23
Six months had passed since Jack went off to war. It had been a hard six months for Rose and the other women of Chippewa Falls. But fortunately for Rose, Sam had moved b ack in. Both women made ends meet by working at the factory and watching each other’s children. They were two women, trying to make the best out of a desperate situation.
It was a lovely day. Bright and sunny. For the first time in months, Rose was a pretty good mood. The local theater was holding a small play and Rose had won the lead role. She had just returned home and was excitedly reciting her lines for Sam when the soldier arrived. His handsome face was grim, his blue eyes full of cold sympathy. Rose’s words faded away at his approach. This meant only one thing. Sam and Rose looked at one another, wondering whose husband was it for? Which one of them was now a widow?
"Mrs. Rose Dawson," the man stammered. "Which one of you is Mrs. Rose Dawson?"
Rose’s face drained of color. She stepped forward, trying to keep herself upright. Fainting would only make things more awkward. "I am."
"This is for you mam," the officer tipped his hat and quickly left the porch. He had made a mistake once, of staying longer then he should have and spent two hours comforting a new widow. He wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice.
"Rose?" Sam looked at her cousin in law with concern. She got to her feet and wrapped an arm around Rose’s quivering shoulder.
"I-I don’t know if I can do this Sam…I can’t…"
"Here," She gently pulled the envelope out of Rose’s hand. "I’ll read it for you."
Rose only nodded. "Ok."
Slowly, Sam opened the letter, dreading to read of Jack’s death. But what she read was so much worse. "Dear Mrs. Dawson. The United States Government regrets to inform you of the capture of your husband’s, Jack Dawson’s troop. Please believe that we are doing our best to find and bring him home," Sam looked up at Rose, her face also pale.
"No…Jack…" Rose sunk to the ground below. "Not Jack! Please not Jack!" How could this happen? How could the government allow an entire troop to be captured like that? And Jack…how was he going to survive this? Would he survive? Would she? Knowing that her beloved husband was in constant danger?
"Well…at least he’s not dead," Sam forced a smile that looked more like a grimace. This really scared her. What if George got captured too?
"As far as we know," Rose sobbed. "There’s nothing stopping them from killing him. Nothing at all."
"Come now Rose, we can’t think like that. Jack will come home to you. He will. Alive and as handsome as ever. It’ll be like he never left."
Rose looked at her friend, tears still dropping from her eyes. Her hope was at an all time low. "I hope you’re right Sam. I hope you’re right."
~*~
It was cold and dark where Jack was. Not colder then the North Atlantic, but cold none the less. He groaned as another pain shot up his arm as the chains rubbed against his wrist. He had no idea how long he’s been held captive. All he knew was that he was hungry, filthy, and didn’t know if he’d ever see his family again.
A question was asked of him once again. A question in a language he didn’t know.
"I-I don’t know," was all he could answer, knowing and dreading what that answer would earn him. A scream erupted from his mouth as something burning hot was pressed against his skin. Not able to take the pain for much longer, Jack lost consciousness; escaping into dreams of his old life in Chippewa Falls. Dreams of Rose and Josephine.