Chapter 26 Chapter Sixteen (Part 2)

"Well, isn't that the case? The Pope spent his early years in Munich, and he once loved the Germans, and he still loves them desperately, and if the poor bodies of those murdered were before his eyes as evidence, He'll say it must have been done by the Russians, not by those lovely Germans, who are not as cultured and civilized as they!" "Ralph, you are not a Jesuit, but you are here. It is because you have taken a personal oath of loyalty to the Pope. You have the blood of your Irish and Norman ancestors, but I beg Be wise, you! Since last September we have been waiting for the ax to fall, praying that the leader would stay and protect us from the Germans. There was a string of contradictions in the character of Adolf Hitler, he There are two things that he thinks can be his enemy, but he wants to do everything possible to protect: the British Empire and the Roman Catholic Church. However, when things come to his head, he has to go all out to crush the British Empire .Do you think he won't break us if we push him to that extent? He will surely break us if we utter a word of condemnation, as happened in Poland. Dear friend, do you think What good will our denunciation ever gain? We have no army, no soldiers. Retaliation is imminent, and the Pope will be sent to Berlin, which is what he fears. You do not remember the Avignon a few centuries ago The puppet pope? Do you want our pope to be a puppet in Berlin?"

① One of the Catholic religious orders.After the rise of the European Reformation in the 16th century, the main group in the Catholic Church stubbornly opposed the Reformation. Founded in 1534 by the Spanish nobleman Luo Yao. In 1540, approved by the Pope.The rules of the association emphasize absolute loyalty to the pope at the meeting and unconditional execution of all orders of the pope. -- Annotation ② There is an ax on the sign of fascism, so it goes. -- Annotation ③The name of a city in France. -- Annotation "I'm sorry, Vittorio, but I can't look at it from that angle. I think we have to condemn Hitler and speak out about his atrocities from the rooftops! If he shoots us, we die in martyrdom, That would have a greater impact."

"You are so stupid, Ralph! He will not shoot us at all. He understands the effects of martyrdom are in our favor. But the pope will be sent to Paris, and we will be quietly sent to Poland .Poland, Ralph, Poland! Would you rather be in Poland instead of functioning as you are doing now?" Archbishop Ralph sat down, clasped his hands between his knees, and gazed obstinately out of the window at the vaults facing their room, rising golden in the setting sun.He's 49, leaner than ever, and manages most things with sophistication and tact. "Ralph, that's what we are. We're human, but that's only secondary. We're priests first."

"It's not in the same order as yours when I got back from Australia, Vittorio." "Back then I meant something different, you know that. You got tough. Now I mean, we can't think like people. We have to think like priests because that's what we One of the most important aspects of life. No matter what we think or do as human beings, our allegiance is to the church, not to secular regimes! Our allegiance can only be to the Pope! Ral Husband, you have taken an oath of obedience. Would you like to break that oath again? The Pope is infallible in all matters that affect the interests of the Church of God."

"He was wrong! His judgment was biased. All his energies were directed against communism. He saw Germany as the greatest enemy of communism, the greatest enemy of preventing communism, the means to prevent communism The only sure factor of infiltration. He wanted Hitler to be firmly in the saddle of Germany, just as he was quite satisfied to see Mussolini rule Italy." "Believe me, Ralph, there are some things you don't know for sure. He's the Pope, and he's infallible! If you deny that, you deny your fidelity." The door was opened cautiously but hastily. "My lord, His Excellency General Catherine has arrived."

The two senior priests stood up, smiles appeared on their faces, and the completely different expressions just now disappeared. "It's very pleasant, my lord, please take a seat. Would you like some tea?" The conversation took place in German, as many senior members of the Vatican speak German.The pope likes to speak, and he likes to listen to German. "Thank you, sir, for some tea. Nowhere in Rome can such fine English tea be talked about." Cardinal Vittorio smiled frankly. "It's a habit I acquired when I was papal legate in Australia, and although I'm Italian by nature, I haven't abandoned it."

"What about you, my lord?" "I am an Irishman, Your Excellency, and the Irishman has also got into the habit of singing tea." General Albert Kaiser always felt that dealing with the Archbishop de Bricassart was one man's dealings with another man; It's refreshing.He was a straightforward man, without being elusive or cunning. "My lord, I've always been amazed by your authentic German accent," he admired. "I have a good ear for speech, Your Excellency, which is to say, like all talents—nothing to praise." "What can we do for your excellency?" asked the cardinal kindly.

