55The Heart of a Soldier: Rewritten
~Chapter 1: Radio~
A petite figure leaned against the wallpapered drywall of a hallway. A shadow, owned by the figure, crept curiously around the end of the hall. A part of her didn't want to eavesdrop to listen to their harsh words, but she couldn't help herself.
She recalled to earlier that day as their argument continued. It was sweltering hot, so hot that sweat was running down the space between Esther's thin cotton sundress and the crease in her back. Little did she know one day that healthy crease would be replaced by the harsh bones of her vertebrae.
The Fussilade family's radio made of wood was sitting on the porch handle rail. When her father told the story of the heirloom radio, he would say that dust from the early Dustbowl days was still in the cogs. Esther's grandparents would sit around and listen to the reassuring words of President Roosevelt as they hoped the country would make a drastic change for the better. With this in her mind, she felt somewhat thankful for the lack of a breeze as it was much better than the horrific winds of the 1930's.
The heat was so intense on the Fussilade family homestead in Grand Island, Nebraska that the clothes Esther had washed were dry before she could even clasp a wooden pin over their seams. Perfidia, orchestrated by Glenn Miller was playing softly, and Esther thought of how horrible it would be to get her heart broken. The song, about an unfaithful relationship, made her thankful she didn't have one. But if it was up to her grandmother, she would be married with four kids like she was 'by the old age of 17'. Esther scoffed at the thought of bearing children, when she hadn't even courted a boy yet.
Finding a man to marry was a difficult feat at the time. Pearl Harbor had been attacked seven months earlier, so most of the men her age and above were shipped off to defend freedom. Days and weeks would pass by, and more gold stars would hang in the front room window of the houses in the small Nebraska town. Boys she went to grade school with, gone forever. Some were lost in Europe, others the Pacific theatre. She still remembered exactly where she was living and breathing when the radio broadcast announcing the ambush and the declaration of war began.
"We will not only defend ourselves to the uttermost, but we will make it very certain, that this form of treachery shall never again endanger us." She recalled the president's strong words during his speech the following day of the attack. The country was now submerged into a world
war.
A LIFE advertisement crackled to life on the FM radio, the classically voiced man spewing some glorified text about a group called the paratroopers. It was an all new method in warfare, men jumping from planes to ambush the enemy. It sounded impossible, ridiculous almost, but for some odd reason Esther was intrigued by the idea of actually 'flying.' So she paused her chore of drying the delicate clothing, and listened in intently.
"These men are paid 50 dollars more a month than the average infantryman. This is because they are the elite of the elite. Only the best soldiers can make it as a paratrooper. Visit your town's recruiter and join today!"
Esther's lips curled into a pleased smirk, "Hmm, 50 dollars extra a month? Sounds nice to me. Heck, maybe that would help Dixie get into a nice university."
But then, as she pinned the last sundress to the clothesline, she realized that something was very wrong with this idea. She was the wrong gender. A she and not a he. But with the crazy idea planted firmly in her brain, Esther was determined to become a bigger part of the war effort. To do something bigger than pouring black powder into bombs, and something more than just complying with the ration system. Esther wanted to be there, doing something she could see the effects of.
"Esther?" The small voice of her little sister, Dixie, cried out. An orange creamsicle was dripping down her small, pale wrist. Dixie was sort of a delicate child; never spent much time outside, but always inside with their mother. Esther was the one who worked hard with her father and soaked up his encyclopedia of information and advice. Her skin was dark and leathery, even in the early days of the summer.
"Dixie, those are expensive!" Esther ran towards her small sister, apron in hand to wipe away the liquid sugar. If she did leave to be a soldier, she was afraid Dixie wouldn't be able to take care of herself. "Hurry now, lick it up before it's all melted."
Quickly she clicked the worn knob on the radio and shut off the ending words of the LIFE advertisement. She patted her sister on the back and guided her into the swamp cooled house.
Esther was snapped back into reality by the loud sound of her father's beer bottle slamming against the oak table. She blinked hard to snuff out the hot tears threatening her eyes. Suddenly a pair of delicate arms with a severe lack of muscle, wrapped tightly around her hips. Dixie was too short, even at the age of 9, to hug her older sister's waist.
"What's going on?" Esther felt Dixie's lips whisper into the thin cotton of her dress, translated into the skin of her thigh. Of course it was confusing to this child, who's parent's never raised their voices in argument. A ping of guilt zapped Esther's heart, knowing that she shouldn't have even voiced her idea of becoming a paratrooper to her father, as they worked in the garden.
"I say if she wants to go, let her go!" Her father bellowed at her mother.
Her mother's shadow showed a shaking head in disagreement. "You only want her to go because she's the closest thing you've ever had to a son. And you want to be like all your friends and be proud you have a son fighting in the war."
She was right. Esther was the one who weeded the garden, and changed the oil in the old farm truck after changing out of her Sunday best. She was the one who went hunting with her father on Saturday afternoons in late October, and rowed the boat in the middle of spring when the fishing was at its prime.
