“Where’s Paul?” her grandmother asked, as if noticing for the first time that he wasn’t with her.
Ruth’s serenity was instantly destroyed and she struggled to disguise her misery. “He went to the marines’ camp in California.”
“Oh.” Her grandmother seemed disappointed. “I imagine you miss him.”
Ruth decided to let the comment slide.
“I liked him a great deal,” her grandmother said, rubbing salt into Ruth’s already wounded heart. Helen’s focus was on her knitting, but when Ruth didn’t immediately respond, she looked up.
Ruth met her eyes and exhaled forcefully. “Would you mind if we didn’t discuss Paul?”
Her request was met with a puzzled glance. “Why?”
Ruth decided she might as well tell her. “We won’t be seeing each other again.”
“Really?” Her grandmother’s expression was downcast. “I thought highly of that young man. Any particular reason?”
“Actually,” Ruth said, “there are several. He’s in the military, which you already know.”
Her grandmother carefully set her knitting aside and reached for her glass of iced tea, giving Ruth her full attention. “You knew that when you first met, I believe.”
“Yes, I did, but I assumed that in time he’d be released from his commitment and return to civilian life. He told me that won’t be the case, that the military’s his career.” In for the long haul, as he’d put it. Granted, she’d known about his dedication to the marines from the beginning, but he’d known about her feelings, too. Did her preferences matter less than his?
“I see.” Her grandmother studied her.
Ruth wondered if she truly did. “What really upsets me is the heartless way he left. I told him I wasn’t sure I could live with the fact that he’d chosen the military.” The memory angered her, and she raised her voice. “Then Paul had the audacity to say I wouldn’t be hearing from him again and he...he just walked away.” Ruth hadn’t planned to spill out the whole story minutes after she arrived, but she couldn’t hold it inside a second longer.
Her grandmother’s response shocked her into silence. Helen smiled.
“Forgive me,” her grandmother said gently, leaning forward to give Ruth’s hand a small squeeze. “Sam did something similar, you see.”
The irritation died instantly. “I wanted to ask you about my grandfather.”
A peaceful look came over Helen. “He was a wonderful man. And he saved me.”
“From the Germans, you mean?”
Helen shook her head. “Technically, it was General Patton and the Third Army who saved us. Patton knew what Buchenwald was. He knew that a three-hour wait meant twenty-thousand lives because the Germans had been given orders to kill all prisoners before surrendering. Against every rule of caution, Patton mounted an attack, cutting off the SS troops from the camp. Because of his decisive move, the Germans were forced to flee or surrender. By that time, the German soldiers knew they were defeated. They threw down their guns and surrendered. Sam was with Patton on the march, so, yes, he contributed to my rescue and that of countless others. But when I say your grandfather saved me, I mean he saved me from myself.”
“I want to hear about him, if you’re willing to tell me.” Ruth straightened, perching on the edge of her seat.
Her grandmother closed her eyes. “I cannot speak about the years in Buchenwald, not even to you.”
Ruth reached for Helen’s hand, stroking the soft skin over the gnarled and prominent knuckles. “That’s fine, Grandma.”
“I wanted to die, wished it with all my heart. Without Jean-Claude, it was harder to live than to die. Living was the cruelest form of punishment.” Tears pooled in her eyes and she blinked them away.
“When the Americans came,” Helen continued, “the gates were opened and we were free. It was a delicious feeling—freedom always is—but one never appreciates it until it’s taken away. The soldiers spoke English, and I went to them and explained that I was an American. I had no identification or anything to prove my claim, so I kept repeating the address where my parents lived in New York. I was desperate to get word to them that I was alive. They hadn’t heard from me in almost five years.
“One of the soldiers brought me to their headquarters. I was completely emaciated, and I’m sure my stench was enough to nauseate anyone standing within twenty feet. The young man then took me to his lieutenant, whose name was Sam Shelton. From that moment forward, Sam took care of me. He saw that I had food and water, clothes and access to showers and anything else I needed.”
Ruth shuddered at the thought of her grandmother’s physical and mental condition following her release.
Her grandmother paused to take a deep breath, and when she spoke again, it was in another language, what Ruth assumed was German. Pressing her hand on Helen’s, she stopped her. “Grandma, English, please.”
Her grandmother frowned. “Sorry.”
“Was that German?”
She shrugged, eyes wild and confused. “I don’t know.”
After all those years inside a German camp, it made sense that she’d revert to the language. In her mind she’d gone back to that time, was reliving each incident.
“Go on. Please,” Ruth urged.
Helen sighed. “I don’t remember much about those first days of freedom.”
Ruth could easily understand that.
“Still, every memory I have is of the lieutenant at my side, watching over me. I was hospitalized, and I think I slept almost around the clock for three days straight, waking only long enough to eat and drink. Yet every time I opened my eyes, Sam was there. I’m sure that’s not possible, but that’s how I remember it.”
She picked up her tea with a trembling hand and sipped the cool liquid. “After a week—maybe more, I don’t know, time meant nothing to me—I was transported out of Germany and placed on a ship going to America. Sam wrote out his name and home address in Washington State and gave it to me. I didn’t know why he’d do that.”
“Did you keep it?” Ruth
