The Red Line

“Yes, sir. I’ve always sort of been, I guess.”

“Your leg and foot are still both going to give you problems. They’ve experienced severe trauma. But if you continue to progress at this pace, you should be up, taking your first tentative steps, in a few weeks.”

Jensen’s voice returned to its strangely detached tone. “That’s good, sir.”

The doctor was anxious to be on his overburdened way.

“Is there anything more I can do for you, Sergeant?”

It didn’t take long for Robert Jensen to seize upon what he wanted more than anything.

“Sir, if it’d be all right with you, I’d sure like to sit outside in the sun for a while and take in a bit of the day.”

The doctor’s brow furrowed. “Well, I don’t know if you’re quite ready for that.” The hopeful look in Jensen’s eyes caused the major to quickly reconsider. “What do you think, nurse? Do you think our patient could stand the stress of a wheelchair ride?”

“I don’t see why not. It’s nearly fifty outside, his IVs have all been removed, and the last radiation reading was low enough to allow for at least a few hours of outdoor activity without any long-term effect. From what I heard about him in Wurzburg, Sergeant Jensen deserves whatever he wants. I think the least we can do is give him an hour in the sun.”

“Good, then it’s agreed. An hour in the sun for Sergeant Jensen is so ordered. And I think there’s an exhausted nurse who also deserves her hour in the afternoon sunshine. I suspect we can afford to spare her for a little while. Would you like to take care of our outdoor patient?”

“Doctor, I’d love that.”

“What time is the sergeant’s convoy leaving for Sembach?”

“Not until five,” Elizabeth Morse said. “His flight’s scheduled to depart for the States at about seven.”

“What about your own flight?”

“I’m on the same one as Sergeant Jensen. We’re both a couple of feisty Texans, so they found two spots for us on a medevac to San Antonio.”

“Very well. Then go out and enjoy your hour of sunlight. There’ll be plenty of time when you get back to get both of you ready to leave.”

• • •

With a blanket tucked under her arm, Elizabeth Morse pushed the tired wheelchair out the hospital’s front entrance. The moment the sun’s warmth fell upon him, Jensen’s broad smile returned. A light, pleasant breeze tugged at the day’s fragile heat. The duo moved quickly to distance themselves from the massive gray hospital complex so full of suffering and misery.

Down the grassy incline on the eastern side of the hospital, the treads of the well-worn wheelchair rolled. An occasional patch of melting snow crunched beneath its spinning wheels.

“How’s this?” she asked.

They were three hundred yards from the nearest depressing building and well beyond its growing eastern shadow.

He looked around. “This’ll do just fine.”

She set the brake on the old chair to keep it from slipping from her grasp. The last thing she needed was her patient roaring down the little incline with her in hot pursuit. Satisfied that the chair would hold, she took the woolen blanket and spread it on the damp ground next to the wounded platoon sergeant. She sat down beside him. Elizabeth Morse slowly removed the scores of pins from her raven hair. The task completed, she shook her head. Flowing black strands, shining in the early-afternoon sunlight, fell down around her.

Jensen smiled at her sitting figure. She returned his smile. Just beneath the surface, both sets of eyes reflected an unmistakable sadness the passage of time would never be able to erase. The pain within them couldn’t be masked. Neither tried to hide their suffering. For the first time, he noticed the severe bruises on her face and the deep scratch marks up and down her arms.

The attack by the skinheads had done more than damage her soul.

She stared at the horizon. In the distance, a dozen wafting trails of smoke were visible in the east. She turned and looked at him with a puzzled expression on her face.

“Why?”

“Why what, ma’am?”

“As long as we’re by ourselves, please call me Beth, if that’s okay with you.”

“All right, Beth. Why what?”

She stared again at the distant smoke.

“Why did all this happen?”

The smile left his face. He weighed his answer carefully.

“Beth, before a few days ago, I’d never concerned myself with such things. For twenty-four years, I’ve done nothing but prepare myself and others to kill their fellow man. That was my job, and I did it the best I could without giving it a second thought. But locked in my own private prison these past four days, I’ve had lots of time to think. And there’s only one conclusion I can reach.”

“What’s that?”

“That the reason this happened is because man’s the lowest form of life on this pitiful planet.”

She gave him a surprised look. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean is, man’s the only creature on this spinning blue globe that kills for no reason. Only man kills for the sport of it. Only man kills for the perverse pleasure it brings him. No other form of life spends so much time plotting how to murder its own kind. Only man is so despicable and so vile. Look at what we’ve done here in the past five days. The cruelty and violence of mankind’s fragile existence cannot be denied.”

Morse paused for a moment as she took in his words. “When will it end?” she asked. She quickly changed her question. “Will it ever end?”

“Yes. It will end.”

“When?”

The sorrow of his newfound discovery appeared in his emotionless eyes and filled the corners of his mouth.

“When the last man kills the next-to-last man.”

His brutal insight stunned her. She fumbled for a response but was unable to form the words. They each realized there was nothing more for either to say. After what had happened, the truth of Jensen’s revelation couldn’t be denied. And the strong bond between them needed no further expression. Both stared at the peaceful landscape that surrounded them. Filled with the beauty of winter, the German hills and forests were magnificent and serene. For nearly an hour, they silently lounged in this idyllic world. A warming sun in a cloudless sky shone down upon their backs. A flock of tiny snowbirds joined them. The brown birds danced upon the sunlight, frolicking on the winds and rejoicing in the sun’s promise of better days to come.

Only once was their peace broken when a stretching line of ambulances departed for Sembach. Jensen and Morse smiled again as they watched the vehicles pass. In three hours, it would be their turn to board those same ambulances for a final German journey. In five hours, they’d be w

inging over the Atlantic. By this time tomorrow, Robert Jensen would be in his wife’s arms in a San Antonio hospital. He was certain he’d already be frustrated with the antics of his teenage daughters.

After a month’s separation, there’d be much catching up to do. He understood his world would never again be whole. For he could never escape the vivid nightmares of the past five days. But with Linda, he’d find his solace. He’d quietly live out his remaining years with the woman he loved. They’d grow old together. And he knew he’d never once speak of the horrors he’d witnessed in the snowbound fields of Germany.

The pair’s unspoiled hour in the sun continued to slowly pass. While they basked in its glow, the old sergeant and the pretty nurse were overwhelmed by the simple pleasure of spending time lost in their own thoughts. In some ways, neither had ever felt better than this in their entire life. Neither was more at peace than they were at this instant. Their contentment was complete.

Each knew that no matter how much longer they lived, they’d probably never experience a better moment than this one.

“Don’t we need to be heading back soon?” he asked, breaking the long silence.

“Oh, it’s just so pleasant out here. If you think you can handle it, let’s stay for a few minutes more.”

• • •

While the Russians waited to cross the Rhine, waves of attack helicopters swooped in over the American-held section of Germany west of the historic river. There remained few effective fighting units in the portion to the rear. Even so, Kaiserslautern and Landstuhl had to be eliminated. There were too many Americans in those areas, and the Russian leadership had no more patience. The fifth day was near its close. And Comrade Cheninko wanted it to end. Completely unaware that the American plan to stymie his every action was unfolding, General Yovanovich reluctantly complied with the brutal dictator’s demands.

As they reached the attack corridor, the nozzles on the helicopter’s stubby wings began spraying droplets of an odorless, clear liquid upon an unforgiving planet.