Bombers Moon

Chuck woke up in the armchair near dawn, took a weary look at the dark sky, changed his position, and fell asleep again.When the sun hit his face, he opened his eyes again, feeling pain all over his body, especially his temples, the farewell gift left by the spirits.Chuck took a few deep breaths, convincing himself to get up.He kicked the empty wine glass on the floor, and it rolled under the bed, and Chuck rubbed the bridge of his nose, and decided to pretend he didn't see it, and went into the bathroom.

He didn't find Louis in the dining room, only the Duchess was there, the radio was on and the announcer was describing the bloody fighting in Dieppe late last night when the Royal Navy and the Canadian Expeditionary Force attempted to land and occupy the French port city , was unsuccessful, and the number of casualties and prisoners of war has not yet been determined, but those Canadians probably will not return.Then Chuck realized that he had never seen a radio before, and maybe Louie had it taken away, keeping the news of the war out of these well-polished glass windows.Chuck listened for a while in the hallway, then slipped away when the announcer started talking about the damaged landing craft.

There was no one in the Turkish Hall either. Chuck pondered the pattern of the carpet for a while, then retreated into the greenhouse, walked around the cocoa tree, opened the side door, and walked into the garden.It was a sunny day, but the air still smelled of rain and mud. The narrow dirt road between the flower beds hadn't recovered from the torrential rain two days ago. Some places were dry, others were still muddy.Even without training in tracking, Louie was quickly spotted—a lone shoe print, plus the indentation of a walking stick, as obvious as a signpost in the wet mud.

He eventually finds Louie by the swing.The swing was hung from the thick branch of an oak tree, and from the iron rings deeply embedded in the branch, it seemed that several generations of people had played here.The oak trees occupied the entire small slope, and the shaded areas were almost barren of grass, as if they had been intentionally burned.The oak tree is always like this, it looks quiet and honest, but it actually grabs all the water and sunshine like a robber, and Chuck can't remember who told him about it, maybe it was Dad.

Louis sat on the swing, clutching the rough hemp rope, looking into the distance.Chuck followed his gaze to look at the continuous grassland. The rising sun dyed the undispelled morning mist into a clear golden color, and the sparse forest loomed among them, like unfinished paper-cutting.A lone bird moves through the mist, not in a hurry, probably slowly testing the angle of the wind.

"When my great-grandfather built this swing, I could see the lake from here." Louis said, without greetings or foreshadowing, "It's a small lake, 'as big as a pocket', but it's very deep, and the shore of the lake slopes like a cliff. A coachman drowned in it, and it was a stormy night when the whole wagon slid down. Then the creek diverted and the lake disappeared. But every now and then someone claims to have seen the ghost of the coachman, overturned with the non-existent wagon. In a lake that doesn't exist."

Chuck didn't know what he wanted to express, so he put his hands in his pockets and nodded: "Okay."

"Maybe some unlucky fishermen will see ghost planes on the strait in the future, crashing into the sea again and again."

"I never thought about it that way," Chuck replied honestly, the word strait reminding him, "I just heard on the radio—"

"Dieppe, I know, I received the telegram early this morning. Beacon Hill is still counting, and the situation is not very good. We lost six planes and two are missing." He was silent for a while, shaking his head, "It should have been I will lead the team."

But they all understand that this will not make any real difference. The squad leader usually commands three fighters, at most six fighters.Chuck cleared his throat and tried awkwardly to offer a little reassurance: "It wasn't your fault—"

"Charles." Louie called his name, very softly, but Chuck stopped immediately, "Can we talk about something else?"

But besides war, what else can we talk about?Chuck wanted to ask this, but didn't say it.The great canopy of the oak tree swayed and rustled overhead.Louis took Chuck's hand and held his wrist: "Also, I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"Unpleasant last night. Mother, as I told you, was not a particularly kind person."

"That's because you haven't met my dad. Maybe the two of them will get along very well. Although my dad doesn't know how to sugar-coat curse words, they are essentially the same."

"For the first time I think you make sense, Sergeant."

"Now that you're teasing me again, proving that you're back to normal and no longer a melancholy poet, welcome back, sir."

"I never—"

Before he could finish the sentence, Chuck bent down and kissed him, his palm lightly pressing on the back of his head, and Louie grabbed his collar tightly.It took a long time for the two to part panting, looking around subconsciously, worried that the gardener or forest guard would see them, the morning mist cleared, and there was no movement in the garden or lawn except for the gently swaying elms and weeds.

"I've never been 'blue'." Louie went on to defend.

"Oh yes, you're the funniest person I've ever met, a real comedian."

"You've even mastered sarcasm."

