tell me now,

How do I live without you? I want to know.

How do I breathe without you, if you ever go?

How do I ever, ever survive?

How do I, how do I, oh how do I live?

The saxophone played louder, each note ringing deeper and harder in the hearts of the listeners. Balto and Jenna meet each other’s eyes again, and leaned closer to each other until their lips met.

If you ever leave, baby you would take away everything, need you with me

Baby ‘cause you know that you’re everything good in my life

A young man stepped onto stage and joined the girl suddenly. They took a quick breath and poured their heart and soul into the last chorus. Balto and Jenna embraced and kissed again, pouring their feelings into one another.

And tell me now

How do I live without you? I want to know.

How do I live without you, if you ever go?

How do I ever, ever survive?

How do I, how do I, oh how do I live?

How do I live? …Without you…

The couple smiled and bowed to each other.

Balto and Jenna met each other’s eyes for the third time that night and embraced warmly. Jenna rested her head upon his shoulder, and he held her close as they continued to dance.

“I love you Balto,” Jenna whispered.

“I love you, too,” he replied, gently kissing her cheek, “I’ll write to you every day, I promise Jenna.”

“And I’ll write back every day,” she replied, leaning back to look into his deep, golden eyes, “You better come home safe.”

“I will, Jenna,” Balto replied, looking back into Jenna’s bright amber eyes as they filled with tears, “I promise, Jenna. I’ll come back, and then we can pretend I never left at all.”

Later that night, Balto pulled into Jenna’s driveway and walked her to the door with his arm over her shoulder. She didn’t mind at all. When they reached the door, they kissed one last time, and then ascended the front steps together. Balto knocked softly on the door before opening it for Jenna.

He came face to face with Mr. Baker.

“Well, look who finally decided to show up,” the old husky growled, pointing angrily at the clock on the wall, “Half past eleven. I told you to have her back by ten!”

“Wait, you didn’t-”

“Don’t you dare talk back to me, you half-breed!”

“Papa,” Jenna interrupted, “Leave him alone!”

“You mind your place, young lady,” Mr. Baker replied, turning on his daughter, “Now get in bed. It’s late enough as it is.”

“Papa, please, he’ll be in the service tomorrow!”

“Is that so?” Mr. Baker said, turning back toward Balto, “In that case, you are forbidden to see my daughter as of tomorrow.”

“What?” Jenna exclaimed, “You can’t-”

“I am your father, and I will do what’s best for you,” he said, his eyes still fixed on Balto, who remained standing on the porch, “What? Still standing here? Get lost!”

“What do you have against him now?” Jenna demanded, “I’ve been friends with him for more than seven years!”

“When you were only friends, I tolerated him,” Mr. Baker growled, “And as long as I’m living, that’s as far as your relationship will go with him!”

Jenna stepped back in shock and disbelief with her hand to her chest.

“Jenna,” Balto said, ignoring Mr. Baker for a moment, “I’ll come back, I promise.”

“Not if I can help it,” Mr. Baker growled, marching forward, “Get off my property this instant or I’m calling the police.”

Balto retreated down the front steps and cast one last glance past him at Jenna. She silently mouthed the words: I love you.

Her father turned around, but by that time, Jenna stood motionless. While his attention was diverted, Balto mouthed back the words: I love you too.

“Jenna,” Mr. Baker said, his voice dropping to that of very mild annoyance, “Go on to bed…now. It’s very late.”

Jenna turned on her heels and went into her room, shutting the door behind her. But rather that go to bed, she parted the shades hanging over her window, and peered out into the driveway just as a pair of headlights turned out onto the street, and a car pulled away. Jenna let the shade fall into place, and fell onto her bed.

Burying her face in her pillow, she began to cry.

Chapter Three

Two Hearts in War

Months passed. Balto wrote to Jenna every day, as he had promised, and every day, Jenna wrote back.

My Dearest Jenna,

I am a paratrooper! I’ve missed you sorely these past weeks, but I’m holding out. I hope you are doing the same. I miss you more than anything, Jenna. Please forgive me for leaving so suddenly. Hopefully, by the time I get back, your father will have warmed up to me at least a little.

Will write again soon.

