Butterfly Serials 2.2

D-Day Nurses & Red Cross Sisters; Butterfly 2.2

© 2024 by Amber Wright

June 1973.

Another sleepless, jetlag night so Bibi Jacobs pulled out her stack of war diaries. D-Day. She definitely had to see what happened there.

Date: D-day 1944

Place: Normandy beaches

The unexpected had always happened.

“It's a girl!” the nurse told them with a bright smile.

“But Rebecca said she was having a boy!” Grandma insisted, glaring down at the blue baby outfit she'd knitted. “It's a boy!”

“You'd think she was the way she screams,” the nurse laughed. “You can come see her now.”

And so—in a little town called Madison, Indiana—Dianasky Rebecca MacArthur came screaming into this world on May 22, 1923. She thought it was pretty exciting, frightening everyone with her wails and drinking warm milk until she fell asleep every twenty minutes. She could get used to this.

In 1938 Diana and her family moved to New York City, New York. There she met her two forever best friends, Nan and Sandy.

In 1942 all three families moved to Madison, Indiana.

In 1943 all three girls joined a Red Cross nursing unit, and in January of 1944 after a happy Christmas the girls went to war torn England.

After five months of adventures without a scratch, it was now June and the big counter attack on Nazi occupied France was well planned out and Diana could hardly wait to go. Obviously, the girls had to keep it hush hush because they knew things no one else knew. They were Mrs. Joan's girls.

They'd been flown to Ireland in late April for a few weeks of extra training at the Butterfly Girl Club, Mrs. Joan's secret name for her detective unit. They'd stayed in a huge, rambling castle full of secret tunnels and trained in the art of secrets.

Blonde haired Diana had passed with flying colors. She had a nose for mysteries and solving problems, and thrived where there was something complicated to figure out. So many adventures. So many happy adventures!

On June 5, 1944 Diana sat with Nan and Sandy in a cafe while the rain pattered outside on the cobblestone street. Today's mission had been canceled due to the weather. Hopefully tomorrow would be better weather so the big day could go on as planned.

“MacArthur!” red head Sandy's sunny voice split the gloomy air. “A pence for your thoughts!”

“MacDonald, stop shouting or the whole village will hear you,” Diana shushed her.

“I asked you if you're done with your tea?”

Diana nodded, too tired to speak. “What time are we boarding the boat?”

“Early! I want a seat!” Sandy said excitedly, like they were going on a boating trip to Long Island back in New York during their teens.

Nan drained the last of her hot tea in the pink floral cup. “May as well get in line now. I don't feel like sitting on the floor like last time.”

On their way to the docks, they passed so many faces with scared eyes. The soldiers who were about to die. The civilians who could be invaded by the Nazis at any time. The nurses who would face death and disease. Everyone was scared and hopeful. What would tomorrow bring? Victory or defeat?

“Hurry up, Di!” Sandy called from ahead of her.

“Or we have to face our dear Dr. We-Know-Who by ourselves,” Nan the brunette faked a whine.

Diana laughed and walked faster to catch up with the girls. Sometimes I wonder if Nan would rather face Hitler himself over Dr. Holtz! I will admit, that man can roar as ferocious as an African lion! Oh, why does it always have to rain to cancel my big events?

When they'd moved to New York City, all the streets were flooded. One of her books had rolled from the truck and she'd had to hang it on the line to dry. Still, some of the pages were blurred.

Suddenly, a puddle of rainwater splashed all over her feet. Diana jerked her head up to see the driver of the motorbike flash her a big grin.

“You should've waited for a bigger puddle so you could drench me better!”

The guy in uniform laughed. “Sorry, just getting my buddies here. Are you alright though?”

“I'll survive. I have to catch up with my gals. Take care of yourself!”

“Keep safe yourself! See you later!”

Later? What was he going to do—stalk her to the moon to find her again? Diana rushed to join the girls who were smirking and waiting for her to catch up. She gave them a glare to silence them and they hurried in line for the boat.

• • •

Diana squinted her blue eyes in the early light of morning. Sergeants barked their orders below deck and a smog was gathering across the shores of Normandy where the fighting had started.

“Diana?” Nan's voice shook. “We're here.”

“At last! I wanted so bad to get here and now,” Diana let her sentence hang as the battle grew noisier and soldiers started to drop.

The mass of battleships looked like a parade.

The sky buzzed with fighter planes.

