THE GREAT WAR
Chapter Four
The Olympic docked in New York
Harbor at eleven o’clock AM on July 27, 1918. The sun was shining brilliantly,
and as the ship passed the Statue of Liberty, Jack was filled with new hope. He
saw the lady guiding her city more proudly than anything.
It was good to be home. It was
cold here in winter, but he called this place his home. He could fill his lungs
with American air and be happy and proud to be an American.
Brief memories of when he had
docked with Rose six years before on the Carpathia filled his mind, but he
pushed them away. He was home. He would see his Rose for the first time in
almost a year.
First class was allowed to
disembark first, then second, and then third. Jack didn’t mind that he would be
last. He gathered together the last of his belongings and walked up on deck.
He had decided to not use his
crutches. He wanted to greet Rose as the man he was and the man she knew.
He walked down the gangplank and
saw hundreds of faces, relatives meeting their family and friends. He looked
around for Rose. His eyes scanned the crowds, but he couldn’t see that familiar
pretty face.
He settled himself on a small
bench away from all of the hustle of the people and lit a cigarette. He knew he
shouldn’t smoke with how weak his lungs had become in recent months, but he
puffed away on it anyway.
He figured Rose was running a
little late and sat on the bench until the crowds of the people disappeared and
he was alone.
About half an hour later, a car
pulled up along the sidewalk where Jack was sat. He heard voices from inside
and wondered what all of the commotion was about.
The passenger door opened and a
familiar voice called out to him. It was Abigail.
He smiled at once and picked up
his luggage. Abigail ran around the back of the car.
"Rose is in labor,
Jack!" she yelled. "Hurry into the car. We’ll take you there."
That was it. Jack immediately
dumped his luggage into the trunk of the car and got in. The short journey was
spent with Jack fiddling around with the smallest things, his brain swirling
with the fact that anytime now he would become a father. He felt as though he
was in a long, peaceful dream, and soon he would wake up and find himself in
the small hospital bed in England.
He hated the fact that Rose was
alone right now. He hated that he couldn’t be there to comfort her.
"How long has she been in
labor?" Jack asked Abby.
"Since the early morning. I
was told to pick you up, but I wouldn’t leave until the doctor was with her.
She was asking for you all day, Jack."
Tears welled in Jack’s eyes. He could
be a father now.
As they reached the house, Jack
rushed out and ran up the porch steps. The house hadn’t changed much, but Rose
had kept the garden neat and tidy. New flowers had been planted and made the
garden a peaceful place.
Rose’s screams of pain could be
heard from outside. Jack stumbled up the stairs as best as he could, despite
the pain from his leg.
His heart beat harder than
before. He entered the bedroom and there she was. His Rose. His beautiful Rose.
"I am afraid I am going to
have to ask you to leave, sir." The doctor noticed Jack in the doorway.
Rose moved her head and tilted it towards Jack. Immediately, she reached out
her hand to him. He grabbed it and kissed her head.
"You’re here. You’re finally
here, my darling," she spoke, smiling through her tears and pain.
"Sir, I have to ask you to
leave," the doctor repeated.
"I’m staying, doc. I’m the
father." Jack gently stroked and held Rose’s hand.
"A child’s birth is not for
a young man to witness," the doctor stated.
"Sir, with what I have
witnessed since I went to war, the birth of my child is heaven."
The doctor’s eyes widened
slightly. It was not common for men to witness their children’s births.
"He’s staying," Rose
confirmed.
The doctor nodded, defeated.
The fact that Jack was now there
was indeed heaven.
"You’re well on your way,
Mrs. Dawson, but it could still be a while." The doctor left the room.
Rose hardly even listened to what
he said. Her eyes gazed into Jack’s intently as he stroked her wet hair. She
touched his face to check if it was real.
"You’re here," Rose
repeated once again through her tears.
"I am, my darling. I am
never letting you go again. The past nine months were the worst of my life. You
gave me hope to go on, Rose."
He bent his head slightly and
kissed her lips for the first time in nine months.
"I missed this. I missed
you."
