Maria, Pull the Trigger and Kill (a World War II adventure)

Juan

Well, my goal with the US Army was not necessarily to provide good service to the Gringos and get the Medal of Honor, it was simply to do what I enjoy, to fly and earn my own money. First I informed my parents about my plans to go to the US (not brave enough to mention that I wanted to become a pilot of the US Army there yet). They both stood beside themselves when I broke the news to them. My dad was speechless, he had lost all his facial features and after some 30 seconds, my mother entered into a tirade of scolding and even went to the extent to slap me, after realizing, that I was serious. After an hour of battling, we were all too exhausted to continue the dispute. At the end of my wits, I went to my room, collapsed on the bed and cried. An hour later, I wanted to ride out, to get away from it all for some time, however, my room was locked. Banging at the door, drove my mother to the spot and through the closed door, she yelled at me, that she would keep me locked up, until I came back to my senses.

In the evening, my dad came and brought me dinner. I was mad and I did not talk to him, but I realized, that he was crying. My dad crying, was a rare sight, my plans must have brought him to his wits end as well. As I refused to talk to him, he put the tray down on my bed, turned around so to walk out but then turned in the doorframe to face me again: "I know, your plans of breeding horses, have gotten thwarted. I'm sorry about it, but I really cannot afford to start breeding race horses right now. I need to save our farm." I said nothing, but pouted in response. What my dad had said, was a true statement, which I already knew. After some 30 seconds, he continued: "I want you to be happy. If going to the US makes you happy, I give you some money so to get you started." Then he closed the door, but reopened it a second later again and added: "It will break your mothers and my heart though."

My mom slapping me, was much easier to bear, than that statement. I cried, I did not wanted to break my parent's heart. They were my beloved parents after all. Next morning, my mom opened the door to my room and brought me breakfast. With an angry undertone, she greeted me: "So what's the decision?"

I barked back: "Fine, I will stay and be a farm aid."

"Don't be so dramatic. We will find you a decent man again, where you will be the grand dame of the house."

I blurted out: "I don't want to be the grand dame of the house! I wanna make something out of myself."

"Yes, if you wanna make something out of yourself, we have to find you a wealthy man."

"That's not what I want."

Quite aggravated she replied me: "What is it then, princess? What is it then, what you want?"

"Flying."

"Flying onto your nose? And I thought your dad talked some sense into you yesterday evening?"

"Sense? He even offered me money so that I could go to the US, but he said it would break your hearts and that's not what I can do. That's why I'm staying."

"Estupido mocoso", she yelled with new fury at me. She put on a fire red face and stomped out of my room. A rampaging steed could not have been any louder.

I should not have said that, because now my poor dad was in for it. When she found him, she made a scene. She was so mad, she did not even care about the servants overhearing everything. She was so infuriated, that everyone in the house could hear her, even I in my locked room. Apparently, they did not discuss my dad's offer from yesterday night together.

Later that day, my dad let me out and I went back to working my usual routine at the farm. I did not have much motivation though. I had no goal in front of me and so I did my work without passion and commitment.

On the oncoming weekends, my parents, foremost my mom, dragged me to parties where unmarried young people had the opportunity to connect. By now, I had gained a tiny bit of life experience and I had learned to listen in between the lines of what people said. When I had a conversation with a prospect, and I figured, he wanted me to take care of the house and the kids, then I was very quick in mentally discarding them. In the rare occasions, when I dropped a word about my real plans and desires it either produced laughter or big question marks on the faces of my conversation partners. Very soon, I stopped mentioning anything the likes. It was just useless. Women had to be in the house, period. Then, I met a widower, 40 years old. His wife had died in the childbed, after having given birth to their third child. First, I thought, he is too old for me, but he shared my passion for horses and so, at least I could have an exciting conversation for a change.