“Good. That will be great for my videos,” she said, glad to get off the subject about her life and how pitiful it was.
Dennis’s brow furrowed. “Videos? Like family movies?”
A cold trickle moved down her arms. Would he be excited about her assignment? For some reason she doubted it. She pressed her lips up, forcing a smile.
“Didn’t I tell you?” She attempted to keep her voice light. “It’s for my job. I’m shooting news features, and they’re going to show them on the morning program where I work. We have three million viewers who’re going to follow us through Europe. Isn’t that great?”
“Did you talk to the guys about it?” Dennis’s voice was curt.
“What do you mean?” She opened her fists, sliding her hands down her jeans.
“I mean this is the first I’ve heard about it. If you’re planning to use my grandpa’s stories, he ought to give you his permission.”
“Of course I’m going to get their permission. I may have changed, but I’m not totally incompetent.”
Dennis’s face wore a scowl. “I don’t like the idea of using their pain for your advantage. And what about the viewers? If they’re not entertained, they just flip to the next channel. These stories are special.”
“The viewers will be touched. Maybe some of them will be inspired to talk to their own grandpas or uncles about the war.”
He nodded but didn’t answer.
“It’s not about ratings. It’s a chance for me to spend time with my grandpa. The job comes second.” She nodded, as if trying to convince herself.
Dennis glanced at her. “So if they said no, you’d just drop the whole thing, right?”
“Yes, of course.” Ava said the words, but they didn’t sound convincing, even to her. She hoped it didn’t come to that.
Chapter Eleven
The Ardennes area of Belgium was more beautiful than Ava had imagined. Thick groves of trees lined the roadway. As they drove, the groves opened up into wide meadow plateaus. It was hard to believe such a horrific battle, the Battle of the Bulge, had happened in such an idyllic place.
“How far are we from Bastogne?” Grand-Paul asked in a groggy voice.
Ava had first heard the name Bastogne before she even understood what
war
meant. It was the epicenter of the Americans’ fight against the Germans. Thousands of men had died fighting for this position.
Dennis glanced at the clock. “We passed Bastogne a few minutes back. I thought I’d stop at the hill where you first saw battle. Should be there in two minutes.”
They passed another small village. It reminded her of something she’d see in a Disney movie. Farms and small houses with gardens. A gas station selling petrol seemed like the only modern structure. There was no Walmart. Not even a 7-Eleven. Outside the village they passed a sign that read C
HENOGNE
, 4
KM
. She didn’t dare ask if they were going to visit Chenogne—not after her grandfather’s reaction. She’d ask Dennis about it later.
“That’s it, up ahead.” Grand-Paul pointed to a distant hill. “See over there, off the road a ways.”
“No. I don’t think that’s it. We weren’t that close to a village,” Grandpa Jack countered. Ava heard the rustling of paper behind her and guessed he was opening one of his maps to look.
“See,” Grandpa Jack said to Paul. Then he called from the backseat, “It’s a little bit farther up the way.”
They drove a mile more, and then Grandpa Jack patted Dennis’s shoulder as if signaling him to slow. Both older men sat forward in their seats, studying the terrain. Ava shook her head. She couldn’t remember a shopping list of more than four items. How could they remember one hillside after sixty-five years?
“That’s it.” Grand-Paul pointed to a tree-lined field with a rising hill.
“Yes,” Grandpa Jack agreed. “Do you think it’ll be okay to walk over there? It might be someone’s property.”
“Of course it’s okay,” Grand-Paul spouted. “We liberated that hill. Who’s going to stop us?”
Dennis pulled to the side of the road. He and Ava helped their grandfathers out of the car. Grandpa Jack removed his Eleventh Armored Division cap and held it to his chest. Grand-Paul took two steps forward and then paused as he stared at the hill to the left of the roadway. To everyone else passing along this road, it was just another hill, but not to the men who had traveled thousands of miles to see it.
Ava approached the two older men. “Before we head over there, there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
“Is it about the videos?” Grandpa Jack scowled. Dennis stood next to him, frowning too.
“Yes.” She turned to Grand-Paul, hoping for an ally. “They’re for my job. My boss wants me to do short news features about our journey across Europe. They’re going to show them on-air. I thought it would be a nice way for you and my grandpa to share your stories. For the younger generations to hear your experiences firsthand.”
