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Life IS history in the making. Every word we say, everything we do becomes history the moment it is said or done. Life void of memories leaves nothing but emptiness. For those who might consider history boring, think again: It is who we are, what we do and why we are here. We are certainly individuals in our thoughts and deeds but we all germinated from seeds planted long, long ago.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

Love is in the air...by Jennifer Davies

Today Awakenings is featuring another writer, Jennie @A Writer's Journey. When I read Jennie's story, I knew it needed to be reposted on Awakenings. So much history and connection to a love story from WWII.  

According to Jennie's post on her blog, this story was written on February 12, 2013 on the spur of the moment for a short story competition. Jennie, you certainly have my vote! 

Read it and weep...

My Angel  
by Jennifer Davies 




“Kenneth what’s so special about the picture? You stare at it for hours?”

Nurse Philips handed back the antique gold frame that held the treasured black and white photograph, biting her lip.

“I hope I’m not prying?”

Kenneth Thomas a ninety-two year old veteran held the frame in his shaky and sun mottled hands. Such a long time ago.

“It’s a picture of an angel!” He turned to stare straight into her face, his eyes unblinking.

Nurse Philips moved closer and peered over his shoulder.

“Where?”

He could remember the day as if it were yesterday. It was the Liberation of Paris, August 26th 1944 and he was sat astride a tank with several of his squadron posing for the cameras on D-Day on the Champs-Elysees. Smiling French ladies were hoisted up onto the tank especially for the magazine taking the shot of allied forces marching through Paris. The mood was euphoric.

“We were the conquering heroes that day. Strangers cheering, women throwing themselves at us in the streets, but I knew something was amiss. I could smell roses… roses were her favorites.” He coughed, spluttered and clutched at his chest.

“Mr. Thomas are you alright, you don’t have to explain?”

He patted her hand and carried on as if needing to tell his story,” Hitler’s army had just been chased out of Paris and we were celebrating. That’s me right there and that’s Mikey, Ginger and Scott. Good guys all of them. As I said the women were very pretty strangers and I didn’t see this photograph until much later, but there right beside me is Marion, she spoke to me.” His finger gently smoothed across the frame and a stray tear fell upon his cheek.

“She’s beautiful, who is she?”  

A pain radiated across his left arm and gripped his chest.”That raven haired beauty was my wife. We’d only been married four months when I left for Normandy. I was part of Operation Overlord. I left on the 6th of June 1944 along with thousands of troops and vessels. Two months it took for us to infiltrate their defenses on Omaha beach. Two months. Many died.  I barely made it but through it all I kept thinking of Marion and our child. Of how I must survive for their sakes. Her memory made me strong. The irony of course is that she died in childbirth. I didn’t know until after the war. Nurse, war is terrible, so much lost of life, so many horrific injuries. Terrible atrocities, things you can never forget. But throughout it all I felt her with me like a guardian angel right to the end.”

“Oh Mr. Thomas I’m so sorry that’s so sad. What happened to the child?”
 

He patted her hand seeing that she too was crying, “Its all right dear, we fell in love the moment we met in that dusty old book store in Devon. It was war time and everything was a rush. We married as soon as we could get a license. Of course I didn’t ship out straight away and believe you me we made a lifetime of memories in those short months. More than most have in a lifetime. She was the love of my life. I knew she was carrying my child before I went to Normandy. We choose the names together. Daniel, if it was a boy and Catherine for a girl.”

A throaty cough caught Kenneth and he paused his eyes watering.

“Kenneth take this.” She passed him a glass of cold water and he swallowed.

“Thank you. Anyway Daniel was born and I damaged these,” he slapped his legs in the wheelchair and rubbed his arm,” landmine in Lorraine. When I arrived home I had forgotten all about Marion and her family thought I had died. For a year she haunted me until finally I regained my memory and Daniel. He will be here this weekend. ”

A buzzer called the nurse away. A scent of roses wafted around Mr. Thomas, he took a deep breath and slumped back in his chair. He knew today she would visit him, the pain was unbearable and she had promised him she would visit again, when it was time.

It was time.

My angel.   

Happy writing x

Now that you have read the story, what about you? Would you cast your vote for My Angel?

Visit Jennie's blog, A Writer's Journey, and let her know what you think. She would greatly appreciate the visit. While there, indulge yourself in more of her writings!

Jennifer Davies