Redemption - Leon Uris [198]
The dream of your home can also be blown out of proportion. Mixed among the hills and woods and fields is a deep hurt and anger against your father and his utter confusion of being able to do anything about it.
I find Christchurch massively dull without you knocking at my door. As much as I originally craved the peace I found here, I feel a more urgent need to get involved in this war. War always brings on shortages of nurses, and with my background there are a dozen offers I can choose from. I will be leaving here quite soon.
From the moment you left I began receiving letters almost daily from Calvin. He swears he has seen the light and mended his ways and he begs for a second chance. I can’t play it any way but straight with you, Rory, and God only knows what it’s like, when soldiers read this kind of letter.
This is good-bye. I’ll not be writing to you again. For us even to continue writing would be to foster illusions. Affairs are only chapters of a long life and no matter how deep they run, one eventually goes back to reality. Affairs are not reality.
I do not fear writing you because I know what you’re made of and I know you will sail through this and open wide the full and extraordinary life that lies ahead of you. I say this with a lump in my throat, but I also know that the right woman is waiting for you out there and that you’ll find her before long.
Whether I love you or Calvin the most is not the issue. I married him. I made vows. He broke his vows. But…I broke mine as well. All human beings, ourselves included, do our share of sin and ill deeds. But marriage is still marriage. For me not to forgive a husband facing battle who pleads for forgiveness, is beyond my capacity.
I loved every minute of it with you, but it is over.
Georgia
Rory toughed it out, determined not to let it take him down. Bad news from home was killer stuff. He made himself believe he’d weather it. Hell, Georgia was right. He knew how she loved him, but as she had told him on that final morning, “It was never on between us.”
The initial pain was dulled by a climb to the top of a pyramid by moonlight and a bottle of deplorable Egyptian wine.
For morning after morning he awoke to remembering the letter, reading it again, bullying through the day, and turning fierce energy into the mule manual. One morning, he just plain knew he was going to keep on living.
There were a few corrections to make in the manual. Rory marked them carefully and jotted a requisition.
MAKE CORRECTIONS INDICATED AND PRINT THREE COPIES ONLY. RETURN THEM TO PIG ISLAND AND GET SIGNATURE.
FIRST SJT. RORYLANDERS, 7TH NZLIGHTHORSE.
He put it in the message center basket, looked about the office and secured it, flicked off the light, and locked the door.
There was a light down the hall coming from Lieutenant Hubble’s office. “Probably forgot to turn it off,” Rory mumbled. He stepped in to see Lieutenant Jeremy with his face buried in his folded arms on the desk. Rory turned to go, then decided not to and cleared his throat.
Jeremy lifted his head. He looked awful. Rory closed the door behind him. “You all right, sir?”
“Hell, no,” Jeremy answered.
Rory saw a letter on the desk, apparently the object of Lieutenant Jeremy’s discomfort.
“Shall I go, sir?”
“No, no, no, sit down, Serjeant. Anything going on?”
“I made a final check of the manual. Looks fine. I ordered three copies printed, one for us, one for the Major, and one to submit to Dr. Ellsworth at Corps Should I hold that one up?”
“Major Hubble is at staff school. He won’t be back for several days, much to the battalion’s sorrow, I’m sure. No, we can’t lose any more time. Send a copy through to Corps, I’ll explain it to the Major.”
“Yes, sir.”
“So it’s really finished. Great job, Serjeant.”
“We’ve got a super little squad, even…well, never mind.”
“That asshole Yurlob?” Jeremy said.
“Well, let’s put it this way. He’s good. The soldiers in this battalion will still be packing mules in their sleep when they are old