"I missed you, too. Not
waking up next to you every day, feeling the baby kick--it was hell,
Jack."
"I know." He nodded. He
kissed her hand once again, not wanting to let go. This didn’t feel real.
After all of the pain and hell he
had endured for the last nine months, the war, the attack, and being in the hospital
for months, he had thanked Dr. Long for his kindness over and over. Jack had
hugged his doctor good-bye and they had even shed a few tears, as they had
become such good friends without even knowing it.
Dr. Long had been his angel
through all of the hell in those few months. He had to pretty much learn to
walk again, and there he was to help.
They had exchanged addresses and
planned to write. Dr. Long had expressed a great deal of interest in the baby
and wanted to know how it all went and how he felt as a father.
Just the idea of the fact he was
about to become a father was overwhelming. He had waited so long for this
moment, and now that it was here, he didn’t know what to do. He wasn’t calm. He
felt as though he could scream from the rooftops.
This would be the proudest moment
of his life.
For Rose, the labor seemed to
last forever. She had retired to bed the night before at around midnight,
dreaming of the next day when Jack would be arriving home. She dreamt of
meeting him and what a tearful reunion they would have.
At around four AM, she had felt
funny. Her abdomen had felt sore and achy and the baby seemed to move around
vigorously. She could feel the baby’s tiny hands wiggling in her womb, and when
she stroked her stomach, the baby moved slightly.
At 4:25, she had felt her water
break. She had run the best she could into Abigail’s room and awakened her.
The pair had waited until dawn
and then Abigail had gone to fetch the doctor before returning. Rose had
ordered her to meet Jack at the docks.
Rose had awaited their return for
two hours, and the baby had still not been born.
Now, she was here with Jack.
"Jack, the pain is
terrible!" Rose cried a little and clung to his hands.
"I know. I wish I could take
away all of your pain. I wish I could."
"But it will be here soon,
Jack."
"We’ll be parents
soon."
The last nine months had been
hard for Rose. She had never lived alone before. Abigail had been a big help,
but she wasn’t Jack. She needed her man about the place. She needed her
husband, just as her baby needed its father. She had feared Jack wouldn’t be
home in time to see his child born.
Three hours passed and as the
doctor yelled, "One last push, Mrs. Dawson!" Rose did as she was
told. She ignored the pain of childbirth and pushed downwards one final time,
and as she did, she felt her child slip out of her.
The loud cries of an innocent
newborn filled the room and Rose’s puffy, crying face was soon weeping tears of
joy and happiness.
She turned to Jack, who gently
touched her cheek and then kissed her forehead lightly. She was sweating and he
could taste it on his lips, but he didn’t care. She had just brought their
child into the world.
The midwife took the little one
into the bathroom, where she cleaned up the baby and placed him securely and
warmly into a small white blanket. The baby intently closed his eyes and began
to drift off.
Minutes later, the midwife
returned and handed the small bundle to his mother.
"It’s a little boy, Mrs.
Dawson. You have a son," the midwife said calmly. The look on Rose’s face
was blissful. The midwife had to think to herself she had help deliver hundreds
of babies during her twenty year career, but never had she felt so much in the
presence of true love as she did at this moment.
"A son?" Jack repeated,
as if checking to see if all of this was reality.
"Yes, Mr. Dawson. You have a
son."
The midwife left the room,
followed by the doctor minutes later as he packed up his necessities.
"Congratulations. He’s a
good weight, too. Six pounds, twelve ounces. I’ll be around in the morning to
check on the little mite. Until then, enjoy him. They don’t stay babies for
long. They’re soon little terrors." The doctor laughed, thinking of
himself and his wife. They had seven children. The youngest was twelve now, but
he remembered them all as babies. He realized that he was ranting a little, so
he quickly said his good-byes and left the room, leaving the two new parents
all alone for the first time with their newborn son.
He lay contently in the blanket.
His small body wriggled about in the blanket and Rose could feel his tiny feet
almost kicking around.
He had a small tuft of light
blond hair and a perfect, pert nose, just like his father’s. His lips were his
mother’s, soft and full. People had always said to Jack and Rose, "You
won’t know what the baby inherits from who until it’s older," but this
little boy was a perfect mix of both.