"I suppose by now you have heard the news of the leader's fate?" "Yes, sir, I hear you." "So, in a way, you already know why I've come. I've come to reassure you that all is well, and perhaps you can pass this on to those who are summering at Ganderfurt? I'm very busy at the moment. It's impossible for me to visit Castle Gundelfort myself." "This message will overlap. Are you busy?" "Naturally, you must realize that for us Germans this is now an enemy country." "Here, Your Excellency? This is not Italian land, and there is no enemy here except the villains."

"Forgive me. Of course I mean Italy, not the Vatican. But, in matters concerning Italy, I must follow the orders of my Fuehrer. Italy will be occupied, and my forces, hitherto allied, will be Policemen." Sitting comfortably in the chair, Archbishop Ralph, who seemed to have never had any ideological struggles in life, watched the visitor closely.Does he know what his Führer is doing in Poland?Could he not know? Cardinal Vittorio made an anxious expression on his face. "My dear general, surely Rome itself will not be occupied? Ah, no! With the history of Rome and her priceless art treasures, she will not be occupied, will she? If you bring troops into the city of Rome, the On the seven hills there will be conflict and there will be destruction. I beg you, don't do that!"

General Catherine looked uncomfortable. "I hope things don't come to that, Your Excellency. However, I have sworn to do what I am told, and I must do what the Führer wishes." "Your Excellency, will you do your best for us? Please do your best! I was in Athens some years ago." Archbishop Ralph said quickly, leaning forward; his charming eyes Wide open, with locks of white hair falling on his forehead; he was well aware of the influence he had over the general and exercised it without compunction. "Have you ever been to Athens, sir?" "Yes, I have been," said the general dryly.