The girls gripped the rails as they watched.

“It's no pretty sight to see,” Diana sighed.

“Certainly not cheerful either,” Nan agreed.

“I'm scared,” a girl called Flo Robinson stood beside them, staring at the beach, biting her nails with big green eyes.

Diana put an arm around the 18 year-old girl, who was the youngest in their unit. “Flo, always remember Psalms 34:7. The angel of the Lord encampeth about them that fear him, and delivereth them. God will protect us.”

“Just think!” Nan said excitedly. “The angels are all right around us! We just can't see them!”

“I feel like Gehazi now,” Diana agreed. “At first he couldn't see the chariots of fire or the army of God. Don't worry, Flo. There's more with us than with them, if we can just look with our eyes of faith.”

“I feel better now,” Flo looked more relaxed but still wore a thoughtful frown. “But how many men out there are being mutilated by the Nazis?”

Nan scrubbed at her eyes. “Ugh! That smoke is getting all the way over here, it stinks!”

“Death stinks,” Diana scrubbed at her own eyes.

A missile screamed its way to a nearby ship.

Flo started sobbing. Diana and Nan put their arms around Flo and exchanged worried looks.

“We'll take care of you, Flo. Won't we, Di?”

“Yes, we will. So don't you worry.”

“I'm not worrying about myself,” Flo stood up straight. “It's my cousin. He's in the fight, some place I don't know. He's not a Christian. I'm just scared he'll die and I'll never see him again.”

More men were shoving off in little boats from the ship. Soon more men would die.

“In that case,” Diana joined hands with Flo and Nan. “Let's pray for your cousin, Flo, and every man and boy unsaved out there that we can't reach.”

The girls bowed their heads and quietly prayed for Flo's cousin and all of Uncle Sam's boys out there in the fight, and when they had finished even fearful Flo was smiling.

It had made a difference, just one little prayer.

“Orders!” Sandy walked up to them. “We go ashore in five minutes!”

• • •

Dr. Holtz rowed them ashore with the energy of a lion and just as loud. He loved shouting orders. He was straight off the boat from South Africa.

“Now don't be cowering weasels when we get there, girls!” He yelled at them over the waves.

Sandy rolled her eyes.

No wonder he's single, Diana thought with a huff, studying the landscape. Blue waters and foaming waves filled the horizon. Small cliffs rose over the beach and they landed in an obscure cove where no bullets were showering down.

A truck picked them up and brought them to a village closer to the fighting. They stopped in front of a gigantic ancient building that looked ready to crumble apart. This would take a lot of bleach to bring it to Diana MacArthur's standards.

Within hours, the place was fixed for operation.

The first load of wounded guys came in.

“Here goes,” Diana muttered as Dr. Holtz roared away in one of the rooms down the hall.

There was so much noise and commotion.

“Where am I?” a guy called Brad Dinar shouted, trying to get up off his cot. “Let me go!”

“Don't excite yourself,” Sandy was trying to calm him down. “You've lost a lost of blood.”

“And?”

“No limbs but,” Sandy patted his shoulder, “you almost lost your life. Bullet nearly tore your heart out, just missed hairs from the main artery.”

Brad stared.

“You alright, Dinar?”

Brad nodded, “I—I just need some time alone.”

“Yes, sir.” Sandy moved along the cots.

Diana swallowed the lump in her throat. One of their prayers for Uncle Sam's boys had already been answered. A life had been saved.

“When I see the Blood,” Nan came into the room with an armful of linen, singing. “I will pass, I will pass over you.”

Diana rushed out of the room to have a little cry in a cleaning closet. It was all too much.

Grabbing some cleaning supplies from the medicine cabinet, Diana went back to the ward to clean Brad's shoulder.

“Where's Dinar's cot?” Diana asked Nan who was still singing and changing empty beds with fresh linens. “I can't concentrate too well right now. Too much reading. Brain's blurring!”

“Ten cots down to the right,” Nan replied.

“Hello Brad, I'm your assigned nurse and I'm here to clean your wounds,” Diana tried to sound as cheerful as possible. “I shouldn't be long.”

“I'll try not to cry,” Brad made a face.

Diana laughed and sang a hymn while she cleaned his shoulder. “Your hand now, if you're okay still? Don't feel faint, do you?”

“I've already passed out,” Brad joked.

Despite his light attitude, his face looked ashen and Diana did a quick job of it.

