Chapter Seventeen

 

Langres, France ~ September 1st, 1915

 

Satine had slept with Christian that night despite the way he had treated her.  She still held his hands and loved listening to the sound of his heart beating.  She was unbearably worried about Christian and why he was pushing her away.

          The couple was sound asleep when all of a sudden an ear shattering explosion was heard.  Christian’s head snapped up and he practically shook off Satine as he pulled his gear on.  Just by the ferocity of the grenade that had just exploded, Christian could tell that the attack was happening very close by.

          Satine was also up in seconds, pulling her nursing uniform on.  She turned around and gasped when she saw Christian with a gun strapped to his side.  It scared her to see him with such a deadly weapon.

          “Be careful!” she cried towards him as he ran out to battle.  Christian nodded and went running and was soon lost in a haze of smoke and soldiers.

          ‘He didn’t even kiss me goodbye,’ thought Satine, genuinely hurt.  But she soon shrugged off the feelings and realized that he had lives in his hands and couldn’t be delayed by-

          “Me,” Satine choked.  “My husband…h-he can’t be delayed by me.”

******

          Christian let out a ragged cough as the thick dust and smoke filled his lungs.  His eyes burned and his head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton.  He was still clouded with sleep but was jolted awake as the first bullets were shot and whizzed dangerously close to his head.  He ran to a nearby trench and kneeled down with some of his fellow soldiers and closed his eyes tightly and fired his rifle.

          He would never get used to that horrible sound, or the way it jerked his whole body when he pulled the trigger.  Every time he aimed and fired, he secretly hoped that his lack of talent in sports and marksmanship would prevail and he would miss his target.  He never again wanted to sense that sickening feeling that he had encountered the first time he had taken a life.

          Christian noticed the soldiers begin to slowly disperse, taking the fight into even a wider radius.  The echo of death could be heard everywhere and it filled him to the point of feeling hypnotized by it.

          Still crouched inside the trench, he closed his eyes, pulled the trigger and became numb to it all as the blast knocked him backwards.  The smoke was so thick, that as he continued, he couldn’t even see the soldiers dropping like flies all around him.

 

Reims, France ~ April 20th, 1917

 

          “Come on, sweet girl.  Time to brush your teeth!” Satine said, knowing that this task wasn’t nearly as easy as it sounded.

          “No!” cried Sara defiantly.  They went through this same battle of wills every night at bed time.

          “Now darling, you know that you have to brush your teeth.  If you don’t, they will get stinky and fall out,” said Satine, biting her lip not to laugh at Sara’s wide eyes.

          “Bad taste!” Sara pouted, sticking out her tongue.

          Satine sighed.  “Sara, if you really love Mama, then you will come and brush your teeth.”

          Sara moped into the bathroom with Satine following close behind.  “Thank you, sweetheart.”  She noticed Sara’s tiny lips still forming a frown.  “Mama loves you so much,” she said, lightly tickling her sides.

          Sara burst into giggles as Satine lifted her onto her step stool, to reach the sink.  Satine took the small children’s brush in her hand and put a tiny squirt of the baking soda toothpaste onto it.  “All right, show me your monster teeth!” she said with added enthusiasm to make the job as painless as possible.

          Gritting her teeth and making her “Grr…” monster noise, Sara opened her mouth and let Satine brush.  She brushed carefully but also very quickly and as soon as she announced, “All finished!” Sara spit into the sink in disgust.

          Eww…Mama…” Sara whined.

          “Turn your hands into a cup, like I taught you,” Satine instructed.

          Sara cupped her hands under the tap and then swiftly slurped up the water.  After repeating this a couple times, she had water running all over her cheeks and chin.  Satine took a nearby towel and dried Sara off and gave her a light squeeze.  “Oh, I have such a grown up girl!” Satine exclaimed.

          Sara grinned, glad that she pleased her mother.  She then toddled out of the bathroom and made her way towards her bed.  Satine was always close behind; making sure her daughter was all right.  As she watched her slow, yet sure steps, thoughts of a time so dark for her that she didn’t even want to remember, invaded her mind.  Without thinking, she let out an involuntary shiver and whispered;

 

Once as the night was leaving… 

 

Langres, France ~ September 1st, 1915

 

After what seemed like an eternity, the shots and desperate cries began to cease and Christian slowly rose from his crouched position.  Slinging his gun back over his back, he decided to make his way back to camp to check in and say that he had made it.

          Walking back, he began to feel sick from the scattered dead bodies that he had to sidestep.  A few cautious steps later, he heard a quiet noise.  What sounded like a breathy moan was coming from somewhere on the ground near him.

          Christian squinted his eyes and after a few moments, his eyes came across the soldier, covered in dirt, much like he was.  The man was unconscious, but still breathing.  Christian knew that it was important to get back to camp, but couldn’t just leave the poor man here to die. 

          Christian leaned down, pulled the soldier to his feet and mustered the strength to hoist him across his shoulder.  He winced as he adjusted to the burden that the weight put on him, but was soon able to start walking.  Every few steps, he would lean his head back and listen to make sure the man was still breathing.  He seemed to be gaining strength. 

          All of a sudden, when Christian wasn’t but a half a mile from his camp, he felt the soldier come to and began, “I’ll get you to the infirmary, they’ll take care of-“

          “Fiend…” Enemy. The man choked out.

          “W…what?” Christian breathily spoke back, but as soon as he looked down into the man’s eyes, he saw pure hate.

          “FIEND!” 

The German soldier had gotten a hold of Christian’s gun and mercilessly rammed the butt of it into his knee.  He got down and ran as fast as he could back towards his own camp.

          Letting out a strangled cry, Christian fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.  “Help,” he muttered pitifully as the pain drove him into unconsciousness. 

 

 

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