Her father knew her mother was right too. "Fine then, I'll sign the papers. It only needs one signature anyway."
"You will not send my first baby into the war, Charles!" Her mother's voiced cracked with the threat of tears. Guilt and self remorse tugged at her heart. I should have not even mentioned it.
Dixie shook Esther, demanding her attention. She looked down at her sister with a worried glance. When she did, Esther's mass of hair flipped over her shoulder and tickled Dixie's lovable face. Dixie let out a small giggle, causing Esther's short finger to fly up to her lips, to hush the child in order to listen to her father's rebuttal.
But there wasn't a negation and finally they had stopped their yelling, and all that could be heard was her mother gasping for breath. Had they made some sort of decision?
The silence was broken before she could even appreciate it. "Esther!" Her father yelled with gritted teeth, followed by the sound of his beer being drained empty.
Esther timidly came out from the shadows to face her parents, with a small girl on her hip. Dixie clutched on her hair, eyes wide with reaction from the rare uprising.
"Dixie, go to your room."
Dixie looked up at Esther, surprised, as he was never cross with her.
"Now," his loud and powerful voice stung Dixie's innocents. Esther let Dixie down, and she scurried off to her room. Now with her safety gone, she swallowed hard and looked towards her seething father and her tear-stained mother.
Her mother brought an embroidered handkerchief to her damp eyes and sighed to begin her spiel. "I guess it's not really up to me. You've always been your father's child. The recruiter will tell you weather or not you can join, at this point it's my only hope I won't loose my baby." She began to wail again, and Esther no longer felt the fire in her chest about joining the Army.
"We'll get you in one way or another. I know some people," he father declared. Esther walked hastily towards her father and embraced him. He smelled like he always did at this time of night. Like a hint of sweat from the hard days work and the ale of choice that night.
"Thank you," she mumbled into his chest, not quite understanding what had just happened. She then went to her mother and took in the sweet smell of her blonde hair. The scent that comforted her as a small child would not be there in war. The thought of homesickness had never crossed her mind when that advertisement was on.
Dixie timidly shuffled into the kitchen, with her teddy bear clutched in her arms. Esther motioned her over and she perched on her hip once again, with spindly legs wrapped around her waist. The innocent child with bright doe eyes was still blind to what just happened.
B.o.B.
Lazy morning light poured through her lace curtains, falling on the pair of sisters. Dixie had decided to sleep with Esther that night. Esther didn't mind though, because Dixie's stream of questions put a stopper to her own.
Esther's bedroom door opened loudly, followed by the excited breathing of a man she recognized as her father. He was dressed in his letter carrier's uniform, a piece of paper clutched in his hand. It was shaking slightly, but his face was bright with the look of achievement.
"Esther!" He shook her even though she was wide awake already. "I know a guy who knows a guy, who knows the colonel of the 506th Parachute Infantry Regiment." The words meant absolutely nothing to Esther- yet. "And I made a few calls here and there, and made some very convincing speeches. They want you! They want to see how a woman could handle being a paratrooper. They'll take your picture and all that, slap that nice face of yours on some posters and get the women here swarming to the factories. You'll be a military experiment, of sorts."
Esther could hardly contain her excitement, and now understood why her father's hands were shaking, as now hers were too. All through life, they had always strived towards the same things together.
"One problem," he dramatically paused. "You have to wait two months until your 18th birthday in August. So, you'll be a little behind in training. But Colonel Sink doesn't want any more risks. A 17 year old male in the Army is breaking a rule, but a woman is crossing the line." He quickly looked at his wristwatch, "Shit, I'm 2 clicks late already. Got to go, my girls."
With a wave over his shoulder, her father left. Esther felt Dixie writher closer to her back, the sun glowing against her blonde hair even brighter now. She knew Dixie always took her time processing things, and Esther herself was having a difficult time understanding what had just been said and done.
"You're leaving me?"
Esther rolled over to look at Dixie. "I not leaving you, babe. I've got a big responsibility to take care of."
"If you hadn't heard that thing on the radio, you wouldn't have such a big res-res-bonsability." Dixie tried to sound angry, but her difficulty with the large word made it hard to take seriously. Esther hadn't realized that Dixie had heard the broadcast yesterday.
She brushed back the bed head hair against Dixie's clammy brow. "Nothing is set in stone yet, baby girl."
And then Sink realizes that putting a woman in the Airborne was a bad idea and The End. Just kidding! Hey, at least this is a little better than my original first chapter where she is just suddenly at Camp Toccoa like it's no big deal. Imagination is appreciated. :)
So, rewritting- Some things will remain the same, but expect many new changes! No more Mary-Sue Esther, no more disrespect to the actual Easy Co. veterans and less historical inaccuracies. The early chapters I expect will change more than the later ones (because my goodness my writing was even worse then than it is now)
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