“You lie just where you are, Brad Dinar,” Diana said with a frown as he tried to sit up.

Brad scowled.

“You need complete rest now.”

Brad brightened. “Thanks for the song. It really helped me.”

“It helped me,” Diana chuckled. “I was just about to faint. Good thing I didn't or you would probably be in two pieces now—with me gripping your arm like I did when I cleaned your hand. I did that so you wouldn't feel the pain in your hand so much.”

“Thanks again,” Brad drummed his left hand against the wall behind him. “Thank goodness I'm left-handed!”

“Good thing,” Diana agreed. “Your right one is going to take time to use it, busted as it was.”

“Oh no,” Brad frowned. “Oh, guess what?”

“What?” This guy was a talkative one.

“I just surrendered my life to Christ earlier,” Brad said with the happiest brown eyes.

“That's the best news ever!” Diana grinned.

“I'm proud of our boy,” Nan walked up with a smile and her arms full of dirty bed linens. “Brad, you've made a choice that will last you a lifetime and beyond.”

“I know, I realize that.” Brad nodded.

Nan said a quick goodbye and left.

“I really have to go,” Diana hated to go because he was so excited about talking. “I'll come back later. If you need anything, just call for me. Nurse MacArthur.”

“Thanks so much!” Brad looked around with grateful eyes. “I'm beginning to think you all are angels here.”

“Not angels,” Diana smiled. “Just the sainted ones called to serve our people.”

The day was full of chaos but Diana managed to help Brad write a letter to home.

• • •

“No, I will not allow it.” Dr. Henson said in a very firm tone unlike himself. “It's a very serious matter not to give ether to a patient who is going through such a surgery.”

“But the matter is not what you think, doctor. It's my responsibility to see to the welfare of this establishment.”

Nan strained to listen, standing behind the opened cabinet door where she was folding clean linen.

“What do you expect of a soldier's life here on the Front line, a flowery bed of ease? No, but it is pain and endurance!”

“But bear in mind, Dr. Holtz,” Dr. Henson said briskly, “this whole war is fighting cruelty, and we must ease the pain of this afflicted world the best we can.”

Nan sucked in her breath, What is going on? She was about to leave when Dr. Holtz' voice began in a roar, “Alright, doctor. Have it your way! I wash my hands of this affair, and will use the ether. But when it runs out don't come crying on my shoulder!”

Nan heard their footsteps going down the hall.

They say we've won this battle today but I can't fathom how we have, Nan stared at the stack of towels on the shelves. There's so many dead and wounded here it's enough to make you feel weak in the knees! And now, Dr. Holtz seems to think there's not enough ether. God, help us! And help those poor men out there, please.

Nan drew a deep breath, and wondered why on earth she had become a nurse and had come all the way across the Big Pond to tend to these horrible wounds of war. She was terrified.

However, she grabbed a stack of towels and rags and headed towards the operation ward where Sandy had her tools ready to help assist Dr. Holtz in a surgery. With a glance at the patient, Nan sighed with relief. Dr. Holtz had used the ether and the patient was out.

“Dr. Holtz, sir?” Sandy's face was suddenly ashen. “I don't think there'll be enough bandages for this patient when you're done.”

“The weakness of a woman's mind!” Dr. Holtz began stormily. “Why didn't you tell me before we started this surgery?”

“There's a truck of supplies due here any minute,” a nurse orderly spoke up.

“Run out then, MacMillan!” Dr. Holtz barked out. “As soon as they arrive, bring the bandages here immediately. Now!”

Nan felt her chest squeeze with anxiety and she ran down the halls, out of the back door and to the edge of the base. Out of the stinky smells of the wounded and sick, she could finally fill her lungs with fresh air.

Nan waited by the roadside and enjoyed the breeze against her clammy face. As she caught her breath, she looked around to see what was going on in the base. People were rushing around, still bringing up wounded soldiers from the beach.

Nan wrung her hands impatiently. What if the trucks didn't come soon enough? Would Dr. Holtz get really mad at her? And the patient? She looked up the road to see if she could catch sight of a truck. Instead, she saw three soldiers walking in the direction of the beach, passing close by her. They talked animatedly, two of them strapping on aviator caps.

As the pilots talked, a plane took off from the beach below. The guys grew louder and more animated as they watched it take off.

Nan bit her lip as she sensed their excitement. She knew what it felt like to feel pride in what you do, especially in something so good a cause. She was the same way about being a nurse, yet flying up among the clouds must make a person feel better than hearing the groans of wounded men.

