had moved close enough to read the message for herself, began to cry, and covered her muzzle to muffle the sobs. She buried her face in her father’s shoulder; he raised his eyes to the heavens as if to ask: Why?

“It’s not true, it can’t be true,” Jenna whimpered, “I just got a letter from him today!” She pulled the letter from her pocket and everyone looked in surprise. In the upper left corner was written:

Corpsman Roe

24 December

For Sgt. Balto Tyrell

No one spoke. Finally, Jenna opened the envelope with trembling hands. Inside was a letter written slowly and deliberately on faded sheet of paper. To overcome with emotion to speak, she handed it to her father, who read it aloud:

Miss Jenna Parker,

In case that you have not yet received word, I regret to inform you that your dear friend Balto has been killed in the line of duty. I cannot say exactly how he died, but in dying he saved the lives of many fellow soldiers. He was a magnificent soldier and an example for all of us in Easy Company. I cannot even begin to comprehend the tremendous loss you must now feel, and will not try to comfort you, seeing how I do not know what it’s like to loose someone so very close to your heart. Just know that Balto thought often of you, and is undoubtedly watching over you at this moment. You have my deepest and most heartfelt sympathy. I pray that God may comfort you in this time of pain and sorrow.

Corpsman Eugene Roe

Easy Company

Long before her father ever finished the letter, Jenna had broken down into deep sobs and collapsed into her mother’s arms. As her chest heaved with sob after heart-wrenching sob, her father regretted more and more everything he’d ever said against his daughter’s love for Balto. Now too full of despair to even speak, the five moved into the living room and sat down. Jenna clung to her mother, crying still, as she would for many hours.

In the hall, the grand father clock struck twelve. No one even noticed.

7 January, 1945, one week later

Among the falling snow in the fields outside Bastogne, Doc Roe was warming his hands by the first fire he’d seen in weeks. It was pathetically small, but more than enough to do the job.

Suddenly, his ears perked up at the cry for a medic. Cold forgotten, he leapt from his foxhole and dashed across the frozen ground, dodging trees and bushes as the cries rang louder and louder in his ears. Finally, he came upon a group of soldiers huddled around a figure lying on the ground.

“Move, move,” Roe cried, pushing aside the huskies to see the casualty.

His clothes were covered with snow and torn in several places. Across his chest was a series of bandages browned with dried blood. When Roe looked to identify him, he found the task nearly impossible. The husky’s face was so covered in blood and dirt that he resembled no soldier he’d ever seen before. Stranger still, the male’s dog tags were missing. Even so, by the patch on his soldier, Roe knew the man was a paratrooper of Easy Company. Casting his own feelings aside, Roe put his head to the husky’s chest and cursed himself.

“Sweet Jesus, this man’s still alive!” he cried.

“But he ain’t bleeding,” one of the surrounding paratroopers said.

“Shut up and give me a hand here,” Roe demanded, wedging his hands under the husky, “We have to get this guy to an aid station or something quick!”

Much later, Roe stood in front of Colonel Winters outside of a Red Cross tent.

“And you don’t even know who he is?” Winters asked, baffled.

“That’s correct, sir,” Roe replied.

Winters nodded.

“Come with me.”

The two moved inside the tent and Winters examined the husky from head to toe, noting the prevalence of dried blood, but also the lack of new blood.

“How’s he doing, doc?” Winters asked the surgeon bending over him.

“Well, I got the bullet fragment out,” the surgeon replied, motioning to a bandaged wound just above the husky’s left eye, “He’ll have one hell of a headache, but I think he’ll make it. Lucky for him he was such a good doctor.”

“Excuse me?” Roe said, cocking his head.

“Well, these two bandaged wounds you indicated earlier are mostly healed. This guy managed to pull the bullet out and keep himself from bleeding to death for more than a week.”

“How in God’s name can we loose a man for a week and not notice?” Winters demanded of Roe.

“I don’t know sir, I…” Roe suddenly looked at the husky’s shoulder. “…Holy shit.”

“What is it?” Winters asked.

“I know who he is, sir,” Roe replied, pointing to the husky’s shoulder.

On it was the patch of a sergeant.

In Spring Falls, Jenna was just arriving at The Rose for her first day back on the job. For several days since she’d first received Eugene Roe’s letter, she had sunk into deep grief and sorrow, but she was slowly coming to terms with the loss of Balto. Even so, it would be a long time before she could speak of him without bursting into tears. The ceremony had been the largest reason for her sadness.