Grand-Paul turned to Grandpa Jack, scratching his head. “Let me guess, you’re giving your sweet granddaughter a hard time about this.”
“I don’t like the idea of a camera in my face…” He trailed off, but she could see there was more to it. Something he wasn’t saying.
“You should be honored.” Grand-Paul elbowed Grandpa Jack. “It’s not like you’re Clint Eastwood. You should be thrilled someone wants to look at your ugly mug.”
Grandpa Jack turned away, looking back to the hill. Then he shrugged. “Paul can be your star, Ava. I’ll watch.”
Ava didn’t want to argue. “Can you pop the trunk?” she asked Dennis, disappointed. “I need to get my video stuff out.”
He nodded but didn’t comment. She hurried past Dennis, afraid to look into his face to see if he still agreed with Grandpa Jack. She hoped that once they got going, Dennis would warm up to the idea. Maybe, if she prayed hard enough, Grandpa Jack would too.
A minute later, she had her video camera case, mic, and tripod in her hands, and she looked at the horizon, hoping it would stay light long enough for her to finish.
Since her hands were full, Dennis walked between the two older men, a steadying hand on each arm.
The grass was dry and high, but when she pushed it down with each step, she saw new green blades sprouting from the moist soil.
As they walked toward the hill, she remembered that officially Grand-Paul should sign a release before she taped them, but she decided not to bring it up. Not yet. It wasn’t like she was taping strangers. She’d get to that minor detail later. She was just happy that Grand-Paul had knocked some of the fight out of the other two.
“We’re really going to be on television?” Grand-Paul slowed his pace, as if the idea was just sinking in. Then he looked at Grandpa Jack as if saying, “How come you didn’t tell me about this?”
“Three million viewers!” Ava exclaimed. Why couldn’t Grandpa Jack and Dennis appreciate how exciting this was?
“Maybe there will be some pretty white-hairs watching.” Grand-Paul chuckled. “I better start practicing my autograph and jitterbug. Both are getting a little shaky these days.”
“Well, if we get fan mail I’ll be sure to pass it your way.” She loved seeing that Grand-Paul was enjoying this. Loved to see she was proving Dennis wrong.
“I can set the equipment up over here, where you won’t be able to see it.” Ava moved the tripod far enough away for them not to feel as if she was in their faces, but close enough to get a good shot.
Grandpa Jack eyed her and then turned his back to her, studying the hill.
Paul steadied himself with his cane and then ran his fingers through his hair. He turned and faced Ava with the hill behind him. “Do I look okay?”
“Perfectly handsome.” Ava set up the camera. “This is set to auto-focus, so let me figure out the view for the shot.”
Grand-Paul leaned forward on his cane, looking directly into the camera as if he was the president preparing to give an address. Despite his enthusiasm, his whole body sagged, as if he had a hard time carrying his own weight. She set the shot so it showed him midchest up, with the hill in the background. As she stepped back, he looked up at her and winked.
Ava laughed. It was Grand-Paul’s eyes that she loved the most. Lively and light blue. That was the first thing she noticed that summer evening when he and Dennis had shown up at Grandma and Grandpa’s place. Her grandparents had received Christmas cards from Paul and his wife for years, but Paul decided to visit after his wife passed away. At first Ava had been upset she had to share her summer with her grandfather’s old war buddy, but as they sat on the porch sipping lemonade, Paul had asked Ava about her life, her hobbies, her dreams for the future. She felt like an adult. She also felt special because Dennis was constantly averting his gaze when she glanced his way.
Standing in front of that hill, Grand-Paul’s eyes seemed bluer than she remembered. Maybe his beard—neatly trimmed and gray—had something to do with that. His beard had been dark before, but his smile was just as wide.
Yet now, in front of this camera, Ava got a glimpse of the serious businessperson he was. She could almost see the script of what he wanted to say running through his head.
“Watch out, Robert Redford.” He winked.
Ava put down her notebook and picked up the remote for the video camera. “Okay, Grand-Paul.” She focused on his face. “Can you start by telling me why you ended up here?”
