Sergeant Walter Givens, Walt to his buddies, was a Marine with a capital M. At six foot one and one hundred and seventy pounds he was lean and fit after two years of heavy fighting. He was at Guadalcanal, then the invasion of Attu, and finally Iwo Jima. He fought ferociously and instinctively but on "Iwo" his instincts finally failed him. Walt stepped on a landmine, charging a hill, that blew off his leg at the calf and filled his lower limbs with shrapnel. A medic quickly dragged him to safety and he was carried down the hill.
Walt remembers the explosion, pain and finally waking up in hospital. The rest is an agonizing blur of morphine and unconsciousness. They pulled the bits of steel out of him and sewed him up. He had no leg below the knee and only one testicle. He was in Melbourne, Australia, but they may as well have left him on that hill. Walt lay on his side, staring at nothing. "Half a man" echoed through his head. He lay there in despair instead of being glad to be alive.
Four nurses served his ward. All the men were stable and recovering. Many, like him, were missing parts. They just needed painkillers and sometimes some help. Lilibeth was happy to help. A refugee herself, she had left the Philippines for nursing school here at the outset of the war and now had no home to go back to. She was a petite golden skinned young woman with long flowing black hair, she wore the tight white single piece uniform with the red stripes on the seams and obligatory white stockings. It was her schooling dress and was perhaps a little too short, but during war it seemed frivolous to buy another.
Lilibeth always had a smile for the brave warriors of the Pacific. That is how she saw them. They fought to recapture her home, to free them from the Japanese. Lilibeth flirted with all the men and lifted their spirits if she could. "Sometimes a down man just needs to be reminded he is a man", her mother had told her that years ago when her father lost his job. Mama, tired of his moping, took Papi into their room on Saturday and on Monday he was looking for a new job.
Lilibeth went to Walter's bedside to give him a shave. He had been in the field a long time and his face was scraggly. She was all smiles and approached him happily with a basin, straight razor and towel.
"Sergeant" she began, "time for a shave."
"Please leave me alone." He said coldly, still facing the wall.
"I can't, Sergeant Givens." She said softer but still sweetly. "It's my job."
She put the tray down on the nightstand and lightly sat at the edge of his bed. He felt her weight and could smell her. She was flowery and musky. She waited patiently. Finally he turned a little to look at her.
"What?" he asked, aggravated.
Lilibeth gave him a small smile and pleading eyes. She could wrap her Papi around her little finger with those deep chocolate eyes. "Please, Sergeant." She asked him softly. "Let me shave you?"
Walter couldn't believe this. He just wanted to die and this girl wanted to make him look nice. Slowly he turned and sat up gingerly. His stump still throbbed and he had stitches all over.
He looked over at her with irritation in his eyes and annoyance in his voice. "You're not going to leave are you?"
She held her little smile but made her eyes innocent. "Eventually, my shift will change, Sergeant." She said in answer.
"Fine" was all he said and put his head back against the bed rail.
Lilibeth smiled wide with bright white teeth and put the towel under his chin and quickly but gently lathered his bearded face. She held the razor expertly; she had shaved other things on a man as a nurse. She worked quietly, realizing her patient obviously didn't wish to talk. But she smiled if he looked at her. "All men were men" she thought and remembered her mother.
Walter let his dinner sit on the side table. He didn't want food. He lay there again staring at the wall. Lilibeth quietly came and took it. She paused and looked at him. She knew what was wrong, she had read the chart, a leg gone, but also part of his manhood. She began to reach out but thought better of it and left him to his anguish.
The next morning the head nurse was giving Walter a hard time when Lilibeth showed up. She had a wheelchair and wanted him to eat in the cafeteria so his bed linens could be changed. The head nurse was also military and was about to pull rank on the sergeant.
"Why can't you people just let me DIE?!" Walter shouted.
"Because you aren't dead, Marine!" she threw back.
"Lieutenant," the Pinay girl interceded and got the head nurse a few steps away, "let me, I have had luck with him." She asked.
The Head nurse threw up her hands, "He's all yours, girl! Good luck with him!" and she walked back to the ward desk.
Lilibeth tossed her simple purse and sweater under Walter's bed table and sat on the edge of his bed again. She just smiled at him for a few moments until he looked over to acknowledge her.
"You must be hungry, Sergeant." She said in her sweetest voice of concern. "Let me take you to breakfast. Please. "Her mother taught her that too. Men will "dig in" if ordered by a woman, but if pleaded with, if asked, they could be putty in your hands.
Lilibeth gave a crooked smile, "I haven't had breakfast either. Please, you'd be giving me an excuse to go eat." She looked coyly at him.
Walter gave in. "Bring that stupid chair over here."
After eating, Lilibeth pushed him slowly around the grounds, taking the long way back. It was late summer in Australia and it was warm with a light ocean breeze that filled the senses with memories of the beach in Manilla. Walter stayed silent through her breakfast conversation but he did eat. Now she spoke to him as they toured the grounds.
"I thought I would hate Melbourne and be so home sick when I came here but Manila is much like this and I love the ocean air." She pushed him towards their wing. "Is your hometown near the water, Sergeant?" she asked.
"Walter," he said.
"I'm sorry?" she said, but in truth she had heard him.
"Call me Walter or Walt. I'm tired of being Sergeant." He said with some disgust.
