Chapter 12

I was led to an ambulance and taken to a barracks for the night. The next morning an ambulance took me and some other men to a ceremony on the parade grounds. I tried to walk out in time to the bands beat, but I just couldn’t move my legs that fast, even with the two canes. I was led to, and fell in ranks with, seven other men. I looked at them and didn’t know any of them. All, like me, showed signs of having been wounded.

A captain and a general walked down the line. In front of each man, the captain loudly announced, “Attention to orders!” and then he read off the deeds of the men in the ranks before me. Awards were then pinned on each man’s chest. The two men before me had each been awarded the Silver Star. It didn’t take a genius to see that the awards were more prestigious as the general moved down the ranks.

“Attention to orders!” The captain then began to tell of my experience with the three machine gun nests. I hadn’t realized that I’d killed twenty-seven men and destroyed the three machine gun nests as well as four mortar positions. I also wasn’t aware that I’d done all of that after having been wounded several times. It turned out that the various shrapnel wounds had been from both grenades and mortar fire as the Germans tried to retake the second machine gun nest I was firing from.

Then came the words I would never have expected, “Sergeant Paul Michael Rory O’Dell distinguished himself conspicuously by gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of his life above and beyond the call of duty in action involving conflict with an enemy on April 15, 1918. Therefore by order of Congress, Sergeant Paul Michael Rory O’Dell is award the Medal of Honor of the United States Army.”

The general pinned the blue ribbon with the gold star and the green wreath on my chest, then stepped back and saluted me. I was in shock. What was I supposed to do now? The other men did not salute but took the offered hand of the general. I looked down and there was the hand extended. I took it.

“Congratulations Sergeant O’Dell. I’m proud to be able to make this award on behalf of the President and the Congress.”

“Thank you General. I don’t feel worthy.”

“You are son. You are.”

The captain gave the order to the Sergeant Major and he had all of us turn and march off the parade ground. We returned to the barracks where we were given the boxes for our medals. They contained the small ribbons that were to be worn on the left breast of our uniform. We were informed that there would now be a meal offered and myself and the two Silver Star awardees would sit at the head table with General Pershing.

During the meal, I was seated next to the General and at one point he looked at me and quietly spoke from the heart.

“Sergeant O’Dell, I went to West Point and met many men that were not your equal and that, son, is why we are going to win this war. Not because of our leaders, but because of the courage of the men following. Men like you. Thank you and I wish we could end this war sooner. Our country gains nothing by losing others of your caliber.”

So that was General “Black” Jack Pershing. Nice man.

I was given a envelope that explained the benefits that I was to receive in addendum to the award. I got a boost in pay, a yearly stipend of almost $1000, and a promise that my sons would have an automatic referral to West Point. We were then loaded on a boat and shipped home. We prayed the entire way that a sub wouldn’t find us. It must have worked, since we arrived in New York City safe and sound.

As soon as I could I sent a telegram home telling my mother that I was home and would be in Boise in about a month after I was processed out. I didn’t tell her about the medal or the wounds. I didn’t have to. As it turned out the Army did a press release to the Idaho Statesman. They told my hometown all about my exploits and my wounds.

They made it all sound much more dramatic than I thought it was. I was just trying to save my soldiers. Needless to say when my train pulled into the station the crowd was much more than I expected. Boise is the state capital, so the Governor was there as well as the city mayor. I was just interested in my mother and sister and cousin.

While I’d been gone, Pauli had married Creighton and they had a child. Michelle lived with her girlfriend, Juanita, I guess from mother’s letters that they were living like they were married. When I was over there, I’d spent several quiet nights thinking about my future. My future used to include one Patty Pindar, but after she graduated high school, she went off to college and I lost track of her. She wrote infrequently and none of the letters professed the love I thought we felt for each other.

The Governor made a speech. The Mayor made a speech. Mr. Bates, my former high school principal, made a speech. They asked me to say a few words and the fewest words I could say before I choked up were, “Thank you.” Then I waved to the crowd and headed for my mother.

“Son, that was short and sweet.”

“I know, mother, but I just don’t want people to make a fuss. I mean in my mind I’m just a guy that got shot in the ass.”

“What?” my mother said quietly, causing me to chuckle.

“I’ll tell you when we get home. Are Pauli or Michele going to be there?”

“Michelle will be there with Juanita. Pauli is pregnant again and didn’t want to travel and deal with the crowds, but she and Creighton send their love.”

“I didn’t see anyone here with you,” I asked, trying to be coy.

“Who did you expect to see?” Mother asked with raised eyebrows.

“Well I was under the impression that you and Mr. Pindar were coming to terms.”

“Terms? We see each other socially if that’s what you mean.”

“Mother, he’s a fine man and would be a wonderful companion in your coming years.”

“And this would have nothing to do with a certain Patty Pindar, would it?”

“Patty? No of course not. She is just a friend, as far as I know. Besides, I haven’t heard from her in years. She went off to college and by now I’m sure that she’s married and ready to start her own family.”

My mother smiled that smile and kept driving, while I thought about Wendy and how I missed her. When we got to the house, she parked her new Model T in front and looked at me with that same smile.

“Paul O’Dell, I’m an old lady, you’d better haul all your own stuff into the house. You remember where your room is, I suppose.”

