The American Lieutenant

Garrett checked his watch; he had made it out of Ramsford House with plenty of time to spare. He left the hut and took a roundabout way behind the estate to the stables. She was already inside, unbridling Molly.

“Garrett! You're just in time to help.” She smiled.

He proceeded to unsaddle Molly while Sophia hung the bridle on a hook.
After lifting the saddle off the mare, he dropped it onto the saddle rest just outside the stall. He turned to Sophia. “Come here.” He held out his arm.

“Ugh, I'm sure I smell offensive. I helped Murphy clean out the stalls before I went riding.”
“Don't you know by now that I like everything about you? I like the way that you're not above a little stable work.” He walked up to her. “I like the way you look at me, your smile, the way you laugh, the sound of your voice, the way you say my name, the way you smell….”

“Even now?”

“Especially now.” He sniffed her neck as he hugged her. “Mmmm,” he said as he nibbled on her ear lobe.

She laughed as she wrapped her arms around him.

He gave her a quick kiss. “Come on.” Pulling her to the loft ladder, he directed her up, and then followed. Once on the loft, he pushed open the gable. “Sit with me.”

Something wasn't right. He had that distant look. “Garrett, what's wrong? It's soon now, isn't it?”

He held her chin as he looked into her eyes, trusting her. “Yes, soon. I shouldn't be telling you any of this. Do you understand me?” When she nodded, he continued. “Probably a week --two at the most. That meeting I had with the colonel before dinner? Well, we're back in the hut now. We have to get ready.” Most of that was information from the meeting before dinner with Major Preston and Colonel Blakely. That he made no allusion to the second meeting he had with Colonel Blakely was deliberate. There was no need to worry her about that.

“A week?” she whispered with a shaky voice. “You already moved out of the house?” She shook her head. “Why?” She couldn't prevent the tears.

“Darlin', don't cry. It was going to happen sooner or later. That's why we're here, Sophia.” He wiped her cheek with his palm.

“I can't help it,” her voice a quaver. “What will happen now?”

“We won't even find out all of the details until we're in Upottery.” There was no way he would worry her with the details of what he learned from the meetings with the colonel. Bound to secrecy anyway, he had already said much more than he should have. He looked up toward the night sky, saw it faintly lit by the waxing crescent moon, and changed the subject. “Look, there's Mars, the one with the reddish tint.” Then he pointed to the northern sky. “That constellation, shaped like a `W' over there, is Cassiopeia. Next to it is Andromeda and Perseus. You know the story, right? A beautiful mother and daughter? Perseus sees the daughter and he can't take his eyes off her. Well, he comes back for her and now they're together --forever.”

She laughed as she sniffled. “I do know the story Garrett, and you left a lot out.”
He smiled and pushed a wisp of her hair back from her face. “You're right, I did leave a lot out. I like my version better, because you're my Andromeda. Sophia, when all of this is over, I will come back for you. But, this is the last time I'm going to see you before we leave.”

“Promise me you really will come back.” Her eyes searched his.

“I promise,” he whispered. They both knew it was a promise in the hands of fate. As he held her, he wondered what his chances of making it back might be.
* * *

At the hut, Garrett lay on his back staring at the bunk above him. He had just made a promise he had no business making. He thought of the red planet Mars. Panic washed through him, though he was getting accustomed to uncertainty. He had so carefully guarded his emotions and avoided commitments because of this war. Now he had found the one person with whom he truly wanted to spend his life, and he had no idea if he would have a future. The anxiety would pass and then return. Fear and Panic. Phobos and Deimos, sons of Ares the Greek god of war and moons of Mars, how apropos. This was something he didn't feel he could share with her or his men, this very real fear that gripped him. Phobos and Deimos would become his constant companions. He and his men were nothing but pawns, small, expendable pieces manipulated by their superiors. Together, perhaps all the tiny pieces would make a difference, but at what expense? Hitler had to be stopped, of that there was no doubt; however, their own individual lives were worth so little in the grand scheme. How many would be lost along the way? How many would be lost because of orders he would have to give?