Nan frowned at herself and straightened her back. Someone has to take care of Uncle Sam's men and it sure won't be a baby!

As Nan straightened her white nurse's cap, her quick brown eyes caught sight of something in the distance. She shaded her eyes with one hand. Under the bright sunlight of the French sun, Diana was struggling up the hill from the beach with a wounded man.

Nan started forward to help her friend but stopped when she saw one of the pilots going over to help her. She stopped short and crossed her arms. Let the pilot help her! She smirked.

Remembering her own mission, Nan stood still at the roadside as she watched the pilot help the wounded man inside the base where orderlies took the man on a stretcher.

Before he left, the pilot stood talking to Diana. Nan grinned mischievously. She would have to find out all about this conversation later and, make no mistake, Diana was sure to not leave out a single detail. Before Nan could get a good look at the pilot for future memory, the pilot left Diana and jogged past her.

As he brushed past her, evidently in a big hurry, Nan caught the sight of an E.S. stamped badge on his aviator cap. Eagle Squadron! Nan smiled to herself, watching Diana walk inside the hospital. Well, no common boy for Diana!

Just then, the truck rolled in. Nan waved frantically at them. A man leaned out asking what was the matter.

“I need bandages quick!” Nan couldn't help but wring her hands. “We've got a man on the table in there!”

The man hopped out of the halted truck and handed her a package. Nan started running back to the building as she tore the package open.

• • •

Dr. Holtz was washing his hands when Nan entered the operation room. Sandy gave her a thankful glance as she grabbed the bandages.

Dr. Holtz looked over his shoulder. “MacMillan, go sort out the rest of the supplies they give us.”

Nan nodded and started back to the supply room trying to ignore her aching feet. She sorted and stacked all the bandages, fresh linens and cleaning cloths neatly onto the shelves.

When Nan entered the hall again, she heard a commotion and looked up. There was yet another wounded man on a stretcher coming in. Her heart stabbed with pity. Looking at his leg, she knew it was in bad shape. She silently shook her head. Too young to lose a leg. He looked to be in his early twenties and was obviously unconscious for his head kept rolling around on the stretcher as they moved him.

As the stretcher passed her, Nan got a closer look at the soldier. Her eyes popped. Something on his face struck her. He looked so familiar.

• • •

All day Sandy felt like crawling into a cave and not coming out until all the bombs and bullets had stopped. It made her nerves so raw. She sang to distract herself. War was certainly not a picnic. She tried to stay out of Dr. Holtz's way but she kept running into him.

“Keep your mind on your work!” He scolded her when he found her singing.

“I am!” Sandy plastered a fake smile on her face. “Singing makes the world a happier place. In case you forgot!”

Dr. Holtz gave her a glare and went on his way.

Sandy sang even louder as she merrily worked, cleaning wounds and bandaging up soldiers.

The bombs and bullets faded away.

Sandy found Diana reading the Bible to Brad.

“Fight the good fight of faith. Lay hold on eternal life...”

• • •

Nan brought an armful of towels to the laundry room. On the way she met a nurse called Mary Black from northern Indiana.

“Break time for you, Nan!” Mary stopped her in the hallway with a cheerful smile. “Mrs. Combes said for me to tell you.”

“Thanks,” Nan hurried to drop her towels off before going to the nurses station to get a drink of water.

As she slumped down on a folding chair, resting her arms on the table before her, she continued to see the new soldier's face. What is it about him that is so familiar? She dismissed the thought as she finished her short break.

Nan walked over to Mrs. Combes with a smile, “What are my orders, ma'am?”

“Smith, Jenkins and Hawkins have wounds that need cleaning again.” Mrs. Combes said, looking at her chart.

Nan nodded and started off for the ward where the wounded men were. She cleaned Smith first. The wounds were bad and it took a while. As she started on Jenkins, she looked up to see two nurses wheeling in another cot.

Nan gasped in recognition. It was the soldier who been brought in with the bad leg. She bit down on her lip. She could tell that his bad leg had been amputated. With a curious gnaw, she looked at the name above his cot. In bold black letters, it read: Reinhart, James.

Nan gasped, “Jamie!”

Surely it couldn't be her cousin from Tennessee, could it? She didn't recognize him, yet she hadn't seen him in years. Nan bit on her lip again and left Jenkins' side to get a better look.