"Well, I'm sure you know the story. How would it be for modern people in Berlin to destroy the buildings of the ancient city? Your Excellency, Rome stands as it once did, a city that people care about, watch and love Monument to the year 2000. I beg you! Do not endanger Rome." The general stared at him in surprise and admiration.His uniform was well suited to him, but not so much to Archbishop Ralph as the majestic mauve cassock.He also has a soldier's appearance, a soldier's lean and graceful figure and an angelic face, Michael the Archangel must have looked like this; he is not a gentle teenager in the Renaissance era, but a mature and perfect man. The man who once loved Satan, fought against him, exiled Adam and Eve, and killed the giant serpent, stands on the right side of the upper side.Does he know what he looks like?He is indeed a man worth remembering. "I will do my best, my lord, I promise you. In a way, I admit that I am the one who decides. As you know, I am a civilized man. But you are asking too much, If I declare Rome an open city, that is to say, I cannot bomb its bridges or seize its buildings for fortresses, which will ultimately be to the detriment of the Germans. If I treat Rome with mercy, then I can get What promise is she that she will not repay me with betrayal?" Cardinal Vittorio pursed his lips and made a kissing sound to his cat - now a Siamese cat - and looked at Cardinal Ralph with a gentle smile. "Rome never repays kindness with treachery, my lord, and I am sure that when you do have time to visit Castle Ganderfolk, you will be assured of the same. Say, Kensi, my darling! Ah! What a lovely girl you are!" He put his hands on his bright red lap and stroked it. "An extraordinary animal, sir." "A nobleman, Your Excellency, the archbishop's and my surnames are ancient and historic, but ours is worth nothing compared to her family status. Do you like her name? It's Chinese A name for silk flowers. Appropriate, isn't it?" The tea was served and distributed, and they were silent until the tea-serving maid left the room. "You will not regret declaring Rome open, sir," said Ralph, with a tender smile, to his new Italian master.He turned to the cardinal, and the fascination with which the venerable man had no need had faded away, as if in disguise. "Your Excellency, are you going to be this mother, or am I here to steal beauty?" "Mother?" General Catherine asked blankly. Cardinal di Contini-Verches laughed. "It's a little joke among us bachelors. Whoever pours the tea is called mother. An English way of saying it, my lord." That night Archbishop Ralph was very tired, sleepless and nervous.He seems to have done little to help end the war, doing little to preserve monuments, and has grown to loathe the Vatican's inertia.Despite his reserved nature, the snail-like caution of those who occupied the highest church positions sometimes irritated her intolerably.Except for the lowly nuns and priests who are servants.For weeks he had been talking only to an ordinary man who had no ambitions, political, religious, or military.These days, even prayer doesn't seem to go so well with him, and God seems to be light-years away, as if retiring to allow humans to destroy the world he created for them.What he needed, he felt, was a dose of Meggie and Fee's stimulant, or a stimulant from someone who had no interest in the fate of the Vatican or Rome. His Excellency descended the secret steps into the basilica opposite Peter, and walked aimlessly.These days, as soon as night falls, its doors are locked and the tranquility that envelops Rome is more disturbing than the procession of Germans in gray uniforms walking up and down the streets.A faint, dim light illuminated the empty eastern rotunda; the footsteps of the empty chamber echoed on the stone floor as he walked, and disappeared into the silence when he paused to bow his knees before the high altar. , Then, the sound of empty footsteps echoed again.At this moment, he heard a gasp between the footsteps.He raised the flashlight in his hand sharply, shining the beam of light flatly on the place where the sound came from, his curiosity outweighed his fear.It was his place, and he could protect it without fear. ① One of the twelve disciples of Jesus, originally a fisherman.See "The Bible Book of Peter". -- Annotation The most beautiful of all sculptures, he thought, was Michelangelo's statue of the Virgin Mary weeping over the dead Jesus;Beneath those motionless, beautiful fingers there was a face, not of marble but of flesh, completely lost in the vacant shadows like that of a dead man. ① Buonarroti Michelangelo (1475-1564), a famous Italian sculptor, painter, architect and poet, and Leonardo Da Vinci, Raphael and Titian are also known as the "Four Masters of the Renaissance" ". -- Annotation "Hello." The Archbishop said with a smile. ①The original text is Italian: Ciao. -- Annotation There was no answer, but he saw that the dress was a uniform of the lowest rank of the German infantry; an ordinary man!Never mind, he's a German. "Hello," he asked, still smiling. ①The original text is German: Wiegehts--Annotation When the man moved, sweat flickered on the broad, intellectual-like forehead in the haze. "Are you sick?" he asked afterward.Since the man didn't move anymore, he wondered if the guy was sick. ① The original text is in German: Dubistkrank? -- Annotation Finally, a voice came: "No. ①" ① The original text is German: Nein. -- Annotation Archbishop Ralph put his torch on the ground, stepped forward, put his hand under the soldier's chin, held it up, and looked into the dark eyes, which were blacker than the surrounding darkness. "What's the matter?" he laughed, asking in German. "Hello!" he continued in German. "You don't understand, that's