I was one of five women chosen to serve our country, fighting side by side with the men, and only some of us had come home. Being surrounded by friends and enemies, having to choose who you can save, who you can love, and how to survive is something...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
After our final year in England caring for the returning wounded soldiers, Anne, Darla, and I were finally able to go back home to the states. After everything we had seen and everything we had been through, the three of us were ready to leave behind the country we were forced to call home and return to the one we thought of as a distant memory.
On the plane ride back to the States, Darla sat beside me as I gazed out the small window, taking in the puffy white clouds we soared above. She coyly asked, "So... when we return home, when are you going to have that pie with me?"
A small smile graced my lips at the memory, forcing me to tear my sights away from the pillowy clouds to face her. "As soon as we land, if you'd like."
She returned the smile but there was a hint of worry behind her eyes as she studied me. "You've changed, Em."
The memory of Heyliger telling me not to change because of the war came rushing back causing the smile on my face to falter a little. "Why do you say that?"
"You've never chosen to talk about your past before. It's...well," she bobbed her head side to side briefly, "let's just say it's different," she admitted.
I couldn't argue with her. Even though I didn't feel different necessarily, I knew I changed in a lot of ways from the person I was when we started training to the person I was now. Darla, of course, would be the one person in the world who noticed those changes.
During the long flight home, Darla and I discussed what our plans would be once we landed. We agreed the most important tasks at hand were to look up Charlotte's and Sarah's families to tell them what happened. I knew this would be one of the most difficult things we would ever have to do but I also knew Darla would know exactly what to say as she was always the best at comforting those around her.
I felt the dagger in my heart twist painfully at the thought that the pair of them dying was my fault, especially knowing I was responsible for Sarah's demise. I struggled with the decision on whether or not I should mention that to her parents but Darla advised me not to. The feeling of overwhelming guilt rested on my shoulders, pressing down on me the more I wondered what the right choice was. I couldn't shake the feeling of responsibility for her death away as I continued to believe that if I hadn't run away and joined the military, Sarah would still be alive. Darla asked me how I could be so certain - even if Sarah hadn't been ambushed by the Lerner brother with the German forces - would she really have survived the war itself? Darla asked me the tough questions - the questions I should have been asking myself but wasn't.
Charlotte's death wasn't my fault - Speirs told me as much - but there was a small part of me that often wondered how truthful he had been in that regard. I wondered if he told me it wasn't my fault because he didn't want me to beat myself up over losing two of my friends who could have potentially survived simply if they didn't know me. Darla mentioned that Speirs wasn't one to sugarcoat anything and didn't believe he would intentionally lie to me about something like this.