Reinhart lay silently with his head turned from her. It wasn't the little boy that she had left in Tennessee. This was one of Uncle Sam's men.

Surely there are two James Reinharts? Nan thought anxiously, about to turn away when the soldier turned. His eyes were still closed but his face turned straight towards her. Even in his unconsciousness he must have felt the pain for his face was twisted into an odd expression.

It was then Nan knew for sure. This could not be anyone but her old buddy Jamie. Though his face was older, it held traces of the small boy. She drew a hand to her face and started to cry. Her mind went back to an earlier time, a time far different from what the two cousins were now experiencing.

There hadn't been machine guns firing, shells exploding or doctors' hurried orders. It had been summer. The hills of peaceful Tennessee were in full display of green life...

“Nan!” Jamie's voice was clearly excited as he reached out to give his 12 year-old cousin a hug. “It's sure good to see you. Been waitin' forever. You took long in getting' here out of that there train.”

“But I got here, didn't I?” Nan smiled up at her cousin, paying no attention to his teasing. Boys were just that way.

Nan had arrived to spend a whole summer with Grandma and Grandpa Reinhart. She had been apprehensive at first but had instantly been put at ease by a cousin her own age.

Thirteen year-old Jamie had been lively, popular and fun, and all the kids at the church accepted her into their little group because Jamie had wanted them to. Nan was glad to have such a cousin, someone who really looked out for her in a place she wasn't familiar with.

Together, Jamie and Nan had fished, played hide-and-seek and listened to Grandpa tell his stories from the First War.

“C'mon Nan, I'll show you where we can find the best bullfrogs on this whole place!” Jamie pulled her along to the big pond out back behind the large farmhouse.

“I can't gig,” Nan said uncertainly.

“Too bad,” Jamie gripped his gig tighter. “Then I'll have to teach you.”

Every evening as dusk set in, they went to the big pond and frog gigged. Jamie taught her all about it. She had loved doing it, well maybe not handling the slimy frogs but the fun of seeing the farm get dark and seeing all the fireflies come out.

“Lightning bugs,” Nan corrected herself, seeing Jamie frown, and grinned.

“Yep, lightning bugs.” Jamie said loudly.

Nan smiled, remembering. Her smile faded and so did the scene in her mind, and the occupied U.S. stamped cot came into view.

Nan suddenly bolstered up her courage and turned from the cot. She knelt on the floor next to Jenkins and smiled gallantly at him. “Sorry, I've just got to clean your arm. We don't want it to get infected, do we?”

Jenkins looked at her with a wary expression.

Nan chided herself for her fake cheeriness for she knew her voice had sounded unnaturally high and giddy.

Nan forced her voice to a calm. “Let's get to work, shall we?”

When her duties were finally over, Nan looked forward to eating a good supper which Mrs. Joan always cooked. She had missed supper, serving the patients, but she knew that Mrs. Joan would save her a nice plateful in a warmer as she always did. She was the best cook on the base, as well as the head detective of the Butterfly Girls.

Nan gave a sigh of relief knowing food was just around the corner but the thought of her cousin who was still unconscious on that hospital cot made her appetite lessen. She headed for the nurses station to clock out and to talk to Diana who was probably there working in the records as she did in the evenings. She needed someone to talk to about Jamie, someone to give her just a little boost in that trying moment.

Nan walked along deep in her thoughts when she met Sandy in the hall. Sandy had an armful of soiled linens and, both having their minds on other things than a hospital hallway, they collided into each other.

“Nan!” Sandy regained her balance, pushing a stray red curl under her white nurse cap, and looked over her stack of linens. “Do you think things are finally starting to calm down!”

Nan felt her face crumple. “Sandy, you'll never believe what has happened. My cousin was taken here this afternoon!”

“Here?” Sandy's mouth fell open. “Are you serious? What a coincidence!”

Nan nodded and hid her face into her hands. “Oh Sandy, I don't know if he's going to make it. He's lost his leg and he's still unconscious. I heard one of the doctors saying the next few hours will be the most critical. If he does wake up, and Lord forgive me for saying if, I need to be there for him. But I don't know if I'll be able to be strong for him.”

“I'm sorry, honest I am.” Sandy's look was sympathetic as she reached to give Nan a hug. “If I could do something, I would...”

Nan nodded, wiping her eyes.