the main thing in my life - to ask people: what's the matter. Let me tell you, that question has gotten me into a lot of trouble in life." "I've come to pray," said the lad, in a voice too deep for his age, with a thick Bavarian accent. ①A state in Germany. -- Annotation "What's wrong, you're locked inside?" "Yes, but that's not what matters." The Archbishop raised his flashlight. "Hey, you can't stay here all night, I don't have the door key. Come with me," he said slowly, in a soft voice, as he walked back towards the secret staircase leading to the Pope's Palace . "As a matter of fact, I came to pray too. Thanks to your High Command, today is a rather unpleasant day. Here, from here... We have to hope that the Pope's staff don't think I've been arrested, Understand that I'm doing escort work, not you escorting me." After saying this, they walked in silence for ten minutes or so, down passages, into an open courtyard and garden, and up steps in a hall; the young German seemed in no hurry to Leaving his protector's side, sticking close to him.At length the archbishop opened a door, admitted his stray into a small bare, poorly furnished sitting room, turned on a lamp, and shut the door. They stood in the room and stared at each other, and everyone could see who was who.The German soldiers saw a tall man with a handsome face and a pair of blue, penetrating eyes; Archbishop Ralph saw a young man dressed in clothes that would make the whole of Europe feel horrible and awe-inspiring.It was a child, certainly no older than 16.He is of medium height, and the boy's body is very thin. His weight will definitely be a big man in the future.Great strength, long arms.There was something Italian in his face.Dark, well-bred, and attractive; large, dark brown eyes with long black lashes, and a stunningly handsome head with black, wavy hair.Although his status is ordinary, there is something extraordinary about him in every aspect.The archbishop was very interested, regardless of the fact that he was eager to talk to a common man. "Sit down," he said to the boy, and went to a cupboard and found a bottle of Marsala.He poured some wine into two glasses, gave the boy a glass, and took his own glass and walked to a chair where he could look at that charming face comfortably. "Are they hard enough to send their boys to fight?" he asked, crossing his legs. ①A white wine produced in Sicily, France. -- Annotation "I don't know," said the boy. "I was in an orphanage, so, anyway, I would have been drafted very early." "What's your name, boy?" "Rainer Mollin Hasson," said the boy with great pride. "A splendid name," said the priest solemnly. "Really? I made it up myself. In the orphanage they called me Rainer Schmidt, but after I joined the army I changed it to whatever I always wanted to be called." "Are you an orphan?" "The nuns call me a bastard." Archbishop Ralph tried not to laugh; the boy was so self-respecting and calm that he was no longer afraid now. , what was he afraid of just now?Neither fear of being discovered, nor fear of being locked in the square church. "Reina, why were you so scared just now?" The boy sipped his wine carefully, looking up with cheerful affection. "Well, the wine is sweet." He eased himself a little. "I wanted to see St. Peter's because the nuns used to tell me about it and showed us pictures. So I was happy when they sent us to Rome. We got here this morning .As soon as I can leave camp, I'll be here." He frowned.However, it is different from what I imagined.I have always been, in our God's own church, not what I imagined.I would have thought I would feel closer to our God in His own church.But it's just big and cold.I can't feel him. " Ralph smiled at the Archbishop. "I see what you mean. But, you know, St. Peter's isn't actually a church. Not the way most churches are. St. Peter's is the Holy See, I remember, and it took me a long time to figure it out. got used to." "I want to pray for two things," said the kid.He nodded, indicating that he had heard what the other person had to say, but it wasn't what he wanted to hear. "Pray about something that scares you?" "Yes, I think you'll be helped by staying in St. Peter's." "Raina, what is it that frightens you?" "They'll judge me Jewish, and my regiment will eventually be sent to Russia." "I see. No wonder you're scared. Is there really a possibility that they'll decide you're a Jew?" "Well, please look at me!" said the child flatly. "When they said my characteristics, they said they'd have to look it up. I don't know if they're going to look it up, but I think the nuns know more about me than they tell me." "If they had, they would not let it go," said the Archbishop reassuringly. "They'll understand why they're being asked about it." "Do you really think so? Oh, I hope that's all right!" "Does the thought of being Jewish bother you so much?" "It doesn't matter what my bloodline is," Rainer said. "I was born in Germany and that's the only thing that matters?" "But they just don't see it that way, do they?" "yes." "So, what about Russia? Surely, there's no need to worry about Russia now. You're in Rome now, in the opposite direction." "I heard from our commander this morning that sooner or later we will be sent to Russia. Things will not go well there." "You're a boy," said Archbishop Ralph suddenly, "you should go to school." "No matter what, it's not allowed now." The boy smiled. "I'm 16, so I'm willing to work." He sighed. "I've always wanted to go to school. Learning is important." Archbishop Ralph laughed, then stood up and filled the glass again. "Don't keep paying attention to me, Rainer. I don't mean anything. Meditate, one thing after another. That's how I pass the time. I'm not a very good host, am I?" "You're fine," said