DulcetFlux & creativemind [WWII]

[creativemind]

He took the change of clothes. His eyes were fierce against her now. He leaned settling himself in the chair without assistance and spoke in a hushed tone, "I'll have you not speak that way to me or any of the other men here. It was not our inadequacy that placed us here injured. We were up against easily thousands of Nazis with well fortified baton guns. Every man served here admirably.", Mitchell would glance at her and push himself away. It was an odd feeling to be angry with a nun but her words were taken very harmfully.


He pushed himself toward the divider slowly taking it easy on his stitched abdomen. Once behind the divider, he undressed himself carefully rolling his dirty clothes up into a tight fold. He dipped his fingers in to test the water out before plunging himself into the water eager to clean himself up. The tub was rather small but he stayed back there until his hair to his feet was cleaned. He got out gingerly drying off and changing into the cotton pajamas she had provided him.


He piled his old clothes in his lap. Smelly and stiff from sweat he rolled himself slowly back toward his bed.

 

[DulcetFlux]

The Sister was taken aback but she then realized that her joke was not funny at all. She bit her lip and contemplated over what she had said for a while and watched the sergeant as he manuevered himself to clean up, just to make sure he wouldn't hurt himself. As he finished his bath and change, the sister entered the threshold of his small curtained compartment to collect his laundry quietly. "I'm sorry for what I said, sir. I do hope you would let it pass as a joke which was very badly thought over," she murmured.


Her green eyes implored him for a response to her apology as she took his dirty clothing and put it into a little box of laundry that was to be done.

 

[creativemind]

Mitchell nodded toward her in a manner that would indicate to her he was not one to hold a grudge. It had been more of a warning for her not to joke in that manner with some of the men. It was a touchy situation for them all to be stuck in a convent injured while their comrades remained on the battle field either deceased or still fighting the battle. His blue eyes would give her the apology received.


"I don't reckon any of that will come clean huh?", Mitchell asked his chin nodding toward the pile of dirty clothes she had picked up from him. He climbed back on the bed slowly stretching his legs outward.

 

[DulcetFlux]

Her expression lightened once more as she saw the change in his expression. "Well, do you want it to come clean?" She asked, raising an eyebrow as she studied the dirtied war clothes in her box. "You can never underestimate the power of how well we can do laundry here," she chuckled as she put the box on the floor for a while.


She circled around his bed and gently fixed up his pillows for him to lie more comfortably. She poured a cup of water from his pitcher so he'd have something at arm's length and pulled a small pocket book out of sort of apron and put it on his desk.

 

[creativemind]

Mitchell thought pensively for a few seconds as if she had asked him a complex question. His eyes softened on her as his mind had made a decision, "I think I do want them clean... and saved...to pass on. What we did on that beach is gonna make the history books...". His eyes floated upward to meet hers hoping she would be able to clean and keep up with his uniform for him to keep it wherever he may go next. He chuckled a little after a moment of silence passed, "I can never underestimate the power of healing here too. Thank you."





With that Mitchell was content to reach for the water and sip on it. He glanced at the pocket book she had left on his table. He slid his fingertips over it seeing it was a small bible. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly into a smile as he picked up the bible clutching it in his hand. He was thankful to be here and holding the bible. Religion had never been a huge part of his present life. After growing up, he had all but abandoned the practice. Now it seemed given the circumstances he should be thankful for it.

 

[DulcetFlux]

She nodded, smiling gently at him. "I thought you'd want it clean," she said as she took the laundry box back into her hands. "And sir, trust me, I don't want to undermine the abilities of the doctors here but the fate of your health relies on you." She shrugged as she fixed up the soiled clothes in the laundry. "You can either be skipping out of this place or dropping dead, depending on what you tell your body to do..."


She smiled. "But for what it's worth, sir, I always pray for the men here to get better and to be strong in spirit so that they may be willed to keep fighting. It might be harder for the men in the South Wing but at the end of the day, just like when you were at the lines, every man has his own battle to fight," she looked at the clock on the wall and chuckled. "And I have some grimy laundry to be fighting now too," she said, excusing herself.

 

[creativemind]

"I appreciate it...", Mitchell nodded as he agreed with her on his health remained with how he told his body to react. "Please, no sir.", Mitchell shook his hand a little. "My name is James...James Mitchell.", he said as he shifted a little in the bed getting comfortable again. He would nod to her as she excused herself. He took a deep but short clearing breath letting his mind rattle through the many thoughts that would flood him now. He reached for the small bible and opened it slowly beginning at the first page reading.


It would be the first time he had ever sat down and actually read the bible. As he read the passages, he slowly began to allow his mind drift into a daydream involving the green eyed nun who had been caring for him since he recalled waking up in this place. The pace of the reading back and forth slowly lulled him back to sleep. The small bible lay opened against his upper abdomen as soft snores came from Mitchell again. Sleep was good for him to heal when he would allow his body to do so.

