A Soldier's Little Girl

Starting the Journey

It was a chilly evening in August as I smoked my cigar on the front steps of the house. I could smell a delicious aroma as  my wife, Marta, was making sirloin in the kitchen for dinner. I took a good look at the neighborhood around me knowing I wouldn't see it for a long time. I sat down on the steps and pondered my latest choices. As I dozed off, I heard Marta call for me for dinner. I took a deep breath, stood up, and pulled down my uniform's jacket as I walked into the house. My daughter, Amálie, was already seated at the table. We all were quiet at dinner; the three of us all knew that we wouldn't have meals like this for a long time.

  I thought about the family I was leaving. Amálie was six years old, almost seven, and the most caring, smart, and beautiful child I have ever seen. She was shy around everyone, except for Marta and I, of course. Amálie was the spitting image of her mother. They both had long, silky blonde hair and dazzling blue-green eyes. They were both also beautiful on the inside as well. Marta volunteered the little free time she had to cooking at the local soup kitchen. Amálie made cards for the homeless and visited the elderly in the hospital. I couldn't have asked for a better family. Everyday I am reminded how blessed I am when I wake up to Marta next to me and Amálie in the bedroom across the hall. 

Before joining the Czech military in 1937, I had been a carpenter. I had worked with different companies on and off, but I mainly did jobs around the neighborhood. It was a demanding job most of the time. A carpenter has to be really strong or he'll lose his job. Lifting is pretty much all a carpenter does. Brings bundles of wood up and down a ladder and repeats that all day. It had made me strong and built up my stamina, but I didn't enjoy it. Marta is concerned about income while I'm gone because the carpenter job didn't do in a lot of money. We both know that a 6 month pregnant woman can't work. I have to constantly reassure her that I am going to send back all of my earnings.

  After dinner, Amálie and I walked to the front door while Marta stayed in the kitchen to finish the dishes. Amálie looked up at me with tears welling up in her big, blue eyes. "Papa, please don't go," she cried as I picked up my bag. Marta watched from the kitchen as I put down my bag and tried to explain to our 6 year old that I was going away for a little while but would return home soon. "I'll tell you what swonechko," I said crouching down so we were eye to eye, "when I come back, I will bring you a surprise." She shyly looked at the ground trying, and failing, to make her smile less noticeable. "Ok papa." she answered.   

I gave Amálie a long, hard hug and reassured her that everything was well. I walked towards the kitchen to then say my goodbyes to my wife. Tears rolled slowly down her cheeks, but her face wasn't distorted as it usually is when Marta cried. I knew she didn't want Amálie to see her upset. I took her hands in mine and whispered in a low voice, "I will be back as soon as I can. Now you take good care of Amálie, the baby, and yourself. Ok? I love you, my dear." "But what if I have the baby while your away?" Marta asked in a concerned voice. "Then I'll have an even bigger family to come home to." I replied trying to lighten the mood. She smiled a bit and took my hand a placed it on her stomach. I felt a kick. That's our baby,  I thought. We locked eyes as my lip started to tremble. Marta pulled me in close and whispered softly in my ear, "You'll always be my hero." I broke down in her arms for a few seconds while Amálie went to her bedroom to get the card she had made me. When I heard her coming down the stairs, I quickly wiped the tears off my cheeks. " "Goodbye sweet swonechko. I love you with all my heart." I said to Amálie as she handed me her hand-drawn card with a Czech soldier on the front. "Goodbye papa. Come home soon." she answered now sobbing. I walked to the door, picked up my bag, and started my journey.