the kid. "Then," said the archbishop, sitting down again. "Define yourself, Rainer Mollin Hasson." There was an incomprehensible pride on that face. "I am a German, a Catholic. I want to make Germany a country where there is no persecution based on race or creed. As long as I live, I will give my life for this goal." "I will pray for you - you will live and you will succeed." "You?" the boy asked shyly. "Do you really want to pray for me personally in your name?" "Of course. In fact; you have taught me something. In my position the only weapon at my disposal is—prayer. I have no other duties." "Who are you?" Rainer asked, blinking dazedly from the alcohol. "I am Archbishop Ralph de Brixarte." "Oh! I thought you were an ordinary priest!" "I'm just an ordinary priest. Nothing else." "I'll make a deal with you!" said the kid, his eyes sparkling. "Pray for me, Father, if I live long enough to achieve my goal, I will come back to Rome and show you what your prayers have done." There was a gentle smile in those blue eyes. "Well, it's settled. When you come, I'll tell you what's on my mind as I pray." He stood up. "Stay here a while, little statesman. I'll get you something to eat." They kept talking of the dawn light on the domes and bell towers, and the flapping of pigeons' wings outside the windows.At this moment the archbishop led his guest through the public rooms of the palace, and seeing his delighted awe, let him out into the cool air.Though Ralph didn't know it, the well-known boy did go to Russia, with unusually pleasant recollections, and affirmed that in Rome, in his own church above, a man was praying daily in his name . Right now, the Ninth Division is ready to go to New Guinea.Everything is in place except the finishing touches.What is disturbing is that this extremely elite division in Australian military history can only hope to build meritorious service elsewhere, hoping to drive the Japanese back to Indonesia.The battle of Guadalca completely shattered the Japanese hopes of winning Australia.Like the Germans, however, they succumbed sadly and reluctantly.Although their supply lines were overstretched and the troops collapsed for lack of supplies and reinforcements, they made the Americans and Australians pay for every inch of land they regained.In the retreat, the Japanese abandoned Benner, Gona, and Sewimon and slipped quietly to the north coast, slipping back to the north coast and Formosa Gaffin. On September 5, 1943, the Ninth Division landed on the sea due east of Liyi.The weather is very hot, the temperature has reached 100%, although there are still two full months before the rainy season; but it rains every afternoon.The malaria threat meant that everyone was on Aldipine, the little yellow pill that made everyone feel sick all the time as if they really had malaria.The constant humidity meant that the boots and socks were always wet; the feet had become spongy, and blood was showing between the toes, bloody.The places where poisonous insects and mosquitoes have been bitten begin to inflame and fester. ① medicine for treatment. -- Annotation In Port Moresby, they had seen the miserable condition of the New Guinea islanders, and if they could not withstand the climate here, they would not suffer from yaws, beriberi, malaria, pneumonia, various chronic skin diseases, liver disease, etc. Lives where bloat and melancholia spread, there is not much hope for the white man.There were survivors from Kokoda in Port Moresby. Not many died at the guns of the Japanese, but quite a few died of various inflammations and delirium due to fever in New Guinea.Ten times more people died of pneumonia than were killed by the Japanese, from wearing only tropical clothing and freezing to the bone at 9,000 feet.The mud is viscous and cold. After dark, the phosphorus-containing fungi in the mysterious forest gleamed with cold will-o'-the-wisps, and climbed up the steep cliff along a twisted tree root, which meant that no one could survive for a second. Look up and look up.This is simply a live target for snipers.Anywhere was very different from North Africa; yet the Ninth Division had nothing to complain about, preferring to fight the rough trails of Kokoda rather than fight two battles at El Alamein. Lee is a seaside town surrounded by dense forests and grasslands, in the hinterland well below 11,000 feet above sea level.As a basin, it has more health benefits than Kokoda.There are only a few European-style houses here, a gas station and an aboriginal shack.The Japanese still adopted the same strategy as before; however, they were few in number, depleted of supplies, exhausted and diseased like the Australians with whom they had fought, and having passed through North Africa with heavy artillery and extremely high levels of mechanization. It is strange to see not a single mortar or field gun, but Owen's and rifles with bayonets attached, after our troops had fought.Jens and Patsy were willing to fight shoulder to shoulder, marching close together, protecting each other.After the fight against the Afrika Korps, it was a shame, although it was an undeniable fact.The short yellow people seem to be all dressed in grass-green clothes, with gums, and they don't have the mighty look of soldiers at all. The Ninth Division saw no more Japanese after it landed on two stars in Liyi.Spring has arrived on the island of New Guinea.On this day, the wind was sunny and the temperature dropped to 20 degrees.The sun was shining, the misty sky suddenly turned blue, and the watershed outside the city was colorful.Discipline has slackened and everyone seems to want to take advantage of the day to play cricket and go for walks and tease the natives and make them laugh and show their bloody, toothless gums from chewing betel