An uneasiness swirled in her stomach. “Some of the blind have no family to care for them, and they have little chance of living a life outside of a government care facility. Guide dogs might give them hope and independence.”
Norbie leaned over the table and looked into her eyes. “I’m proud of you.”
Gratitude swelled inside her. “But I didn’t do anything. I merely happened to be in the garden to witness the event.”
“You work to save lives, each and every day,” Norbie said. “And you must have done something special, otherwise Dr. Stalling would not have confided in you.”
“Danke,” Anna said. An image of Stalling’s dog, licking the soldier’s hand, flashed in her brain. “If the school opens, I would love a chance to observe them train.”
“Why don’t you volunteer to help?” Norbie asked.
Anna straightened her spine. “The training will likely be carried out by the Ambulance Dogs Association. Besides, I know nothing about working with dogs, and I have little free time away from the hospital.”
“I think you’d be good at it,” he said, rubbing his beard. “I’ve always wanted you to have a dog.”
“You have?”
“Ja,” he said.
“Why didn’t we have one?”
Norbie clasped his cup. “Yourmutterand I had planned to get a dog when you were a child, but things changed when she became ill.”
She glanced to the living room, where hermutter’s piano had remained silent for years. A dull, timeless sorrow rose in her chest.
Anna’smutter, Helga, died from cancer when Anna was five years old. Helga had been an affectionate mother and spouse, and a soft-spoken, artistic woman who adored to sing and play the piano, despite having no formal musical instruction. Although Anna was young when hermutterdied, her memories of Helga were kept alive by Norbie’s tales of his beloved wife, which he told often and with copious variations to entertain his daughter. He often spoke of the angelic timbre of Helga’s voice, which lifted the spirits of parishioners when she sang solos in the church choir. The time that she’d helped Norbie trim his beard and inadvertently snipped off half of his mustache. The day that she gave birth to Anna, making Norbie and Helga—according to Norbie—the happiest couple in Deutschland. Aside from Norbie’s stories, Anna’s fondest memory of Mutter was of sitting on her lap while she played the piano. Despite the passing of years, she could still visualize Helga’s nimble fingers cascading over the keys. And she could almost feel the warmth of hermutter’s kisses, pressing into her hair.
“I was devastated when Helga died,” Norbie said. “I was overwhelmed with being both amutterand avater, and I was struggling to earn enough money to keep us fed and a roof over our head. But if I could do it over again, I would have gotten you a dog.”
“You were a wonderful parent,” Anna said. “I wouldn’t have changed a thing.”
He patted her hand, and then finished his coffee. “Perhaps it’s never too late to get a dog.”
It’d be difficult to properly feed a pet, given the rationing.Not wanting to dampen Norbie’s optimism, she smiled and nodded.
“I have something for you.” He stood, chair legs scraping over the weathered wood floor, and retrieved an envelope from a counter. “A letter arrived from Bruno.”
Anna’s heart leaped.
He gave her the letter, kissed her on the top of the head, and then made his way to the stairs.
“You don’t have to leave,” Anna said.
“There’s no need for me to infringe upon my daughter’s privacy. If you wish, you can tell me about it later.” He wiped his eyeglasses with a handkerchief from his trousers and descended the stairs to his workshop.
Anna, anxious to read the letter, retrieved a paring knife from a cabinet and opened the envelope. Her pulse quickened as she unfolded the paper.
Anna glanced at her bare finger. Her engagement ring was stored inside a pine keepsake box in her room. Due to her nursing duties, which required sterility, the wearing of jewelry on her hospital ward was prohibited. Although she had a sound reason for not wearing the ring, a twinge of guilt fluttered in her stomach.
“I miss you,” Anna whispered.
She wiped tears from her eyes, and then placed the letter into the envelope. Her heart ached for Bruno, the maimed soldiers at the hospital, and the countless men who would die before the fighting came to an end.How much longer must we wait until the war is over?Attempting to dispel the ache in her chest, Anna retrieved a pencil and paper, and she began to write.
CHAPTER4
HULLUCH, FRANCE—APRIL28, 1916
Bruno Wahler—a mustached, twenty-six-year-old Germanoberleutnantwith a dense, muscular build, like a Greco-Roman wrestler—was hunkered inside a small dugout, reinforced with rough-cut timber and sandbags. Sporadic shell explosions rumbled the earth, dropping bits of soil into his hair. It was after midnight on the western front, near the village of Hulluch. After two days of vicious battles, the trench attacks had paused. But before the sun would rise, another lethal German offensive—one that would utilize Bruno’s unique expertise—would commence.