He opened his eyes slightly and
then opened his small mouth and let out a wail. His tiny, bare gums were
visible as he wailed. Rose gently rocked him in his small blanket, back and
forth. He soon closed his eyes again.
"He has your eyes,
Jack," Rose whispered, still rocking her son. The silence was broken
between the two new parents. They were both so in awe of the small person
laying in his mother’s arms.
"I know. He has your chin,
though."
Rose laughed a little.
"I never knew motherhood
could be like this."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, Jack. I thought it
was magic and special, but by God, this is so much more. The love I have for
this little boy is more overwhelming than I thought. I feel I have to do
everything I can to keep him safe and happy. I feel as though I’m flying,
Jack…"
Jack laughed a little,
remembering the meaning of flying.
"I know, Rose. I could cry
for hours now, just looking at him. I’ve never felt so emotional." With
that, a tear ran from Jack’s eye and he did his best to conceal it.
"I know. Me, either. God,
I’m so new to all of this. I’m so in awe I could just gaze for hours at his
small, perfectly beautiful face."
"We’re both new to this,
Rose. But we’ll learn. I’m here now, Rose. I’m not going anywhere, ever again,
Rose. I almost missed this, and now that he’s here, I don’t want to miss a
second of our child growing up."
Rose could feel her eyes welling
up a little just at the thought of Jack leaving now that their son was here.
Just the thought made her want to give up.
"It was so hard, Jack. The
days were long and boring. The nights were cold and lonely. The baby kicked all
of the time and I would have given anything to just have you here for one
minute to feel him moving around."
Rose felt the tiny body within
the blanket begin to stir. He whimpered a little before opening his eyes--his
beautiful, sea blue eyes.
"Look at him, Rose. Look at
how perfect he is." Tears spilled from Jack’s eyes and he gently touched
his little boy’s tiny fingers for the first time. He stroked them gently. It
seemed to have a calming affect on his son. It was as if he knew his father was
there to comfort him. "Do you ever think I could leave now? I couldn’t
bear to leave you, Rose, but I did, for King and country and all of that shit.
But I’m here now. The war is no longer important. You and this little boy
are."
"But the war is still going
on, Jack. They could send for you again!" Rose panicked.
"No, Rose--" Jack was
hesitant to tell her this now, but he knew he had to. All of the attention
would be on their baby for a while, but she would find out someday anyway. He
didn’t want to frighten her or make her feel ill with details, but he had to
tell her. "They won’t send for me, Rose. I’m considered unfit to
fight--" Jack trailed off.
"But you are fit--"
"No. I was involved in a
mustard gas attack in France back in April. I was thought to be dead when I
arrived at the hospital, but I was one of the few who didn’t die. I was moved
to a rehabilitation hospital in England. I had to learn to walk again and I
suffered slight memory loss. Rose, I may have to walk with a cane for the rest
of my life. I also have permanent burn scars on my stomach and the top of my
right leg and a little on my left."
Rose gasped, not being able to
take this sudden information in. That was why he hadn’t written for months? The
day had been too much for her, and she suddenly felt a lot of anger inside of
her. Anger at the war. Anger at whoever did this to her Jack and thousands of
other men around the globe who were risking their lives in the damned war. It
wasn’t a holy war, not by far, no matter what people said. It was a cruel,
vicious attack on innocent people.
Tears fell from Rose’s eyes as
she clasped her son as if she would never let him go.
"Oh, God, Jack. Please tell
me you had no pain. Please."
"I had pain, Rose, but not
anymore. You had pain, too, but no more, Rose. No more. We’re here now
together, and nothing will ever stop that or take it away. We have a child now,
Rose. We have to be strong, because we’re parents."
Rose nodded, still feeling sick
at the thought of Jack being alone in a hospital bed for all of those many
months of agony.
"I’m so proud of you, Rosie.
You gave me this perfect little boy. I will never be able to thank you
enough."
"I will never be able to
thank you enough for bringing yourself home to see all of this."
"Don’t thank me. Thank Dr.