 

[DulcetFlux]

Anna did her usual chores before going upstairs to their quarters at six that evening to pray with the others. She had the night off so she was happy to get some rest finally. But then, as she was washing her face, letting her dark brown hair down for once, she realized that she was thinking of the Sergeant. Seargeant James Mitchell, she thought as she ran a brush through her hair. She had grown an affinity to him, like she had with the other men too.


Her thoughts quickly wandered to the other men who were housed in the convent and how she seemed to have a close tie with them. She sat on her bed and prayed for a while, thankful for having been given an opportunity outside the walls of the palace she had lived in and be treated as a common person and not as the royal the she was--feared and mysterious to all. Anna thought of it for a while, how much happier she was being Sister Anna and not Princess Amelie Marguerite of France, like she was all her life. She smiled as she thought and laid back down in bed, falling asleep with the thoughts of enjoying this normal life she had for as long as it lasted.

 

[creativemind]

Mitchell would sleep solidly throughout the night. The next day came early as one of the men woke from a nightmare screaming and yelping as if he were being pinned in the bed. Mitchell awoke blinking his eyes and he maneuvered himself into the wheelchair pushing himself toward the source of the screams. One of the sisters had reached the man just before he came rolling forward patting the young man on the hip. "Hey, hush you're waking the hall you're fine son!", Mitchell said in a firm but hushed tone.


The young man rolled over looking to the direction of the Sergeant who was speaking to him. The young man's eyes were wildly confused as tears streamed down his face. "Hold on there you're about to roll out.", Mitchell said nudging the young man on his hip. The young man would calm down slowly looking around remembering his surroundings. "Sorry.", the man murmured softly. Mitchell would sit by the young man's bed watching him. "Are you injured..... too?", the young man would ask tentatively. Mitchell gave him a nod of confirmation. "Yeah, shot up by the Nazis as we pushed inward on Omaha. You?", Mitchell spoke only loud enough for the young man to hear. The young man nodded, "Me too. Well, I think they only glanced me. I got caught up in the barbed wire. I'm Private Jensen."





Mitchell smiled for a second, "Good to meet you, son. We're all ok though. Just relax." Jensen would nod and curl himself back inside the blanket. Mitchell stayed by the young man's bed until he was drifting off to sleep. Soon enough the Sergeant would be on his patrol slowly rolling between the rows of beds speaking to any of the men who wanted to speak to him.

 

[DulcetFlux]

Sister Anna came in to do her rounds a little late than uual. She ha overslept that day, caused by thinking long and hard the night before about the men who were under her watch. Oversleeping could've spelled a scolding from the Mother Superior if it were osme other day but it was her scheduled day to be allowed to enter later than usual--ten o'clock.


She quickly got dressed though, and was in the ward by half past nine. She tended to clearing our breakfast trays and bringing new books. She smiled as she finally got her hands free for a moment to see the Sergeant who was magnanimously speaking to the men. She smiled amiably. "I see you covered for me this morning, sergeant."

 

[creativemind]

Mitchell looking over at the sister as she appeared nearly from no where for him. He chuckled a little smiling, "Sure thing." He turned his head toward her more and maneuvered the wheelchair more to face her. "I was gonna ask you something...", Mitchell said as he pushed the chair away from the beds. His tone would let her know he wanted to speak to her privately away from the other men. He pushed himself away from the rows of beds hoping she would follow him. As he turned back around, "You think I could get outside for some fresh air?", he would say looking toward her curiously. "If it's too much to ask, it's ok. I'm just getting stir crazy a little in here.", he said softly as he pushed the chair forward and backward just a little.

 

[DulcetFlux]

(I'm so sorry for the delayed reply. Life got in the way. xD I'm sorry. I'll give you earlier notice next time.)


She smiled as she watched him and followed him as they quietly went aside. "Why not?" she chuckled in response. "The doctors are busy in the southern wing so, I'm sure this is the best time to cause some mischief. Well, going outside is not mischief but God bless their souls for thinking that it is..." She smiled as she brought his chair out of the ward and into the big halls of the convent. They were lined with simple hardwood walls, occassionally decorated by a mural of a saint or two. She passed them by some sort of a back door out into the back courtyard of the church.


Past the cobblestone was a small garden, blossoming with a few flowers. With just hushed tones of what were screams and barked orders inside, it was a relatively peaceful place.

 

[creativemind]

His shoulders would relax once they made it outside. He took in a deep breath of fresh air and cleared his mind a moment shifting only slightly in the chair. "How long do you think I'll be here?", Mitchell asked her looking over at the sister. His eyes and mind much crisper than when they first met. He only vaguely remembered the green eyes hovering above him when he had initially been shipped to the convent for treatment. He was curious about the woman though. A thousand questions ran through his mind but he would wait patiently for her to answer the first before he would continue with his conversation.

 

[DulcetFlux]

"I'll give it a month or two, sir, although the doctors would probably recommend more," she said in a matter of factly tone as she stopped pushing the wheelchair when they were beneath an old shady tree. "I would be obliged to tell you not to rush things but then again, it's stuffy in there and having you suffer through seeing more and more young men brought in by the day is no way for a man to get better." She smiled just a little bit as she said that. "Being trapped in there all day long won't do you any good either. Thus, I always let the men here have just a slight taste of breaking the rules everyday."

