| Chapter 9 Langres, France ~ September 6th, 1914 All Christian heard was the wind. After Hal left for another camp in August, Christian had no one to even talk to. The men in his camp were loud, disgusting, and seemed to appreciate almost nothing in life. Christian had a hard time understanding how they could start huge brawls over a small piece of meat, or laugh and drink at night when their fellow soldiers were suffering. He had heard rumors of men being taken captive by the Germans, and he was in shock at how his camp seemed not to care one bit. �Hey soldier�� A deep, scratchy voice speaking with a thick cockney accent startled Christian. A tall, muscular man stepped rudely in front of Christian�s view of the sun breathing its last ounce of light into the sky. Christian slowly rose his gaze up to meet the gigantic man�s eyes. �Y-yes?� �We�re movin� out tonight, so you better get your pen and paper so you can write to you precious whore on the battlefield,� Philippe spoke with a mocking tone. A few snickers were heard from around the campfire behind Christian. �Don�t�don�t you ever say anything like that again,� Christian replied in an eerily quiet way. Philippe just walked away laughing, and Christian could do nothing but put his head down into his hands, closing his eyes hard. His body shook with anger, but he did not raise his fist against the man. Deep in his heart, a voice spoke to him telling him his true beliefs. No matter how much of a damn fool someone is, it won�t do any good to cause violence in this horrible place; he had learned that the hard way. Christian slumped back towards his tent and walked through the tiny entrance to, not surprisingly; find nothing but his equipment and writing supplies inside. He sighed and began putting on his helmet, and the rest of his uniform. As he buttoned the rest of his shirt up, he closed his eyes a brief moment, remembering a long ago memory. There was a man� �No problem, go back to work!� Toulouse was there�he was singing. Standing in the center of a Bohemian stage, Christian held tightly onto the person beside him, happier than he�d ever been in his life. �Children of the Revolution�� �One Day I�ll fly away�� He could listen to Satine sing for all of eternity. �My gift is my song!� he belted at the top of his lungs and from the bottom of his heart. �Come what may!� the entire world sang of truth, beauty, freedom and above all things, love. It had seemed like one moment ago, he had been arriving in Paris, and now everything was right in Christian and Satine�s mind. They sang out to each other, seeing their future lives together all at once. �I will love you�Come what may�Yes, I will love you�Until my dying�da-� �SOLDIER!� Christian opened his eyes to see yet another burly man standing behind him, with vulgar written all over his face. �I�ve told you once, and I�ll tell you again, SOLDIER�Get. In. LINE.� �I�I�m sorry. I�ll be out there soon, sir.� Christian waited until he left, and he took one last longing look at the picture sitting next to his pen and paper of Satine and himself on their wedding day. He blinked away a tear and made his way out to the battlefield for the first time. �MOVE!!� The word leaped into Christian�s head, moving his legs automatically. He took three steps, breathing heavily, and stopped to figure out exactly where he was going. A man who was running quickly past Christian grabbed him by the sleeve and pulled him to force Christian�s legs to begin running again. �Come on, soldier, get a move on it!� the gruff man shouted into Christian�s ear before abandoning him to shout into the dust and chaos. There were men and dirty uniforms everywhere, but all Christian could see were guns. Weapons. They dug into Christian�s mind and almost pushed him away from the battle; almost forced him to simply run away. The sky of gray covered the violent, massive battlefield like a dome. He felt trapped. But as he closed his eyes, picturing his bride, his life, Satine at home without him�he knew he had to find the will and fight. With a new fiery passion in his eyes, he opened them and began running with the troops, breathing through his mouth. Gunshots began firing through the air all at once, surrounding Christian�s shaking body. He stumbled from one place to another, automatically traveling away from wherever he heard a gunshot. Yelling�guns�voices�violence� Christian turned full circle, still trapped underneath, between and inside the madness around him. His left foot was stopped by something on the ground. Christian turned around and winced at a nearby gunshot once again. His still shaky hands reached down to see what he had almost stepped on. �Oh�oh God�� Christian whispered, barely even hearing himself. A body lay sprawled out on the ground, face up. Blood still trickled onto the dirt ground from the man�s back and his arms were spread out like an angel�s wings. Christian blinked away some dust, and squinted his eyes at the young man�s still face. �God�� he whimpered, realizing who lay dead before him. The only kind-hearted man Christian had met as a soldier during that awful war was killed. Tears formed at the bottom of Christian�s eyes, glistening a little. After a few moments, a grenade exploded 40 feet away from him, causing Christian to break out of his gaze. A thought occurred to him, and he reached deep down into his pocket and retrieved a poem he had written that morning. �Thank you, Hal�thank you,� he whispered. He put the piece of paper into Hal�s front pocket, and made sure it wasn�t going to blow away. A single tear rolled down Christian�s dirt-stained cheek. He had never kneeled by a dead person in his life, and it was a horrific experience. He put his head in his hands, and breathed out sharply, moving his finger and thumb to his eyes, pushing away more tears threatening to fall. �Retreat! Let�s go, we�re moving back!!!� Christian heard shouts all around him, and he found the will to stand up, and still in a daze, he began clumsily running back towards camp. His heart was racing, and he needed to get out. The gunshots began fading and Christian slowed to a walk, as did many of the men around him as they spotted their campground. He went straight back into his tent, and collapsed onto the cot, breathing heavily. �Satine�� he could only whimper slightly, rolling over with a pained expression on his face. He buried his head into his pillow and only fell asleep after pushing the images of the horrible day out of his mind, and replaced them with Satine. His breathing slowed to a normal pace, but his dreams were dancing in his subconscious. He did indeed dream of the truth, beauty, freedom, love of his life with Satine�but only along with the horrid effects of the war on Christian�s body, mind and soul. Reims, France ~ November 10th, 1914 Satine had been in training for more than three months and she had to admit that the constant instruction, along with carrying her child, who was due any day now, had completely and utterly drained her. As she stood in line with the rest of the trainees, she breathed a sigh of relief that the training was over, which was soon followed by a tightening in her chest; knowing she would soon have to face the horrors of war. Melinda Jefferson stood at a small table, handing out certificates to her girls who had worked so very hard for her these past three months. She stood beaming as she shook each woman�s hand. Satine was next and she stepped up to face Melinda�s warm smile when all of a sudden, she grasped her enormous stomach and let out a yelp. Her water broke and she could feel the hot, sticky liquid dripping down her legs. An audience was soon circled around Satine whose eyes were screwed shut at the dull cramping around her belly. Melinda shook herself from her state of shock and screamed for someone to fetch the doctor who was luckily, just upstairs in the building used to train the nurses. She and two other girls helped Satine to a nearby couch and her new good friend, Emma, held her hand tightly and whispered, �Everything will be all right. The doctor is coming.� She took a damp cloth being handed to her and wiped Satine�s forehead covered in perspiration. �You�re going to have a baby soon. Oh Satine, just get through this for us all right? We care about you and know you�ll do perfectly.� Satine nodded painfully and was thankful to at least have her new friends around her for support. Yet it broke her heart that the one person she needed couldn�t be by her side. �Christian,� she whimpered, as she felt another throbbing contraction. |