Christmas Day- Regensburg
Many of the women were sending emails to their kids while the men were enjoying coffee and reminiscing about spending some Holidays away from home during their years in the military, most having been caught by Korea and some by Vietnam. Vito had served in the marines, still attested to by the large tattoo on his upper arm proudly sporting Semper Fi, and loved telling war stories about his time on a mountain in Korea, exploits having grown in excitement and valor with the many retellings, but impressive none the less. He had served his time and was damned proud of it. Others would tell their stories as well, sometimes with a wistful or telltale expression revealing a loss of innocence or loss of guys in their outfit or loss of a life at home that had turned out to be far different than when they had left. Among this age group of men, a comaraderie develops based on these shared war experiences, whatever the war, or the front, or the arm of service, they share a common denominator, understood simply with a nod, or the mention of a certain base or weapon, or ship, or plane, and memories of a Christmas spent on a mountaintop in Korea, or on a base in Cuba, or on a ship somewhere in some far away ocean, are vivid and poignant. War talk has probably changed very little through the centuries, exploits, heroism, victories, losses, only the names of places changing, and for this group of warriors, places like Pusan, Tegu, K-16, and Hanoi and Da Nang were familiar.
For one old soldier in their midst, the places of his war held especially painful memories. Father Frank would accompany the Catholics, and any others who wanted to join, to Regensburg Cathedral for Mass and a very large contingent chose to attend with him despite the awful weather, which was probably their first day of undeniable snittzle, a rotten combination of snow and sleet and drizzle. Delores continued with her babushka, mink coat, and Gucci bag, looking like a million dollars in spite of herself, clinging to Father Frank's arm, she alone in the group aware of the heaviness in his heart that day, camouflaged by his smiling demeanor and cheerful words. She would stay close beside him.
Regensburg Cathedral is an example of pure German Gothic architecture and considered the main work of this style in all of Bavaria. Delores and Father Frank entered the nave arm in arm, he guiding her to a pew about half way down, stepping aside for her to enter before taking the seat next to the isle, bowing his head in prayer. Erik followed and was going to crawl over them to a seat next to Delores, but instead the other two scooted over leaving a space for Erik next to Father Frank. Several times Father Frank turned and whispered something to Delores, and at one point Delores laid her hand on his, patting it gently in a show of affection Erik had not been privy to before, and he wasn't sure if he was intended to see it or not. Several times Father Frank wiped his eyes, first with the back of his hand and then taking his handkerchief out of his pocket, since the tears were continuing to come. Erik was confused, a little embarrassed, having no idea if he should look away or make some attempt to comfort the old man, realizing that he had become a part of a little drama he neither understood nor would have ever anticipated. But Delores appeared quite comfortable dealing with it, whispering and patting as if she felt whatever pain the old man was feeling, reliving his memories and dealing with the guilt he carried, a guilt heavier than any bomb dropped from his plane, a self imposed guilt that had taken up residence in his psyche and permeated his very being, a guilt needing assuaging, needing to be dealt with, exorcised, before it was too late.
Their planes had been equipped with the best technology of the day, but the bomb squad knew it didn't always work as intended, occasionally dropping extra bombs, bombs going astray, or someone firing a second late, and the pilots never knew what exactly they hit, never saw the damage, never saw the carnage. But the young pilot, Frank Schuman, did learn that the targets had been hit, the industrial supply center was destroyed. Regensburg received heavy bombing starting in August, 1943 as allied air strikes targeted the Messerschmitt production plants where half of all German fighter planes were assembled, with the goal of crippling the industry in Germany, but catastrophic losses to allied planes were suffered resulting in the need for continued bombing missions over the city. Although the medieval city center of Regensburg was spared, one very significant edifice was not. The most important cultural loss was the Romanesque church of Obermünster which was completely destroyed and was never rebuilt. Only its belfry stands today. Although there was no proof, Father Frank was pretty sure that the bombs that struck the church came from his plane. They had received flak again that day. They couldn't hear the bombs exploding from 22,000 feet but they could definitely hear when they were hit by flak. They had been hit pretty hard, causing the Liberator to bounce, tearing the fuselage. The tear allowed a beam of light to make a reflection in the shape of a perfect cross, and the little cross seemed to float and dance all around the cockpit and he thought it was a sign from God, he just didn't know if it meant he was going to live or die. It was to be his last bomb mission and somehow it didn't seem fair to die now. He was nineteen years old. He would live to commit a far greater sin. The Priesthood wasn't even on his radar.
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