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

My Arranged Marriage

At those parties, in which I was supposed to connect with marriageable men, other mothers constantly bothered me, when and to whom I would get married. I had the feeling the older they were, the more pressing the issue was for them. Mind you, it was my life after all. Somehow, my heart always felt heavy, when the talk came to my marriage. Something was not right with it. Then, on the other hand my heart felt light, when I thought about standing on my own two feet. It especially felt light, when I thought about starting my own business. Having my own business, being my own master felt really good.

At one of those parties, I met a handsome young man, whom I had a lively conversation with. Unfortunately, he belonged to the least ranking families who had gotten invited. They were --- farmers. However, he was the only one with whom I did not talk about kids, family, mansions, power, money, status, duty and so forth. We talked about farming and horses, things I liked, and we talked about flying and aircraft, things he liked. I should say though that he talked about that later topic, because I had no bloody clue at the time. After a few dates (always with chaperon of course) we both felt a strong attraction to each other. My heart felt light being with him. He became my Alejandro. We fell in love, he was my boyfriend, to say it in modern terms. No sex, not even kissing each other was allowed. Every meeting happened under the eyes of a chaperon. My unfortunate Alejandro did have polio when he was a kid and one of his legs did not work right anymore. This handsome young man with the fucked up leg could ride horses, but he could never be an excellent rider. The farm had thus been given to his older brother, which it might have gotten to anyways and he was sent to the army instead. The first born of farmers, got the farm, the second got sent to the army, the third became a priest and hopefully, you did not be the fourth born son, because he could only either become a farm aid, or some type of servant or a criminal of sorts. Such was the tradition. In that regards, daughters were better off, no matter if you were the oldest or the youngest, you could still get the best marriage. Now as my lovely friend was the second born, he got sent to the army, despite his leg. Maybe, he was lucky, because he did not have a younger brother with whom he could swap. Him becoming a priest would have been a real waste of gorgeous material. Now if you wanted to be someone in the Mexican army back then, you had to be excellent in riding or with the sword, better with both. Mind you, if one had a fucked up leg, one could neither be excellent with either. If you wanted to become an officer, then most important was to have connections. If you wanted to climb up the career ladder as an officer, you had to be an excellent rider and swordsman and even more importantly, your family had to be part of the inner circle. Alejandro's father was modestly wealthy and he had connections, so he pulled the right strings to get Alejandro into the military academy for officers. With his fucked up leg however, there were pretty much only two options for him, first was to become an artillery officer or second a pilot in the newly founded Mexican air force. He managed to get into the air force and man he loved flying. It was his life. He had found his passion.

My Alejandro was inspired and excited about flying. So on our fourth date, he brought me to the airfield, where the Vought V-99s biplanes of the Mexican Air Force were parked. He whispered to me, if I wanted to sit in the aircraft, so that the chaperon did not hear it. I did not have so much of a desire to sit in an aircraft at that time, but on the other hand, it was a rather rare opportunity and thus I thought why not take it? After all, my potential future husband had suggested it and a woman should show compassion in the works of her husband. Now some chaperons were easy going, while other's were stringent. Today one of my aunts was the chaperon and she could as well have become a prison guard. Alejandro helped me into the bi-plane and the chaperon was already crying, that it was not a modest action for a woman to enter an aircraft. While scolding her life away, the chaperon approached the aircraft, but by the time she got close, I was already seated. Angrily, my aunt, reprimanded us and demanded, that I come out of the aircraft immediately, but I lied, that my dress had gotten entangled in one of the levers. Alejandro, offered to help, but the chaperon immediately stopped him in his tracks. A man was not allowed to muck around with the dress of a woman. God forbid, he could see her legs. Now, she herself climbed onto the wings in order to help me out again. Well, she had no bloody clue about planes and that one may only step on certain areas of the wing. Right there, the canvas covering the wing ripped, her foot crashed through and she herself got stuck in between the ribs of the wing with one leg. A number of crewmen approached the plane, cursed, scolded and then helped her out of her predicament. It was most embarrassing for her. God forbid, one might have gotten a glimpse of her old, wrinkled, varicosious legs. After the successful rescue mission, she was busy tending to her leg and arranging her dress. For some reason, my heart felt light thinking about flying with this aircraft. Well, those few seconds were our chance and I ordered Alejandro to get into the plane. He started the motor, and in response, the chaperon got on her feet, waved with her hands and yelled. The engine however was so loud, that we did not hear her. A bit hesitant, she wanted to come closer to the aircraft, but a crewman already grabbed her hand, stopped her in her hostile mission and made her aware, that she was, under no circumstances, to approach an aircraft with rotating propellers. Alejandro took the aircraft of the ground and flew me around a bit. That day, I fell in love with flying. I enjoyed the wind messing with my hair, the bird's eye view of the world and the powerful forces acting on my body. Flying made my heart feel so light. It is the closest thing to being in heaven with the angels that I know.