Sandy suddenly grinned, “The Salvation Army brought in some of their yummy donuts with chocolate icing and cream filling! I'm sure Mrs. Combes will let us share one tonight.”

Nan nodded again, smiling through her tears.

They walked together, silently. Sandy dumped her load of dirty linen into the laundry room, and they went to the nurses station.

“Hello girls,” Diana looked up from her desk, doing records. “Nice calm and peaceful evening, isn't it?”

“For real!” Sandy bugged her hazel eyes. “It's getting so slow I feel like dreaming.”

“I do feel like dreaming,” Diana yawned out and pulled a small cardboard box from under her desk. “Grab some water, if you please, Sandy.”

Diana smiled mysteriously and Nan stood there waiting with a growling stomach as Sandy ran off to get their glasses of water.

“What is it?” Nan finally thought to ask.

“The chocolate donuts the Salvation Army brought!” Diana said in a loud whisper, grinning. “There's three, one for each of us. Isn't that sweet to think about, literally!”

“But I haven't eaten my supper!” Nan frowned. “It'll spoil my appetite.”

“Tell you what,” Diana told her. “You can grab your plate that Mrs. Joan has waiting for you in the warmer and come back here to eat it. We can wait on the donuts, a minute anyhow.”

Nan hurried to get her plate of food. When she returned, Sandy was already sitting at the desk with three glasses of water.

“Quick, wasn't I?” Sandy smiled and pulled Nan a chair to sit on.

Diana cleared her throat as Nan sat down. “I'm sorry to hear about your cousin, Nan.”

Nan nodded and felt a lump rise in her throat. Suppose Jamie did die? Her thoughts whirled crazily, imagining her old buddy with a gray, stiff face and laying flat in a coffin.

Nan silently prayed over her food and lifted the lip of the tray. A delicious aroma filled her nostrils as she quietly dug into the sliced beef, mashed potatoes with a brown sort of gravy, corn and a fresh warm bread roll.

Diana and Sandy talked while Nan ate her supper; then, when Nan swallowed the last bite Diana opened the cardboard box grandly.

“Now for these yummy chocolate things!” Diana held the box out for each girl to take a donut.

Nan sank her teeth into the soft, moist and oh so chocolaty cream-filled donut.

“That was really good,” Sandy said after her donut had disappeared. “Now, I'll see you two in the morning,” she stood up. “I just can't keep my eyes open any more.”

“Wait,” Diana reached into her apron and thumbed her Bible up. “There's one more thing to be done before you go to bed.”

“Right.” Sandy sat back down and pulled her own Bible out from her apron.

Nan followed.

“Who begins?” Diana asked them.

“You can,” Sandy answered for them both.

“Alright, Psalms 144.” Diana began, “Blessed be the Lord my strength which teacheth my hands to war and my fingers to fight. My goodness and my fortress, my high tower... Yea, happy is that people whose God is the Lord.”

“Psalms 31,” Sandy yawned out. “In thee O Lord do I put my trust. Let me never be ashamed. Deliver me in thy righteousness... Let the lying lips be put to silence... Be of good courage and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord.”

Nan wiped a tear that was sliding down her cheek before she started her chapter. “Psalms 40. I waited patiently for the Lord and he inclined unto me, and heard my cry... Blessed is that man that maketh the Lord his trust, and respecteth not the proud... Thou art my help and deliverer. Make no tarrying, O my God.” Her voice cracked when she reached the last line.

“Please don't worry about your cousin, Nan. He'll be alright,” Diana said quietly. “He's in God's hands and that's the best place anybody could be.”

“We speak of trust in God,” Sandy thoughtfully said, “and then we doubt Him. This shouldn't be. I have this fault myself so I'm reproving myself the most.”

“Thanks, Sandy.” Diana closed her pocket Bible. “That's something we all need to be reminded of. To trust God fully.”

“Thanks Sandy and Diana,” Nan braved a big smile at them. “I know you'll be praying for my cousin too, so I'm not going to worry now. God will do everything all right, just like He always does. I needed to be reminded of that.”

“And we just need to let Him work it all out in His perfect time, don't we?” Sandy stood up.

“Wait again, Sandy.” Diana grinned up at her. “We gotta pray now.”

“Forgot again!” Sandy sat down, “I don't know where my mind is today. Asleep already, I guess.”

The girls went to their bunks for the night.

June 6,1944 had ended.

• • •

June 1973.

Bibi fell asleep, dreaming of bombs and battles.