The Germans seemed to have an unlimited supply of bombs to drop on Great Britain. And it was hard to believe that Europe was celebrating its sixth wartime Christmas. The war had become a way of life by then. But Dan sounded cheerful in his letter, and suggested to her that when the war finally ended, she come to Paris and celebrate with him, which seemed like a bold thing to say. She wouldn’t have admitted it to him, but she liked the idea. She was sure her parents would have been horrified at the thought of her meeting a man in Paris, but she was an adult, and she was in the air forces. She was sure they would be even more horrified if they met him. But he was a good man, and she felt comfortable with him, more than she ever had with her parents’ friends, or the men they considered suitable. There was nothing about her life in the air forces that they would approve of, and she knew that when the war was over and she went back to New York, that would have to change. Maybe Dan Stanley would be part of that change. She was surprised to realize that she liked that idea very much.

Lizzie had a Christmas surprise too. Alfred, the wounded boy who had been a patient of hers when she first arrived and had declared undying love for her, and even proposed marriage, was back. He was suffering from tinnitus, a self-inflicted wound in his right foot, and battle fatigue. He was in their psychiatric ward, which was increasingly crowded these days. Alex had volunteered to work Christmas Day there, and told Lizzie that night that Alfred was telling all the nursing staff that he and Lieutenant Hatton were engaged.

“You might want to put a damper on that,” Alex said discreetly, particularly if Ed heard about it.

“He wrote to me a few times, and I sent him cheery little notes,” Lizzie said, thinking about it. “He actually did ask me to marry him when he was here last time, and of course I said no.” Lizzie looked mildly embarrassed by his claims. “How is he?”

Alex looked serious when she answered. “To be honest, Lizzie, he’s in terrible shape. He was on Omaha Beach. I think his mind is gone. Something snapped. I suspect the army knows it too. He has delusions in the daytime, like being engaged to you, and nightmares all night. He claims he was shot in the foot by a German soldier, but his commanding officer believes he shot himself. You’ve never heard anyone scream the way he does at night. They’re putting him on the next hospital ship home, and until then, we’re babysitting him here in the psych ward until one shows up. I think something in him is irreparably broken.” They had both seen others like him, and it was always sad. “I don’t know how they’re going to put boys like him back together when they get back to the States. The war has been hard on everyone, and we’ll all have nightmares about things we’ll never forget. But I think some of the men will never recover from them. The trauma they went through was just too great for their minds. I think Alfred is one of those. He’s just a kid, but his mind is shot. He says he met Hitler in Berlin.”