Two days past, she had accompanied Mrs. Tyrell to the nearly empty school auditorium, where a somber ceremony had been held in memory of Balto. More than three quarters of the town’s residents showed up. As an honor guard, fully clad in the Army dress uniform, stood by her side, Mrs. Tyrell accepted a folded American flag from an Army commander. Jenna watched from a chair in the front row. The commander then produced two boxes from his case, and handed the first the honor guard, who opened it. Inside was a small heart-shaped medal; the Purple Heart. Mrs. Tyrell nodded sadly and the honor guard closed the case. The commander opened the second, slightly larger box himself, revealing a golden medal in the shape of a five-point star.

“In lieu of the evidence and testimony passed down from his fellow soldiers and company commander, and by the President’s recommendation, I posthumously award your son with the Medal of Honor,” he said solemnly, “For conspicuous gallantry above and beyond the call of duty in service to his country. Mrs. Tyrell, please accept this humble measure of thanks from a grateful nation for the loss that you have endured.”

Her hands trembling, Mrs. Tyrell reached out and feebly took the box in her hands. Gingerly, she removed the medal and draped it carefully over the flag. She then held out her free hand for the other box, which the honor guard respectfully gave to her. With that, she turned to the commander and said,

“I can’t accept these.”

Before the shocked commander could speak, she turned around.

“Jenna,” she said softly, stepping from the stage, “You keep these. You deserve them much more than I do.”

Jenna rose to her feet and hesitantly accepted the flag and medals. Tears filling her eyes, she whispered her thanks and sat down, overwhelmed by emotion. Mrs. Tyrell sat down beside her.

As she entered The Rose, she felt everyone’s eyes on her. Balto had been the only resident of their small town to enlist, and now that he was gone word of her relationship with her had slowly come to light, making her the center of attention. Though it may have crossed many a male’s mind, however, no one made any advances on her; she was grateful for their silent respect. Even John remained quiet and simply doffed his hat to her as she entered. As she tied on her apron, though, he motioned to her, and she came up to the counter.

“Miss Parker, I’m truly sorry for your loss, and I pray you’ll find comfort,” he said, “Just know that we’re here for you if you ever need us.” He motioned around the restaurant, and there was a loud murmur of agreement. Jenna blushed. As she moved from table to table, the patrons smiled reassuringly at her, and she managed to smile back.

Chapter Eight

All for the Sake of Love

23 January, 1945, sixteen days later

In the early morning hours, a slender figure made her way down the street in Spring Falls, Virginia. Jenna, sheltered by her umbrella from the rain, walked slowly up to The Rose. It was empty, and the doors were locked, but the covered benches on either side of the door were a welcome refuge from the rain. She gladly sat down and leaned back to close her eyes. She hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. Instead, she had lain awake for many hours, thinking back to her times with Balto, long before the war. She remembered just as if it were yesterday…

It was summer, barely three years ago. Jenna ran through the orchard, followed closely by Balto. They were both laughing happily. Soon, they came to a small hill on the far side of the apple trees. Atop the hill stood a young oak tree casting shade enough for two. While Jenna lay down in the shade, Balto climbed a nearby apple tree and picked an apple for each of them. After handing Jenna hers, he sat down beside her and began to eat.

“You know,” he said, “These apples aren’t half-bad.”

“Do you think so?” Jenna replied, “I think they’re too hard.”

“No, they’re just perfect.”

Jenna stood up and twirled about in the sunlight, letting the golden rays fall on her face. She didn’t notice Balto watching until he spoke.

“Wow…” he murmured softly.

Jenna heard him and stopped to face him.

“What is it?” she asked.

Balto was at a loss for words. Before him Jenna stood bathed in glorious sunlight. The golden beams danced around her entire figure except her head, where the backdrop of the sun created a sort of glowing halo just above her ears.

“You look beautiful,” he finally managed to say.

Jenna blushed.
“Thank you.” Just then, she turned her eyes to the sky. “Look,” she said, “that cloud looks like a dog.”

Balto looked up.

“I don’t see it.”

“Here,” Jenna persisted, lying down next to him, “look again.”

Balto lay down and looked up again.

“Hey, you’re right. I see it.” He pointed to another cloud. “That one looks like a bird.”

“And