When the Clouds Roll By Read Online Free PDF

before a soldier in the first row recognized his cross and insignia and stopped him to request a prayer. Samuel obliged—what else could he do? It was his job, after all. Lord, give me strength.
    Another soldier, another prayer, and finally he reached the seat where Lieutenant Gilbert Ballard reclined. As Dr. Russ had predicted, they’d formed a bond of sorts while aboard the U.S.S. Comfort , and when Samuel learned the lieutenant was shipping home to the Army and Navy Hospital in Hot Springs, he decided maybe he’d like to go there, too. The thought of returning home to Fort Wayne held no appeal, nor did the idea of serving at one of the larger military hospitals, where ministering to hundreds of wartime wounded day after day would only extend his torment.
    No, according to Gilbert, the much smaller facility at Hot Springs treated mainly older veterans for chronic conditions such as arthritis, rheumatism, gout, and various skin diseases and would receive few returning wounded from the Great War. To Samuel it sounded like the ideal situation—a chance, with God’s help, to rest and heal and find his way again. At his first opportunity he’d put in a request for new orders, and his commanding officer had quickly agreed.
    No doubt all it took was one look at Samuel’s recent service record. He should probably thank God they had not stamped it UNFIT FOR DUTY.
    Gilbert looked up with tired eyes. “You look worse than me, Padre. At least you’ve got two legs to stand on.”
    The train gave a sudden jerk, and Samuel had to grab for a handhold to stay upright. He forced a chuckle. “Not so sure my two legs are doing me much good at the moment.” He lowered himself into the empty seat next to Gilbert. “How are you holding up, Gil? Much pain?”
    “You mean besides this headache that won’t quit?” Gilbert grimaced and rubbed his left thigh, now just a stump. “They said I could have phantom leg pain for a long time to come. Just this morning I tried to scratch an itch on the bottom of my foot, but my foot wasn’t there.”
    Samuel couldn’t even imagine. “Can I get you anything? Water? Something to eat?”
    “I’m okay.” Gilbert swiveled his head toward the window. He clenched and unclenched his right fist in rhythm with the clack of the train wheels.
    They were in the mountains now, somewhere in Tennessee. “We should be in Little Rock by tomorrow, then on to Hot Springs. You’ll be glad to be home, finally get some rest.”
    The lieutenant’s lips flattened. “I wish they’d killed and buried me in France.”
    “You don’t mean that.”
    “You bet I mean that.”
    The conversation was one they’d had a hundred times already, and Samuel struggled to come up with new arguments against Gil’s defeatist attitude. His thoughts drifted to the tattered photograph of Gilbert’s fiancée, the beautiful Annemarie. What Samuel wouldn’t give to be going home to his sweetheart, to drown in her welcoming kisses, to fill his senses with the scent of her perfume and the feel of her glossy hair sliding through his fingers.
    Helen, Helen . . . when I needed you most . . . why?
    “You ever gonna tell me about her?”
    Samuel pulled himself from his reverie. “I’m sorry?”
    “The woman who broke your heart. Come on, Sam, tell me your sob story. Get my mind off my own.”
    Samuel gave a nervous laugh. “What makes you think I have a story to tell?”
    “Because of the way you look at Annemarie’s picture every time I pull it out. It’s in your eyes, Padre. There for all the world to see.” Gil nudged him with his elbow. “So who was she?”
    A harsh breath raked through Samuel’s lungs. He leaned forward and clasped his hands between his knees. “Her name was Helen. Helen Oakes. As pretty as your Annemarie but with bright golden hair and a sprinkle of freckles across her nose.”
    “So what happened?”
    Helen’s last letter was still tucked away in Samuel’s kit bag. He should have burned it months