And You Will Find Love - Page 256/287

London, May 1, 1945

At close to six o'clock that evening, Barbara waited outside the assignment office at ATA headquarters when a clerk handed her a soiled, crumpled letter.

"This came for you this afternoon. Looks like it's been through a war."

It probably has, Barbara thought, seeing Stephen's APO return address.

Sitting alone on a bench in a busy hallway, she eagerly opened the envelope and found two pages inside. One was in her beloved's handwriting, dated February 2, 1945, and she read it first:

Dearest Barbara,

I'm all right and hope you are, too. Your work is as dangerous as mine, I know.

I can't tell you where I've been or am going,

but you probably hear about it on the radio.

That's where I am.

I'm writing this more to share something with you.

It is the enclosed letter I received from the nursing home where my wife had been staying.

Had been staying? The past tense puzzled Barbara, but she read on.

From its date, you can see I've known its contents for several months.

And it may be more months before you receive it.

We need to talk again, now. I can't write longer.

Our company is moving out in a few minutes.

I love you,

Stephen

Barbara folded his letter, returned it to its envelope, then opened the enclosed paper. The letterhead read, SAUK HILLS NURSING HOME, WINTHROP, WISCONSIN, and the letter was dated January 11, 1945:

Dear Captain Collier,

We were unable to reach you by long- distance telephone because of communication difficulties involving your unit's movements.

It is with deep regret that I write to inform you that your wife Margaret passed away this morning after a second massive stroke. It apparently happened during her sleep.

We will go ahead with funeral plans according to those we agreed upon in the event of her death, as we discussed when she was first brought to us for care. She will be given a Catholic funeral and burial in Winthrop. We hope you know we did everything we could for her, and I believe she was happy here. You made that possible, as much as we did.

I want to add that the staff and I have always admired your devotion to Barbara. Your frequent visits and constant concern regarding her well-being endeared us all to you and to her. It could not have been easy for you over the past six years and more.

I am sure your wife's death is a sad loss to you, but it is my belief that she is, finally, at rest.

We know you are overseas in the war, and hope you are safe. When you receive this letter, please communicate with us. Meanwhile, God bless you.