Winds of Change

It was easy to see that Dominik was uneasy.
I wasn't sure how to calm him down. He knew what time period we were in. He knew what was going on with his people no the Eastern front. He wanted a part of it.
Marin was busy tending to French, Canadian and British soldiers. One young man, Arthur, she had been paying special attention to, helping him with a nasty shell wound to his leg. I watched how she carefully sponged the wound, wrapped it up and talked so sweetly to the soldier. He seemed rather touched as well.
"I think my sister has found her calling."
I jumped, a bit startled, and glanced over at Dominik. He had his arms crossed and was chewing his lower lip thoughtfully.
"I think you're right," I agreed. "I'm surprised. I never thought of Marin being a nurse. She gets so fearful. It's amazing how well she keeps herself together while taking care of wounds."
Now Marin and Arthur were laughing. She'd finished helping him and was sitting down, listening to the young blond Brit spin a wild tale.
"I sure hope she hasn't decided she likes him," I muttered.
"She's twelve, Mr. Trekker. I doubt that's the case. She's very easily enthralled with tales. Most Czechs and Russians are."
I eyed the young Russian. "Dominik, I think it's time we take care of the matter of who is going to raise Marin. I think we've both been contemplating it long enough. It's time we discuss it."
Dominik nodded. "My thoughts exactly. Why don't we go somewhere private? There's enough women nurses here that I'm sure Marin will be alright."
I waved to Marin to get her attention, then motioned that Dominik and I were leaving. She nodded, having moved on to someone else to help a nurse bandage a head wound.
My heart slowed and felt heavy as a rock. This was the conversation I'd been dreading for some time. But I knew it was necessary. Dear God, whatever we  decide, let it be the best for Marin.
It was hard for me to pray that, when I knew what I wanted more than anything. I wanted Marin to stay with me as my own daughter. I wanted to raise her and watch her grow up and fuss over her when she fell in love with some lucky guy and married him. But I also wanted what was best for her, and as of late, my lifestyle hadn't exactly been child-friendly.
Let us make the right decision. Help me to do what is right, God. Amen.

~oOo~

"I think I should make it clear that I'm not to thrilled with leaving my sister with you," Dominik began.

We were seated on a grassy hill, overlooking the bay as we watched the American ships come in. The first American troops to enter the war had arrived.

"I thought that might be the case." I nodded.

"Your life has been chaotic and all over the place. Even before Mykola tried to kill you, I was watching and following you everywhere. You two seemed to be in danger wherever you went."

"Well, we had to give the blog readers a story, so we spiced things up a bit."

Dominik stared at me. "What?"

I waved it off. "Never mind. Long story."

"My point is, Mr. Trekker-"

"Trevor," I interrupted. "You can call me Trevor, Dominik."

He somewhat relaxed and smiled a bit. "My point is, Trevor, that I don't want to see my sister getting hurt. Or worse." He sighed and scratched his head. "But my life isn't the best, either. I know that Kursk in 1943 is not an ideal place for my little sister to live. So many peopled died on the Eastern front- women, children and men. I don't want her to live there, either. But I want to go back and help my regiment push the Nazis out of our territory, which I can't do if Marin's along."

"Uhm, about your regiment, Dominik," I began uneasily, "I need to talk to you about Communism and some things you should probably know are going to happen."

His look hardened. "You're a Westerner. Of course you don't like Communism."

"That's not all, Dominik. I'm worried that after the war you'll be shipped off to a Gulag."

"What? I'm a loyal solder! Why would I be put in a Gulag?"

"Because Stalin put most of the soldiers who marched onto Berlin into the Gulag. He was afraid they'd been too Westernized. If I'm correct, Dominik, you're going to be one of the people who makes it to Berlin." I looked away. "I checked your file in the future. You survive Kursk and go onto the Berlin march. But Dominik, you disappear after that. No one knows what happened to you. I think you were sent to the Gulag."

Dominik stared at me for a good long while. "This isn't to get me to leave Marin with you, is it?" he growled.

"No, no!" I waved my hands. "I'm telling you this so you know. I understand you feel the need to fight for your country, but you need to realize that your Communists are going to be the death of you. Understand? Even now, while the Russians march onto Galicia for their last offensive-- which by the way is going to end in a total disaster-- the Bolsheviks have begun their bloody war against the Tsar. They killed hundreds of people, Dominik. People who didn't want any part of the Red army or the White army. They just wanted to stop fighting. Is that right?"

Dominik crossed his arms and looked away. I hoped I was getting the point across to him, but I couldn't tell.

"Trevor, I fight for my country. Not for Communism. I never was much of a Communist, anyway. But I want to finish the battle and push the Nazis out of my homeland. Isn't that what you would do?"

"Actually, I probably would have been thrown into prison by now for getting distracted and freaking out."

Dominik grinned a bit, then began to laugh. "I could see you deserting and running the other way, screaming with that hilarious Scottish accent of yours."
I joined in his laughter. "Oh, so that's what you think of my accent? I could say the same for your Russian one!"

Without warning, Marin came running up the hill, panting and yelling. "Trevor! Dominik!"

We leapt to our feet, our previous somewhat friendly demeanor gone. "What is it?" Dominik demanded.

"It's Mykola!" Marin screeched. "It's Mykola, and he's kidnapped the lady, Trevor!"

"What lady?" My throat constricted and I tried to steady myself. Dear God, no. 

"It's Ilene!"