Forbidden

Chapter 13

After an unknown length of time, things started dying down and orders came to retreat and head towards base. Catherine shot upward, wanting only to get out of this hell-hole. But as she made her way back the way they had came, she recognized one of the bodies lying at her feet. "NOOOOOOOO!!!"

Catherine snapped awake, breathing heavily, tears streaking down her face. Lily turned around in the bed beside her, unbothered by her sister's scream. Her mother, however, was a lighter sleeper, and her footsteps could be heard in the hall as they got closer.

"Catherine? Are you alright dear?" She asked, entering the room and sitting on her oldest daughter's bed.

"Yeah...just a bad dream. Go back to sleep." Catherine tried her best at a reassuring smile, but failed.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Goodnight mom." As her mother left the room, Catherine lay in her bed.

"What was the dream?" Lily's voice broke the silence, startling Catherine.

"Lily? I thought you were asleep?"

"Well, unless I can talk and hear conversations in my sleep, I'm very much awake." Catherine could hear Lily's smile as she spoke.

"Well, I dreamt that I was away with daddy, and that there was a big battle and..." The end of her sentence was choked by a sob.

Lily crawled out of her bed and slipped in beside her sister, cuddling up to her. "Do you think it could happen for real?" Fear and concern echoed in the young girl's voice, causing a tear to roll out of her big sister's eye.

Catherine switched on their lamp, looking her sister in the eye and holding her hands. "I don't know, Lily." She inhaled deeply, trying to slow down her irregular breathing. "Anything could happen. We'll have to wait and see, okay? But I promise you that if anything happens, we will all get through it together. No matter what happens, everything will be okay." She hugged her little sister, knowing she would have to be strong for her sake throughout whatever lay ahead. As Lily lay asleep beside her, Catherine tried to do the same, but sleep whisked away like a cloud of smoke.

Toms's departure had left a hole in the family life, but they got on as best they could with their day to day lives. John and Adam, in addition to their school work, chopped fire wood and did repair works around the house. Catherine kept on with her lessons, but took to taking more work to give her mother more breaks. She didn't mind it: on the contrary she welcomed the distraction from the thoughts jumbling up in her mind. Between chores, the NS and secret meetings with Peter, Catherine didn't have much time to stop and think, which she was perfectly happy with.

One day, about a month after Tom had left, Catherine came inside to her mother standing in the kitchen with a letter in her trembling hands. Catherine shook the light snow off her coat and took off her boots before joining Julia.

"What is that?"

"A letter from your father." Catherine's heart lept at her mother's words, and her mind raced at all the possibilities regarding the content of the letter.

"Do you want me to read it, mom?" Julia nodded, and Catherine oppened the envelope.

"Dear Julia,

First of all, know that I am safe. I unfortunately  cannot say where I am, but I'm sure you'll understand why. The only thing you need to know is that I am doing well. We aren't the main front line, more like backups if anything happens, so we shouldn't be getting into any big battles soon. Time is long, days are repetitive. We've set up camp near a river, and apparently there are fertile lands at some places on its banks, so we're thinking of starting a small garden to help with the food rations when spring comes, although we'll have to see what the land looks like and what's available in due time. Meanwhile, we spend time finding firewood to keep as warm as possible, but we don't want to make too many fires either in case the enemy is near and could see the smoke. To tell you the truth, even though life is sort of normal, never knowing when the next battle might start is a little scary. The wait, I think, might be worse than the actual battles, because in the adrenaline of the fight I expect it's easy to forget what you're doing and you get lost in the moment. Although I might be wrong, seeing as I've yet to experience battle.

One of the ways we keep busy is by playing sports.The conditions aren't the best, but it gives us something to do. We're doing a soccer tournement right now, and that helps time go by. We've divided teams and keep scores and everything. We play against every team, and when we'll have finished that we'll eliminate the ones with the lowest scores and so on. It isn't much, but at least we're moving and using our energy physically instead of mentally. We've played against 6 out of the 12 teams as of now, and we've won 4 of those games. I'll keep you updated on the scores.

In the evening, when the sun starts to set and it's too dark to play, we smoke and play cards or write to our families. One of the men with me, his wife is expecting a baby in a month or so. He says he hopes for a battle so he could get injured and be sent home for the birth of his child, but I doubt he really thinks that way. Before coming here he pleaded to at least delay his departure until after his wife gave birth, but the generals wouldn't allow it. He's probably the one who writes the most often: every day. He never plays cards with us, always spends his evenings writing letters to his wife. He must miss her a great deal. Of course, he's nervous because of the baby and writing daily probably soothes him, but I simply don't understand how it would change anything.

One of the things that strikes me most here is that life can almost feel normal at times. We search for firewood and chop it up, do a little bit of scavenging for any left over nuts or autumn fruit although they're rare, and we make sure our little base runs nicely. One of the tasks we have to do is cooking and the occasional laundry, although I always make sure I'm busy with something else. I'm aware that we're not in the comfort of our own homes but there are limits to asking a man to do house work.

I actually manage to forget where I am on some days. The food here is very basic. We get stale bread with boiled potatoes and a small chunk of salted meat, sometimes dried vegetables although those are rare.

The men I'm with are decent, too. The most interesting of them is one of the older ones, and he fought in the last World War. The stories he tells are quite amazing, all the times when he could've died but escaped. As charming as he is, however, I don't understand why he is back at war. Surely someone his age should stay at home. We have so many young boys around John's age who would be more suitable for the job. Granted he has the experience and knowledge, but I think strength and youth should be prized over wisdom in these types of situations.

The socks you made for me are very helpful, thank you. Regardless of how careful we are, our feet always get soaked because our boots aren't the best quality and the snow, mud and rain seep through anyway. Some men don't have many spare socks and well, let's just say their feet aren't a pretty sight. At least with extra pairs I can do rotations, and put the soaked ones to dry by the fire for a while.

How is everyone? Is John doing a good job as head man of the house? I'm sure he is, and with Adam there too I'm sure it's almost as if I never left. And Catherine, how are the lessons going? Have you managed to turn her into a suitable house wife yet, Julia? Her cooking was improving a lot when I was home, and I'm sure it will be even better by the time I get back. And Lily?

I miss you all dearly, hope everything is well, and write to me as soon as you can.

Love,

Tom"

A tear escaped Catherine's eyes and she instantly wiped it away, wanting to be strong for her mother, who was already weeping. Catherine lay the piece of paper back onto the counter, and circled around it to hug her mother.