When I was fifteen my appendix burst three days before Christmas and I spent a week in the hospital. When I was sixteen I spent Christmas in the hospital again. That time it was because my tonsils had become inflamed and they had to be removed. The year I was seventeen I got to make another trip to the hospital where I was by now on a first name basis with the admitting clerk. My older sister who had recently married had the family over for Thanksgiving dinner. They said it was the turkey, but whatever it was it had the entire family in the emergency room having their stomach's pumped.That brings me to this year. I'm eighteen and Christmas is in five days and I am again in the hospital, this time with both legs broken and in traction. I was walking home from the library when a lady driving down the street hit a deep pothole, lost control of her car which veered up over the curb and onto the sidewalk and nailed me. God, but I do so fucking hate the god damned holiday season.I was. We hustled our way back to the Calais area hoping that the Germans and the French militia were too concerned with the possibility of the invasion turning up on their doorstep as well. Most of the checkpoints just waved us through without even checking our papers.My plan called for me to join the Patton wedge as he fought his way through the bureaucracy to get the petrol and the ammo that he needed to cut his way deep into German held territory. I knew I had to get Dolly and the two British airmen out of France and safely back in England so I called in a debt of honor with some of the coastal clinging sailors from Marseilles to carry them across the channel and drop them off in safe waters. I had grown attached to the French folks from Marseilles during my sojourn there and I remembered visiting it in the future century amazed at the numbers of youth that had no inkling at all about the struggle to just remain alive in a wartime environment.I hoped that both Roger and Dennis would get.
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