"I had a great mentor."

Louie sighed, "Would you like to find a quiet place to have a cup of tea?"

"really want."

-

For the rest of August, they didn't talk about the war again, carefully avoiding the bloody, barbed subject.Louis' injury gradually improved, and he could finally throw away his crutches. First, he used the furniture or Chuck's arm to circle around the room slowly, and then gradually expanded his range of activities, taking walks in the garden and going up and down the stairs.

Since the Duchess came back, Louis had given up the thickly carpeted Turkey Room, or rather the entire first floor, and took Chuck into the attic.That meant climbing four flights of stairs, one of the narrow wooden stairs reserved for maintenance workers, sandwiched between a stone wall and a wooden wall, and smelled of rats.But it's totally worth it, the little space tucked away under the sloping roof is private and cozy, flooded with sunlight pouring in from the skylight.No one has been here for a long time, and the dust is like a thin layer of snow, enough to leave footprints.Cobwebs were entangled in the high piles of wooden boxes, some of which were big enough to hold a piano, others as small as jewelry boxes and opened with nothing.Also in the corner were dull ebony boxes with brass corners and Albert's name scrawled on a label, which contained sled parts, geo-hammers and oxygen tanks.Louis was a little disappointed. Considering that it belonged to Uncle Albert, there must be at least one mummy in these boxes.

When it rained, they would light an old-fashioned lantern that had been dug out of a wooden box, and make love slowly on the floor, the sound of thunder and rain drowning out the gasps and occasional whispers.Chuck lay on the stolen blanket and looked at Louie's profile and bare shoulders in the dim light. Louie caught his gaze, half smiled, and asked if he had anything to say.

I hope we don't have to go back, Chuck wants to tell him, I want to stay in this musty attic with you forever.

"Nothing," he replied, as the rain clattered and beat on the skylight.

Louie reaches out and touches the scar at the corner of Chuck's eye, which he's been fond of lately, probably as a substitute for a kiss.The second lieutenant sat up, shivered, and put on his clothes again.Chuck put on his pants hastily, walked to the slanted window, watched the heavy rain outside, the gray treetops swayed in the wind, and the old wooden structure of the roof creaked from time to time.

"Charles."

Chuck turned and looked at Louie.

"We're going back to Beacon Hill next week, maybe Wednesday, Thursday morning at the latest, and I'll send Captain Millston a telegram."

"Oh." Chuck said a dull monosyllable that didn't make sense, and the damp chill in the attic suddenly became palpable, gnawing at his bare skin. "Okay."

They both know what it means, the holidays are over, and so are you and me.Louie used a rusted metal dinner plate as a mirror, buttoned everything, tied his tie, and threw his coat over his arm. "See you tonight? I'll open the window."

"see you tonight."

They slept together every night, sometimes had sex, and sometimes just lay together.The night before leaving the mansion passed like this. The two listened to each other's breathing in the dark, knowing that the other was not asleep, but they didn't say a word.

"Can I ask why?" Chuck broke the silence as Xi Weichen's light came through the gap in the curtains.

Louis moved a bit and leaned on his shoulder: "What?"

"Why don't you go to the headquarters."

"I'm a soldier, Charles. Soldiers don't leave the front line." Louis got up, and the cold air took advantage of the opportunity to get into the blanket. "Get up, we are going to go."

It's Thursday.In September, the chill was already evident, exuding an indifferent mineral smell.Louis put on his uniform, just like when they first met, from trouser legs to hat brim, there was no smile in the corners of his mouth or eyes.Chuck started the truck and, with his arm out the window, watched the strange officer say goodbye to his mother.Louis got into the car with his luggage and nodded at Chuck.

Military trucks rolled over the gravel road, and the mansion gradually shrank in the rearview mirror until it was completely hidden by the yellow woods.

They arrived at Beacon Hill Air Force Base just in time for lunch, and the hangars and tarmac were empty.Louis opened the door and was stopped by Chuck.

"That's it? I thought, I mean, we haven't said goodbye yet."

"We serve on the same base, why say goodbye?"

"I thought--"

"Don't think anything, Sergeant." Louie held the car door and looked at him, "You haven't forgotten the conditions we discussed, have you?"

"I remember it well, sir."

Louis stared at him for a while, then removed the brim of his hat and closed the car door.

Note 1:

The Battle of Dieppe during the night of August 1942-8, 18

Raid), a total of more than 6000 infantry participated, most of them were Canadian soldiers, and the casualty rate was as high as 60%.The Royal Navy and Air Force provided support. The Navy lost 1 destroyer, 33 landing craft, and the Air Force lost 106 aircraft.