He nodded and cleared his throat. “The Germans weren’t ready to give up, and they attacked the Americans, who were set up near Bastogne. We came in to help and to win back Belgium for the Allied forces.”
From the corner of her eye, Ava notice Grandpa Jack pause and turn. He tilted his head and then tentatively stepped closer to listen.
“We’d never faced the actual enemy before that,” Grand-Paul said. “All at once everything started. Shouts came from the sergeants. Tanks and the first wave of men crested the hill. Then they disappeared on the other side.”
Grand-Paul continued, describing how the fifteen tanks in their unit were knocked out, and how he and the other infantrymen ran over the hill to find a wall of German weapons focused on them. “It was a miracle any of us made it out alive.”
Ava glanced at Dennis for a brief moment and couldn’t help but notice his pride. And sadness. She crossed her arms over her chest, pulling them in, as if that would hold her emotions in too.
“It must have been hard, losing those men.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Ava felt foolish. Of course it was hard.
“Yes, but what we did made a difference. That first battle was hard—nearly a failure—but we kept at it. We slowly pushed them back. Inch by inch, we took the countryside and the towns. Why, I’d never seen such a celebration as when we kicked the last German soldier out of Bastogne.”
Her grandfather didn’t say anything but took more steps toward Paul. Ava widened the angle to get him in the shot. He looked so small. He glanced at her with a look of uncertainty, as if he was wondering if she still approved of him even if he refused to tell his stories.
“We were just kids. We had no idea what we’d see. No idea,” Paul said, looking into the camera.
Ava took the remote from her pocket and turned the camera off. She wanted to go to her grandfather, to tell him it was okay if he didn’t share, but inside she knew that wasn’t the truth. She wanted him to share his stories—needed him to. She just hoped he’d change his mind now that he saw how simple it was.
“See, the camera doesn’t bite,” she called to Paul, trying to act as if everything was normal.
“Are we finished?” Dennis approached.
“Almost. I need to get a few more shots.” She glanced around, noting the sun fading into the horizon, and realized that she was running out of time.
Dennis guided the grandpas gingerly across the field, back to the car. Emotion again overcame her. It was hard to see their health fail. It was harder to know they still held so much pain inside.
She stood there for a moment longer. She didn’t want to leave, not yet. She wanted to remember this place. Remember the hill where her grandfather had fought—even if he wasn’t willing to share his memories.
Dennis got the old men settled into the backseat and then returned.
As she packed up, Ava jotted down the information she needed on her video log sheet, including the order of her shots, the description of the shots, the take number, and the location of the counter.
“I was thinking we should get dinner tonight and then do some touring around Bastogne tomorrow,” Dennis said. “There’s some cool museums and stuff.”
She paused and placed a hand on his arm. “What about Chenogne? We’re so close. Should we at least drive in and look around?” She thought again about her grandfather’s reaction and couldn’t help but wonder what it was about.
“No.” Dennis picked up her camera bag. “I asked my grandfather about that. He said no.”
“But don’t you think—”
“Listen, Ava, this is their trip. It’s not about you or your videos. It’s about them.”
“Yes, it’s about them, but my grandpa was so excited about Belgium. His first question when he heard the tour was cancelled was, ‘What about Belgium?’” She placed a hand on her hip, the frustration of the moment mounting. “So we’re here, and now he’s not going to do anything?”
Dennis took a step back, holding up his palms as if to protect himself from the onslaught of her words. “Listen, we are going to see things.” He motioned toward the field. “But this is their trip and their memories. I’m letting them call the shots whether you like it or not. There are other places your grandpa wants to see, but not Chenogne.”
“Do you know something about Chenogne you’re not telling me?” She narrowed her gaze at him.
Dennis’s eyes met hers for the briefest second, and then he looked away and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m not at liberty to tell.”
A harsh laugh broke through her lips. “Are you kidding me?”
He looked down at her camera bag. “I might have considered it before you told me about your
work
.” He spread his arms wide. “But this isn’t just a lead, Ava. This is their lives. Their memories. If your grandpa wants to tell you, he will. You’ve got to take time to understand him. You’ve got to trust him.” Dennis took the tripod from her, easing her load. Then he looked at her, his eyes gentle. “And you’ve got to earn his trust,” he said in no more than a whisper.