a label and pin it to the soldier’s tunic.

She moved from stretcher to stretcher, checking each soldier’s aluminum identification tag that hung from a cord around his neck. Usually she needed to wipe off mud and grime to read his name, rank, serial number, unit and religion so she could carefully write down the information. Then she checked his label and recorded the date and nature of his injury. Some stretchers held men who wanted to talk; on other stretchers men lay still, not wanting to say anything. But almost all of them wanted a smoke and someone to give them a little soothing. The last stretcher she checked held a soldier who seemed to be asleep. Gently she put her fingers on his wrist to feel his pulse. Slow, but steady. Rest well, soldier, she whispered.

Stretching her stiff neck before going back into the ward tent she looked up. Patches of sunlight pushed through the grey clouded sky. I wonder where Lieutenant Joseph Morgan is right now? She strained to see through the holes in the clouds. Lord, fly with him.

Huh? A strange voice asked.

Jenny turned and realized she was not alone. Two medical orderlies, who had stepped out of the ward to grab a quick smoke, were right behind her. Oh nothing. Just talking to myself, she answered, slightly embarrassed that they might have overheard her talking to God about Joseph.

Oh, the orderly shrugged nonchalantly and tuned back to his friend. They lit up another cigarette and continued their conversation. Walking away, Jenny heard their muffled speech about their trip the night before to Toul and dancing with the nurses from the hospital at Nancy.

Inside the ward tent she found a small table by a window. She was relieved to have a couple of minutes to herself to finish her paperwork. The sun streamed through the dirty window onto her paper, giving it a yellow glow. In the distance the booming salvos and drum fire of the guns rumbled. She loosened the cord securing her tin hat and let the protective covering slide off her head onto the table. She replaced it with her white nurse’s cap.

From the back of the ward Jenny heard the musical notes of a harmonic playing a favorite song, I wonder Who’s Kissing Her Now. The quiet reminder of home mellowed the atmosphere.

Hey! one of the orderlies yelled. Play something happy.

Yea, came a chorus of men’s voices.

The harmonica player quickly adapted to his audience’s request. Without missing a note, he slipped into the melody that Jenny had heard so many times on the boat coming to France. Before long everyone in the ward who could was singing or mouthing the words.

"Over there, over there!

Send the word, send the word, over there!

That the Yanks are coming, the Yanks are coming,

The drums rum-tumming ev’rywhere!

So prepare, say a prayer, send the word, send the word

to beware!

We’ll be over, we’re coming over,

And we won’t come back ‘til it’s over, over there!"

Slurring the last note of the song, the harmonica player began playing the first