nuts .Jens and Patsy were walking in the tall grass outside town, which reminded them of Drogheda: the grass, too, was like Drogheda's meadow, washed after the rainy season, tawny, very dark. . "Passy, ​​it's not too far to go back now," Jens said. "We've got the Japanese and the Germans out. Go home, Patsy, back home to Drogheda! I can't wait." "Yeah," Patsy said. They walked shoulder to shoulder, much closer than men are allowed; sometimes, they would like to touch each other, they didn't realize it, they just felt like a person touching their own bodies, the middle part This tickling feeling seems to make them affirm their own existence.The sun is no longer like a blurred ball in the hammam, how beautiful it is to shine on the face with warm sunshine!From time to time they turned their faces toward the sun, and with open nostrils they breathed in the scent of the scorching sun behind the Drogheda-like grass.They dreamed of being back on Drogheda, walking towards a rue tree in the middle of the bewildering noon, and lying there completely relaxed, reading and taking a nap.Rolling on the grass, they felt the friendly and beautiful earth through their skins, and felt that somewhere beneath the surface a great heart beat, as a sleeping baby feels its mother's heart. ①The steam room. -- Annotation "Jans! Look! A real Drogheda parakeet!" said Patsy in surprise. Parakeets may also be native to Lee, but this utterly unexpected and evocative aspect of today's mood suddenly triggered a burst of ecstasy in Passy.He laughed, feeling the grass tickle his bare legs.He ran after the parrot, snatched the worn, limp hat from its head, and reached out as if he really believed he could catch the fading bird.Jens smiled and stood looking at him. He was about twenty yards away from Patsy when a machine gun sent the weeds flying about him; Pray for the same.From the waist to the knee is a piece of bright red blood, gurgling blood. "Persy, Patsy!" Jens exclaimed; every cell in him felt shot, felt himself collapsing, dying. He strode over, running faster and harder, and then his soldier's vigilance took effect.Just as the machine gun fired again, he threw himself forward on the grass. "Persy, Patsy, are you alright?" he yelled stupidly when he saw the blood. However, it was unbelievable. "Okay." Came a faint answer. Inch by inch through the fragrant grass, Jens scrambled forward, hearing his own gasp as he crawled forward. As he crawled up to his brother, he rested his head on the bare shoulder and wept. "Don't cry," Patsy asked. "I'm not dead yet." "Seriously?" Jens asked, pulling down his blood-soaked shorts, shaking as he looked at the bleeding flesh. "Anyway, I don't seem to feel like I'm going to die." People were all around them, the cricketers still in leggings and gloves, some of them going back for stretchers, while others silenced the machine gun far in the clearing.The operation was carried out with the utmost brutality, because everyone liked Harp very much.If anything happened to him, Jens would never be the same again. It was a fine day; the parakeet had flown far away, and the other birds were chirping and spinning.They chirp without fear, only falling silent when the battle is on. "Persy's lucky," the medic said to Jens after a while. "He must have had about a dozen bullets in his body, but most of them hit the thigh. Two or three hit high that seemed to be embedded in the pelvis or muscles. As far as I can tell, he has a bullet in his stomach, bladder There's one in there too. The only trouble is..." "Uh, what?" Jens pressed impatiently; still trembling, blue around his mouth. "Of course, at this stage it's hard to say for sure, and I'm not a genius surgeon like some of the guys in Moresby. They'll tell you more. His urethra was injured, though. A lot of the little nerves in the perineum. I'm pretty sure he'll be healed, except maybe those nerves. Sadly, the nerves won't heal very well." He cleared his throat . "What I'm trying to say is that he probably won't have much feeling in his genital area anymore." Jens lowered his head, looking at the ground through the cloud of tears. "At least he's alive," he said. He got permission to fly to Moresby with his brother and stay until Passy was out of danger.It is very unlikely that there will be any accidents in those wounds.The bullets scattered in the lower abdomen without penetrating.However, the Ninth Division medic was right, the nerves in the lower pelvis were badly injured.No one can guarantee how well it will recover in the future. "It's nothing too serious," Passy said from the stretcher on which he was going to be flown back to Sydney. "I never cared much about being married anyway. Now, you've got to fend for yourself, Jens, you hear? I don't want to leave you." "Passy, ​​I'll take care of myself. Christ!" Jens grinned and squeezed his brother's hand tightly. "Can't think of going off to fight the rest of the battle without my best mate. Give my regards to Mrs. Smith, Meggie, Mum, and the brothers, huh? You're kind of lucky to be back home on Drogheda." Fay and Mrs. Smith flew to Sydney to meet the American plane carrying Percy from Townsville.Fee stayed only a few days, but Mrs. Smith took up residence at a Randwick hotel next to the Prince of Wales Military Hospital.Passy lived there for three months.His mission in battle was over.Mrs. Smith shed many tears, but was thankful for that too.In a way, he could no longer live a full life, but he could do everything else: ride, walk, run.After all, the Clearys don't seem to be great at things like pairings.As he was being discharged, Meggie arrived from the base in a Rolls.The two women settled him among blankets and magazines in the backseat, praying for another boon: Jens would come home too.