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When Children Cry

By CP

The men of King Company, 361st, 1st squad were exhausted. For the last several nights, Captain Jampel had sent them out on recon patrols to determine the strength of the Germans that were mounting a big push toward the American lines.

As they trudged wearily into the small town that was being used as temporary command post, Doc noticed that there were a lot of young children in the streets to greet the soldiers upon their return each morning.

Nudging the GI next to him he gestured toward the crowd of youths waiting for the men to pass by them. “Hey Caje, have you noticed that these kids are always here waiting for us?” The lean scout smiled at the medic. “Yeah, Doc, they’ve probably heard about Kirby’s ‘secret’ stash of chocolate.”

They made their way on past the children to the bombed out hotel that was their home for now. One of the smaller girls shyly walked up to the Americans. “Please sir, do you have anything to eat?” She kept her head down, unable or unwilling to look Doc in the eye.

Kneeling down beside the child, Doc took her small chin in his hand.

“Honey, where are your parents?” At this, the girl began to cry. “Papa is fighting the Boshe, and Mama was killed by the big guns that destroyed our house.” Doc’s gentle blue eyes misted at the tragic words that came from the little girl.

Just then Kirby stepped out of a building up the street and yelled at Doc.

“Hey, come in here and see what Sarge and Littlejohn found!” Taking the child’s hand, Doc walked slowly up the dusty street until he came to the building that the rest of the squad was in. As he entered the door, he saw that several of the young ones had followed along behind him.

Moving on inside the once grand hotel, he was surprised to see a long table filled with most of the makings of a home cooked meal. “Wha.., I mean, where did this come from?” He asked no one in particular.

Sarge smiled at his aid man. “Apparently some of the women in the town wanted to thank us for keeping the Germans from destroying the rest of their homes, so they cooked this meal for us.”

An idea came to Doc as he stood there, holding the little girl’s hand. “Hey Sarge, can I talk to you?” “Sure Doc. What’s on your mind?”

Leaning close to his NCO, Doc quickly told Saunders his idea. Pulling back, he studied the other man’s face. The light in the sergeant’s eyes and the genuine smile on his face told Doc that everything would be all right.

Leading the children to the table, laden with food, he told them that they were to eat their fill. Even Kirby, the company goldbrick and constant grouch, was hard pressed to find something to complain about as he watched the sight in front of him.

The men filled their plates and went to the other side of the room to enjoy the first home cooked meal in a very long time.

As Doc and the others finished up their dinner, he looked up to see the little girl coming toward him. Putting his plate to the side, he smiled at the child. Though her clothes were ragged from wear and her face was partially smeared with dirt, Doc thought that she looked like an angel.

Holding out her small hand, she gestured for Doc to give her his hand. When he held his out, she took his large hand in her small one and gave it a squeeze, before running off to find the other children

Later that night, when the soldiers went to their bedrolls, Doc noticed something lying on top of his. Picking it up, he saw that it was a silver angel. Holding it close to his heart, he said a silent prayer for the children, that they should cry no more. Especially the green-eyed angel that had truly captured his heart on this Christmas Eve.

The end.