It was funny I should feel this way. I didn’t love Ben, in the sense that I loved Clark. My feeling for him was something entirely different altogether. Yet I felt the loss of him every minute of the day. I guess it was like one of those wonderful friendships between men: I mean, I didn’t look upon Ben from a girl’s point of view at all—he was just my pal, my buddy, my chum. And I guess it’s as bad to lose your chum as it would be to lose your lover.
—2—
I was back in Tours again on the 1st of December after wandering all over that rainy country. Received a letter from Leon saying that he was at St. Nazaire in a hospital and expected to be sent home on the next ship out. He was going to write to me as soon as he arrived, and as soon as he was discharged he’d have to do something about getting me out of this army. This was a devil of a predicament to be in: I couldn’t say that I wanted to go home, because I couldn’t be sure I could get out when I got there. We’d simply got to wait until Leon’s leg was all healed up, otherwise I’d be nabbed when I went up for discharge. I was beginning to get worried about it. The General was talking about asking to be sent back to the States. He said there were too many officers over there now and some younger man could do his work just as well as not. He asked me why I didn’t get a discharge over here and travel around a little.... How in the devil could I get a discharge! If I could get one, I’d get married.
I spent Christmas with Clark in Paris, and we managed to have a good time. He told me, for the first time, how sorry he was to hear about Ben. “The big galoot was a good man in all the ways that count,” he said, after I told him the details of the misfortune. “I’ll always be thankful to him for his effort in your behalf—it was wonderful!”
He wanted us to get married, but I absolutely refused. “If I were out of the army, I’d marry you in a minute,” I told him. “But I simply can’t now.... Besides, it just doesn’t seem right or decent, or anything.... I want to be married like all decent people are married. I don’t want to be dodging M.P.s and worrying about babies and having to play two rôles all the time day in and day out. Can’t you understand, dear?”
He did understand, but we couldn’t either of us think of any way to speed matters along. And the worst of it was that he expected to be sent back to the States within a few weeks on some mission or other. I probably wouldn’t get back over there for months.... But what could we do?
—3—
Our worst fears were realized. Early in January Clark told me that he was going back to Washington, leaving in three days.... And he was mad because I wouldn’t marry him before he went. But I wouldn’t—that was all there was to it. I’d got enough to worry about already without taking on any more worries.
A letter from Leon carried pleasant news. They took you from the ship when you landed in U.S.A. and made you take off all your clothes and take a steam bath while your clothes were being deloused. He said he hadn’t figured out any way of getting around the delousing plant, and I’m sure I didn’t know what I could do when that moment came. It began to look as if I was stuck in France for the rest of my life: couldn’t go home for fear of a delousing plant!
Well, I could stick it out, I suppose, until Leon got well and could come over here to take my place.