Long." Jack smiled, thinking of the kind doctor back in England who had
done wonders for Jack’s confidence and health. He had brought Jack back to
life, and then, when he was at his lowest, he had bought him a ticket home.
"Who?" Rose asked.
"Never mind. So, what are we
going to call this little one?" Jack smiled, peering over the blanket.
"How about William? After
your father, Jack?"
He gazed up at Rose. He had never
expected her to suggest that name. She knew how much his father had meant to
him when he was a boy. He wanted his son to have the same closeness as he had
to his father.
"Really?"
"Yes. I know how special he
was to you. I just wish he could have been here to meet me and to see his
grandson."
"Yeah. Me, too. God, he
would have loved you, Rosie, and little William here. He would have been so
proud to hold his grandson in his arms."
"So, we’ll go with
William?" Rose asked. Jack nodded in awe. "Jack? Do you want to hold
William?" Rose whispered softly. Jack nodded.
He sat on the edge of the bed and
placed one arm around his beautiful wife. In the other, he took his son and
held him close to his body.
He could feel his warmth, and he
loved the smell of the baby. He was so pure and innocent and so unexposed to
what was happening in the world right now, but Jack hoped he would never find
out. Because he hoped there would never be another war as violent as this. Not
another world war where so many innocent people were sent to their deaths.
Jack knew he would do everything
in his power to shield his son from the world’s horrors.
Jack gently kissed Rose’s hair
and smelled her scent for the first time in nine months. Her body was warm as
she leaned against him. Her fingers gently touched her son’s tiny feet and she
smiled tiredly.
"I love you, Rose," he
whispered softly, hoping she heard him.
"I love you, too," she
replied.
Moments later, Jack saw that her
eyes were closed and she was sound asleep. It certainly had been a big day for
everyone in the Dawson family. William opened his blue eyes for a brief moment
and Jack smiled, seeing them properly for the first time.
"Hey, handsome," Jack
whispered. William closed his eyes and wriggled as if getting comfortable and
then drifted back to sleep. Jack smiled. He would be sitting here for some
time. Rose was asleep against him and William asleep in his arms, but Jack
didn’t care. This was where he wanted to be, now and forever.
Jack thought, though, of all of
the tragedies which had occurred in the world--the Titanic, the magical ship
where he had first laid eyes on his Rose.
He had lost his best friend,
Fabrizio, who had almost been the brother he had never had. Together, they
could do anything. Fabrizio had known of Jack’s feelings for Rose and had
backed him all of the way. He had been a big believer in true love and Jack had
hoped that someday Fabrizio would find his. He never had.
Tommy, had been a proud Irishman.
He’d become something of a friend and he, too, had never been recovered from
the wreck.
But the war--the war was
something else. The war was something which was cruel beyond recognition. No
one knew what the conditions were unless they were on the front line, and Jack
had been.
He had made friends with two
innocent family men, both of whom were lost in the mustard gas attack on the
morning of April 30, 1918.
This war was a cruel, cold war,
something which shouldn’t even occur in nightmares. The number of casualties
and deaths had been high since the damned war had started in 1914. Over twenty
million soldiers had been killed in the war already. Twenty million men--they
were men, not just figures.
*****
At eleven o’clock AM, on November
11, 1918, the eleventh hour of the eleventh month of the eleventh day, the war
ended. Approximately thirty-seven million, four hundred thousand soldiers had
died. The total number of men who were wounded from all countries was over
twenty-one million. The Germans evacuated their positions, returned to Germany,
and admitted defeat. Although Britain had won the war, it still didn’t fill any
holes that were left open by the Great War.
On June 28, 1919, Germany signed
the Treaty of Versailles, which stated that the Germans should take full
responsibility for the whole war.
Germany was commanded to pay
eleven billion, three hundred million pounds back to the other countries, which
was the estimated cost of the war.
Germany was stripped of its land
and the German economy became weak, although justice was never really to be done.
Men still died in tragic
circumstances, leaving widowed women and fatherless children.
Land was destroyed, ships were
sunk, and bombs were dropped.
And the world was never the same
again.
The End.