“Yes, Mother,” I shook my head and picked up the three bags, slinging the first over my shoulder and taking the other two in each hand. The trek up the stairs to the porch reminded me of where I’d been shot, but only slightly.

My mother opened the front door and stood back.

“PAUL!”

I looked up to see Patty Pindar running towards me from the sitting room. When she was within striking range, she leapt into my arms and kissed me in a most unfriend-like manner. It took some seconds before I was able to drop my bags, regain my balance and my senses, before I relented and wrapped her in my arms and returned the kiss.

Her lips released mine and she pressed back from me.

“Paul O’Dell, I have been waiting for you. I was late getting to the train station and you ran out so fast I couldn’t get to you through the crowd.”

I looked at her and knew. I realized what I had been fighting for. Not my country. Not my unit. Not my other soldiers. All the while I was in France and Germany, I was fighting for her. I took Patty Pindar in my arms and kissed her again.

“Paul?”

Did I hear something?

“Paul!”

There it was again.

“Paul Michael Rory O’Dell!”

“Yes mother.”

“Stop being a public spectacle. Bring your things into the house and get them to your room. We have a lot of catching up to do.”

Patty released me and I picked up my bags and walked briskly into and through the house and up the stairs to my old room. Not much had changed from my eighteen year old self’s abode. I dropped the two bags in my hands and tossed the knapsack on the bed, before turning to head back downstairs.

“We’re in here, Paul!”

I walked in the direction of my mother’s voice and found her sitting at the kitchen table with Patty and Charles Pindar. Four cups of coffee were on the table and the seat between mother and Patty was empty.

“I thought you said that Michelle and Juanita would be here.”

“They will be, but not for a while. We need to have a chat first. Please sit down, son.”

I sat in the empty chair and Patty immediately slid her chair over next to me. She reach over and took my hand. I looked around the table waiting for someone to speak.

“If this is going to be a chat, shouldn’t someone ... um ... chat?” I asked after what seemed like many minutes.

Patty’s father broke the silence. “Hello Paul. Welcome home.”

“Hello Mr. Pindar, thank you.”

“I guess I need to start this off ... um ... you see ... your mother ... that is...”

“Have you asked her to marry you yet?” I asked trying to speed up what I knew was the whole point of this chat.

“Marry!?”

“Yes. You know, married. Vows. Wedded bliss.”

“No ... that is yes ... well hell’s bells!”

“Charles! Language!” My mother chided the poor man.

“Paul, yes, I’ve asked ... several times actually. But your mother keeps saying no! First it was after the children had grown, then it was, not until Paul is home. So you are home and this morning I asked her, and she finally said yes. I know that we’re a bit old to be getting married, but I’ve come to love Opal Anne and I guess that I would like your blessing.”

“My blessing? My mother is certainly mature enough to get along without my leave. But if it’s my blessing you need, it’s my blessing you have.”

Charles Pindar looked like the weight of the world was raised off his shoulders. He stood and pulled my mother to her feet and hugged her and gave her a kiss that left no doubt as to where Patty had gained her kissing ability.

“Charles!” My mother almost swooned before pretending to gain her self-respect.

“Oh hell’s bells, Opal Anne, we’ve been...”

Mother stopped Charles’ next revelation with a kiss, before looking at me, smiling, and taking her seat. Charles took his seat and, after moving his seat closer to hers, held mother’s hand on top of the table.

“Now about you two children. When is your wedding going to be?”

Had I not just taken a sip of coffee, I would not have made a spectacle of myself by spitting it across the table. I looked at Patty, who smiled. And then at the other two adults, who smiled. Then I set down the coffee cup, and slowly wiped my face with a napkin.

“Wedding?” I said, my voice cracking and sounding much weaker than it had been in the army.

“Yes, dear. When are you and Patty getting married?”

My furrowed brow should have given away the fact that this was news to me. But I had the sudden urge to ask a series of quick almost angry questions.

“Why would we get married? Patty have you written to me in the past four years? I know I wrote several letters; did you ever think of responding to them? I thought you were away at college, was that not true?”

“Paul, stop and take a breath,” Patty said patting the hand I had resting on the table. “We should get married because we have loved each other since we were eleven. I wrote you many, many letters, but I just found out that most of them were purloined. I received three letters from you and answered them all on the same day.”

“Three!? I wrote many more than three!”

“I know that now dear. I have been to college, I graduated with honors in four years, and am ready to be the most important woman in your life.”

It must look strange to women when men get a lost expression on their faces while their eyelids blink at a furious speed. I know both the women at the table gave me a strange look.

“Paul, my dear,” my mother said softly. “I have a confession to make. Please do not be angry at me or her. Patty just found this out. She gave me her weekly letters to send to you with my own and I kept most of them. When you wrote I did the same with yours. You wrote to me about the war and how, at times, you weren’t sure you were going to make it and I didn’t want you distracted with the worries and fears of a girl at home.

“Your letters worried me to distraction, and I didn’t want Patty worried like that as well. I’m sorry. Patty wrote all the time, telling you how much she loved you and missed you and begging for you to write back. I felt that you needed to keep your head about you. It goes back to something your father told me, seeing his men getting letters from home during the war.”