Balto

4 November 1943

Dearest Balto,

I am so proud of you. Your determination and kind spirit are an inspiration to everyone back here at home. Your mother misses you dearly, and has asked me to pray for your safekeeping. She needn’t worry. I’m already praying that you’ll be home soon. This new school year has been very lonely without you to walk me home from school. I miss those summer days watching the clouds roll by from the trees in my backyard. Every time I go out and lay on the hill by our house I think of you. Please come home safe.

With all my love,

Jenna

5 November 1943

Dearest Jenna,

We are leaving the States tomorrow. For where I cannot say. It will be harder to get a letter out to you, but I will do my very best. Hearing from you is like the voice of an angel. I pray the Lord will watch over you and mother.

Love,

Balto

25 November 1943

Dearest love,

It is wonderful to still hear from you, though not as often. Keep your friends close. Wherever you may be going, I’ll always be with you. Steele has been bothering me for a few weeks now. He seems to think that now that you’re not here, I’m free game. But don’t worry; I’ll be waiting for you when you come home. Steele can’t change my mind.

All my love,

Jenna

13 December 1943

Jenna, my love,

It is such a blessing to hear from you way over here. I’m sure by now you know I’m in Ireland. I hear we’re moving to England soon, but I can’t be sure. I miss you so much, Jenna. I hope you’ll still recognize me when I get back. Thank you for your picture. All my buddies keep asking if you have any sisters, imagine that!

With love,

Balto

17 December 1943

Dearest Balto,

I’m glad to hear your friends liked the picture, though I hope they don’t get any ideas. My heart belongs to you and you alone. It will be a lonely Christmas here without your smiling face. You do remember Christmas, don’t you? Steele hasn’t shown up for school for the past two weeks. I think he’s finally come to terms with you and I. Even so, I do hope he finds someone who loves him as much as I love you.

Please come home safe.

All my love,

Jenna

23 December 1943

Months passed, and the two sweethearts continued their written correspondence. As winter faded into spring, and then summer, though, Balto’s letters became more filled with emotion than ever before. It seemed as though he had perfectly transcribed the pulsing emotions from his heart onto paper. He praised Jenna and everything about her, from her soft eyes and lips to her slender legs. Jenna, flattered beyond compare, began sharing all of her deepest feelings for Balto with him, just as he had done for her.

Then, Balto’s letters suddenly stopped near the beginning of June. Jenna feared the worst, but quietly dismissed her worries, reasoning that Balto had not mentioned deployment, and for a while she believed herself…

…until she saw the headline of the local paper on the morning of June 7th.

Allies Launch Invasion of Europe

Her heart sank. She knew that Balto was among the brave young men jumping into battle deep behind enemy lines, and immediately redoubled her prayers for his safety.

Please God, march with him and protect him. Bring him home.

12 June, 1944

Balto marched in line with the rest of his fellow paratroopers down a dirt road in France. A few minutes ago, they had passed a sign with the name CARENTAN written on it. Just over the crest of the hill ahead, he could make out rooftops. Hello, Carentan, he thought absent-mindedly. As they neared the town, Balto’s mind wandered to the night of June the fifth, barely a week past.

On that night, he and many hundreds more paratroopers of the 506th had been dropped deep into occupied France, their overall objective: To make a path for the seaborne troops to arrive on the beaches of Normandy the next morning. The problems had started over the supposed drop zones. The sky had suddenly lit up with anti-aircraft fire, claiming a at least four C-47s, their crews, and most if not all of the paratroopers inside. To make matters worse, some pilots had flown too low or too fast, and the equipment had been physically torn off the paratroopers by the prop blast. Once they hit the ground, most were sparsely armed, some not at all. And yet somehow, the men of Easy Company had managed to regroup by early morning the next day.

The rattle of a machine gun brought Balto out of his recollections. The radio man in front of him broke into a run toward the town, and he followed close behind, not entirely sure why. He and the radioman reached a small shed and flattened themselves against it, glad to be out of the machinegun’s sights.

“Where is everybody?” he shouted to the radioman. The radioman, with his small M1 carbine, was busy trying to suppress the machine gun, and did not appear to hear him. “Where is everybody?” he repeated, louder this time. The radioman immediately snapped his head around and replied just as loudly,

“I have no idea!”

As the radioman returned to his suppression of the MG, Balto cast a quick glance over his shoulder toward the road, where the rest of Easy should have been. Most of the men, however, were lying in the ditches on either side of the road, doing their best to stay