Chapter 21

While time passed by, I wrote several letters to my parents. I told them of the family, the Van Den Muirs, Boris, Benthe, and Lana, that had rescued me. I was determined to find them, especially Lana. I mentioned Boris is a farmer with a working windmill. I didn’t know when I’d be coming home and assured my family I was healthy and safe. I also read my English to Dutch translation book, trying to pronounce different sentences and phrases.

I was discharged as a patient at the Field Hospital the second week of June and did security and administrative duties for the next four weeks. I said goodbye to Orton, saw Captain Henderson, thanking him again for the repairs to my leg. He took a look at it, saying with the stitches out, it should be easier to walk. He reminded me to do stretches and exercise my leg. One last stop was to find Padre Wilson. I thanked him again for everything and would see him in thirty days. My thirty days leave started three months from the day Lana and her family saved my life.

I made my way to the transport motor pool and tried to hitch a ride to Vaassen. Nothing was going near there, but I could get a ride to Apeldoorn. I struggled to climb into the box of the three-ton cargo truck. I made an impromptu bed and relaxed for the bumpy, noisy ride.

Once I arrived in Apeldoorn, I went to the allied motor pool. There were no hehicles heading to where I wanted to go. I asked for the road heading to Vaassen. I began to make my way the old fashion way, hitchhiking.

Local residences didn’t know what I was doing with my thumb out as I walked. Seeing me in my Canadian uniform and walking with a limp soon had me offered a ride.

“Canadese soldaat, bedankt voor het bevrijden van mijn vaderland. Thank you, Canada.”

“Canadian soldier, thank you for liberating my homeland.”

“You’re welcome. Graag gedaan,” I said, quickly looking up the words to translate. “Vaassen?” I asked, pointing through the dirty, cracked windshield.

The old, rickety running truck, had seen better days. The man reached behind my seat, offering me a long stick of bread. I tore off a piece and thanked him. He handed me a large flask, prompting me to have a drink.

I took a good sip and made a face and shaking my head to the harsh, bitter taste. The old fella almost drove off the road, laughing so hard at my expression.

“Dat zal haar op je borst zetten. Hij laat ook de motor van mijn truck lopen.”

“That’ll put hair on your chest. It is also running my truck’s engine,” he said, patting my chest and laughing, patting the truck’s dashboard.

I saw a sign, Vassen, straight ahead. Then I realized I had to find Lana’s house. “Van Den Muir?” I said.

“Van Den Muir? Ahh, Boris?”

“Yes, Boris Van Den Muir! You take me there?” I quickly looked in the dictionary.

“You take me to Boris? “Breng je me naar Boris?”

“Ja.” I knew that meant, yes.

I remembered their farm was on the right side of the road with a large tree trunk and large boulder as a landmark.

“Van Den Muir,” he pointed, stopping at the laneway. I stepped from the truck and offered my hand through the open window. We shook hands then he gave me the rest of the loaf of bread and the flask of wine.

He drove off, and I began the walk up the laneway. I had a slight limp to my leg, with the slight rise to the lane that will reveal the farmhouse.

“Oh, no!” I remarked, seeing the windmill burnt and destroyed. What was once my room on the top floor was now charred lumber on the ground. I hurried my steps, seeing the farmhouse still intact, then saw the barn, or what was left of it.

“Lana!” I yelled. “Lana?”

I looked around the courtyard, then the farmhouse door opened. She didn’t see me at first.

“Lana!”

She looked up, dropping a basket of laundry. “Richard! Richard! Momma, Poppa, Richard is hier! Hij is bij mij teruggekomen, bij ons!”

“Richard is here! He has come back to me, to us!”

I dropped my rucksack and ran the best I could to her as she ran to me. “Richard! Richard!” She yelled.

Lana jumped into my arms, wrapping her legs, best she could in her long skirt, around me. “Richard, Richard, Richard!” She repeated. “Ik hou van jou!”

“I love you!”

“Ik hou van jou!” I awkwardly replied. I had recited those words many times to myself. She looked at me with my reply, then smothered me with kiss after kiss.

I let her down, and she immediately unfastened several buttons on her blouse, guiding my hand inside onto her bare breast. I gave it a good feel, returning her kisses, probing her mouth with my tongue. We continued to hug and kiss as Benthe and Boris hurried to us.

I broke my embrace only to be smothered by Benthe, who wasn’t shy at all about showing her appreciation for my return. I could feel her breasts pressing to me, and I accepted her lover’s kisses.

Boris gave me the strongest hug he could manage, shaking my hand, and slapping my shoulder. “Je bent bij ons teruggekeerd, mijn zoon.”