Rose couldn’t breathe as she tried not to cry in front of three-year-old William, who was hysterical as he clung to his father, not wanting to let go.
On April 6, 1917, Congress had announced that they would be going to war, even though the United States had wanted to remain neutral. The war had been raging in Europe since August of 1914, but the sinking of the Lusitania by German U-boats in May of 1915 had been instrumental in bringing the United States into the war. In July 1917, conscription was introduced in the United States and men were drafted into the Army.
Jack Dawson was one of these men. Fabrizio had received his draft notice two weeks before and had already been sent to basic training. The gruesome stories in the newspapers had caused Rose to panic. Jack couldn’t go. He had a wife and a son. She couldn’t lose him, could she? William needed his father.
When Jack had dressed in his Army uniform, Rose had thought he had never looked so handsome. At first, William had thought his father was a hero, but when he learned he would have to go away for some time, he had cried every night. Rose had told him that Jack was a hero and that he would be back soon.
The train’s final whistle blew. Jack couldn’t tear himself away from his wife and son, not wanting to ever leave them. He tried everything not to cry and to keep a brave face for his family.
“Don’t worry, son. I’ll be back before you know it.”
He held his son in his arms, but William wasn’t convinced. At three years old, he wasn’t entirely oblivious to the war that was going on, but Rose had tried her hardest to shield her son from the pain and death that the war had caused. William said nothing, but put his arms around Jack’s neck so tightly that Jack began to cry.
“No, Will. I have to go, son.”
“No, Daddy.”
Rose attempted to pull her son away from Jack, but he wouldn’t let go. “Come on now, Will. Let Daddy catch his train. He will be back before you know it.” Hesitantly, William let go, buried his face in his mother’s hair, and cried. “Just go, Jack. I can’t bear to say good-bye anymore,” she told him, her eyes red from crying.
“All right.” He took her hand in his and leaned forward to kiss her lips just once. “I love you, Rose. Remember that.”
“I love you, too, darling. Write as soon as you get there.”
The train’s whistle sounded again and William shook, obviously scared of the loud noise. He had never liked trains. Taking one last look at Jack, Rose waved once before putting her arms around her son and walking away from her husband, not looking back once, knowing that if she did she would not let go of him.
“Daddy!” William called as they left the station.
*****
Rose did everything she could to calm him, just as she had every night since Jack had left. William called for his father in his sleep and sometimes even refused food. Rose hoped the war would be over soon for the sake of her and William and all of the other children and wives who had lost their husbands to it. Maria was coping horribly without Fabrizio. The twins proved to be a handful at almost four years old.
*****
Mother,
Life hasn’t been easy since Jack was drafted. Life is harder than ever. William refuses to sleep without me telling him stories of his father in the war. I make him out to be a hero, making all of the bad men go away, and then he goes to sleep, thinking of me and Jack. I promised him Jack would be home for Christmas to take him on his first big fishing trip, but I doubt that will be a reality. Why is the war happening, Mother? Why am I lying to my son and to myself just for comfort? I feel so alone and scared. I want my husband back in my arms. I am scared that he will die out there alone, and that I will be left alone with William.
Rose
As Ruth folded the letter from Rose, she noticed the ink smudges and guessed that she was crying as she wrote the letter. Ruth felt her heart break for her daughter, but as she was so far away, there was nothing she could do about it. Maybe she should visit her for a while. Asking Rose to come to Philadelphia would be more of a challenge now that William was to be starting school soon—plus the fact that he hated trains. It would be nice to stay with Rose for a while, to see more of her grandson and help out where it was needed.
Finding a piece of paper, Ruth began writing back to Rose.
*****
“Jacob, how many times do I have to tell you? Do not pull your sister’s pigtails!” Maria scolded. Jacob’s big brown eyes filled with tears and his lips trembled. He knew he had done something wrong.
“Have you had any word from Fabrizio?” Rose asked as she peeled some potatoes. Maria had come around for some dinner just like she did every Thursday. It gave them something to think about other than the war.
“Three days ago. He said that he saw three men die.” Maria closed her eyes. She could imagine the men being husbands and fathers.
“Oh, Maria. How is he? Obviously, besides the war.”
“Not so good. My Fabri—he’s such a sensitive soul. He wouldn’t harm a fly, and the fact that he’s out there having to shoot men is just…words can’t explain, Rose.”
Rose lowered the knife and the potato she was peeling over the sink. “Jack hasn’t written yet. I’m so scared I’m not going to hear from him again.” Rose began to sob.
Immediately, Maria shooed the children into the garden as she tried to comfort her. “He will write. He has to. He loves you so much.” Maria brought her arms around Rose’s shoulders in an attempt to comfort her friend, knowing the feeling very well.
Rose nodded, wiping her eyes. “I’m so sorry. I just have to hide all of this away in front of William, and I just let everything get on top of me.”
Maria knew how she felt. She had kept up the same false pretense in front of her children. “Rose, I understand. I have children, too…I cry myself to sleep.”
Rose wiped her eyes silently before realizing there were two broken hearts standing right there in her kitchen. How much longer could this war go on for? “We have to be strong for the children. My mother is coming in nine days to stay for a month. I hope that brings some comfort.”
“So do I, for your sake. Jack will write soon. I know he will.” Maria spoke with certainty in her voice. “There could be a number of things stopping him from writing yet. He may not be stationed yet, or he could have not arrived yet.”
Rose lowered her head, not bearing to think of Jack out in France alone. “You’re right.” She sighed, knowing she was jumping to conclusions, but it was hard to remain strong when all she had known for the last six years was a life with Jack, and now he had gone away and she was left alone with their son. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry, Rose. I know how you feel. Remember? My husband is at war, too.” Maria leaned her head against Rose’s and they both felt the pain in their hearts.
“We’d better let the children in. They’ll be starving.” Rose smiled, seeing the three children in the garden playing with a small ball.
*****
Nine days later, Ruth arrived in Santa Monica. She had never traveled alone before and had found the two-day train journey to be long, stuffy, and boring, so stepping off the train to see the sea in the distance was almost heaven. She found Santa Monica nothing like Philadelphia. It was airy and quiet, not a big city with new buildings being built all of the time.
Rose stood in the crowd of people at the station and almost ran to her mother when she caught sight of her red hair. Rose had left Will with Maria, knowing just how much train engines scared him.
“Oh, Mother.” Rose walked quickly towards Ruth, who embraced her tightly.
It had been almost three years since she had seen her mother last. Their lives had become so busy that having some time away from home was a rare luxury, and then the war had made it hard to travel, with ships sinking almost every day. Rose shivered, thinking about ships, and pushed the thought out of her mind to concentrate on her mother. She appeared a little older than she had, lines obvious now around her eyes, but she was still an attractive woman.
“How are you, Rose?” Ruth touched her daughter’s face, seeing how worn out she looked. The war had taken its toll on Americans, especially the young wives and mothers who had been left alone to worry what the outcome of the war would be.
“I’m just about holding up. Will is with a friend for some hours, so we can have some time together.”
“That’s good, but I do want to see my grandson later. It has been some time since I saw the cherub.” Ruth smiled. “Come now. Take me to the place you call home. We have some talking to do.”