Back in her time by Patricia Corbett Bowman Read Free Book Online Page A

go with Padre across those fields for some intelligence work.”
    â€œSure, Sarge.” Mac headed across the fields with the Padre. Taylor followed behind, picking up her rifle and slinging it over her shoulder. What is this? A night patrol? In daytime? The Padre plodded slowly through the bushy land as if to a funeral, and Taylor soon discovered why. German bodies, and those of a few civilians, were strewn across the landscape, partially hidden by the thick underbrush. Taylor tried to avoid looking at the dead, but her eyes were drawn to them. One was a young woman in her twenties, lying face-up with a large congealed blood spot in the middle of her bosom. Her arms were open wide as if to say, “Why me?” Another was a young boy lying in the fetal position. A black dog, of unknown breed, lay dead next to the boy, one paw stretched out protectively. Too late.
    Taylor started as an arm encircled her shoulders.
    â€œLeave them for now. We’ll bury them later. Check the soldiers for personal belongings — a letter home, anything that might indicate what they were planning next or where they were going.”
    Taylor nodded and knelt down beside a German soldier who had a bullet hole through the middle of his forehead. Taylor avoided the open, staring eyes and reached into the dead man’s tunic pocket. She fingered a package of cigarettes but couldn’t read the German labelling. Awkwardly, she reached into the man’s hip pockets and came up with a picture. On the back were some numbers and lettering, probably a date and a name, blurred from much fingering. Taylor turned the picture over to see the black and white shot of a fair-haired girl of about sixteen or seventeen. She returned the picture to the pocket and moved on to the next body.
    Mac yelled, “Cripes! I’ve got Jerry blood all over me! He jumped up, flinging one hand away. Some of the red gooey stuff flew off and hit him in the face. Mac brushed his hands over his head as if he were hit by a barrage of bullets. Taylor rushed over and pulled out the handkerchief Nurse Alma had wrapped the biscuits in and wiped Mac’s face. Gawd, I hope the blood washes off so I can return this to her someday. Taylor took a closer look at the handkerchief and started to laugh.
    Mac shoved Taylor, “You wouldn’t think it so funny if you had Jerry blood all over you.”
    Taylor couldn’t help laughing. She struggled to talk as tears coursed down her face. The Padre rushed over. He too started to laugh when Taylor showed him the handkerchief.
    Mac stood with feet spread apart, staring at them. How could they both laugh at his situation? Taylor finally blurted out, “It’s not blood. It’s a jam ration.”
    Mac lifted his right hand and stared. He stuck a finger in his mouth. “Yummy, strawberry.” The three soldiers bent with laughter. The cleric was first to somberly order the others to get on with the task at hand.
    â€œAre you going to tell the guys when we get back, Junior?”
    Taylor smirked and bent over another body.
    When all the bodies had been inspected, with one letter and one official-looking paper found, the Canadians got their shovels and started the job of burying the bodies in pebbly, shallow graves. It was hot, sweaty work, but they found a rhythm to the digging and finished as long shadows played across the ground. Taylor was surprised she could work alongside the others, her muscles not complaining any more than Mac’s. Must be all that ditch-digging I’ve done.
    Mac and Taylor bid goodbye to the Padre and picked up their pace to catch up to their unit, which had moved ahead almost to the farmhouse Taylor had observed earlier. Dropping down beside Whitey, who was lying prostrate in a long, deep ditch, Taylor whispered, “What’s up?”
    â€œAble sent some scouts up to the farmhouse, and they haven’t returned. We think there’s a gun emplacement up