 

[creativemind]

He nodded thinking a moment once they were under the tree. "You think it is possible to transition those of us who are just healing into a separate area? I think it would be easier for some of the men to be able to move about freely and have some sort of activities outside. These are working men you can't coup them up they'll go crazy.", Mitchell spoke. Always thinking as a leader, he was forming an idea of creating a section of just healing wing of men who could read, bathe, and move about freely without the pressures of the screaming and groans of those who are more wounded. His eyes would glance across at her.

 

[DulcetFlux]

"The Dalton family owns an estate not quite far from here. Considering that they're a wealthy family and most of their men were excluded from the ranks, they found it necessary for them to do something at least to alleviate the men's suffering, so they opened up one of the mansions on the estate to be a halfway house for men to recover in without being driven insane by completely sterile and doctor-driven regulations but the place is yet to be set up. Rest-assured, it will be open for recuperating men soon," she said as she sat on the grass beside his chair.

 

[creativemind]

Mitchell nodded, "That's nice of them I guess. If they're ready for a bunch of redneck Americans trampling on their estate." He laughed a little. Neither he or any of his men had been on any estate he was certain. These were working men. Blue collar and hard-working, a vacation on an estate might be a little surreal for them. "I appreciate what you've done for us...", he smiled a little his eyes sparkling toward her.

 

[DulcetFlux]

"It's the very least we could do for the men who put their lives on the line for our freedom," her tone was still light but more reverent now than her usual mischievous lilt. She looked at him with her dark green eyes and asked, "Did you leave any family home to fight for peace, Sergeant?"

 

[creativemind]

The way she spoke about it made it seem as though it was her family but she was a sister here at the convent. "Yeah, Mom and Dad all my brothers and sisters. I'm the youngest", he chuckled a little. He shifted in the chair a bit. "Sorry for the brashness but can I ask you a question? I've never even met a nun before.", he shrugged a little completely prepared for her to decline to speak about it.

 

[DulcetFlux]

"There's always intrigue in meeting a nun," she chuckled softly as she lazily plucked a blade of grass and a small weed's flower. "Go ahead. It's against my faith to hurt anyone who offends me anyway," she said in a light, jesting voice.

 

[creativemind]

He looked at her and suddenly lost his will to ask any question at all. "Nah, I'm alright. It's just a first for me. That's all.", he glanced down watching her pluck the blade of grass from the ground. "You think we can win this war against the Nazis?", he changed the subject to something less personal and more of a common topic of today's world. "I have to say even thought I'm here I hope the invasion went well.", he shrugged a little flashing his blue eyes toward her.

 

[DulcetFlux]

She took a while to respond as she played around with the blade of grass in her hand. The pigments from it very slightly stained her slender fingers a light green. She looked at the ground then at him once more, squinting as the sun was behind him. "I think I'm obliged to say that I wish for whatever God's will is..." She smiled and laughed ironically. "But I am human before being a nun and despite the destruction and carnage, I still believe in resolution... And I do hope this war ends soon for the sake of all, especially the men and their families."

 

[creativemind]

Mitchell would nod. His belief was much deeper than that and they had vowed to kill the Nazis although he couldn't admit to it before this woman of God. "Yeah, I guess the whole religion thing gets in the way of saying certain things.", he looked down at his hands. His nails were still a little gritty and longer needing a good trim. "You wouldn't happen to know where I could get a pair of clippers do you?", he asked obsessing over a nicked end of a nail before glancing up at her. "I'm gonna be ok. I've already told myself that...I gotta make sure all these guys get that same message too.", he looked at her his eyes pleading for more freedom and a pair of nail clippers. "Maybe there's a commissary I can get a health kit. It has everything I need. I've got plenty enough on my account to do that. If you can get me to the commissary...", he looked around, "I don't even know where I am... where am I?"

 

[DulcetFlux]

"St. Andrew's Cathedral... Well, you're in the convent, of course but it's jus behind St. Andrew's..." She thought for a while, thinking of tellin him that they had health kits ready for all the men in the convenience of the storage rooms in the convent but she knew it wasn't the clipers he was after but the chance to get up and do something, maybe ask a bit about the war from someone with a more tactical analysis.


"There's a commissary halfway between the convent and your base but in this, I'll have to be on the doctors' side and say we'll have to wait a few days before letting you out there." She tried to be stern in what her decision was but she remained gentle and understanding with a smile that told him that perhaps she'd waive her decision upon a bit more persuasion.

 

[creativemind]

"St. Andrews...where is that England? France? Someplace else?", he asked a little confused looking at her. "I agree I'm not fit to head down there now. Maybe in a couple of weeks.", he bobbed his head back and forth. He glanced toward the garden staring into space for a few moments. "I'll sit out here awhile if you don't mind.", he continued taking a deep breath of fresh air in through his nose.