Lauren's Dilemma by Margaret Tanner

enlisting,
the general feeling still prevailed that the war would be over by Christmas.
    “A letter
for you, Laurie, from Western
Australia. Danny, I presume?”
    “Dad, I've
been waiting for this.” She rushed out from behind the counter and snatched it
out of her father's hand. Eagerly ripping the envelope open, she read Danny’s
familiar scrawl.
    Darling Laurie,
    Things are going well. I wasn't even sea sick, though some of the other soldiers were in a bad way. We met up with a convoy in the harbor near Albany
in Western Australia.
Transports from all ov er Australia,
even a number from New
Zealand joined us.
    There is still no word about our destination,
but most of us think it will be France.
We do exercises each morning, including a route march twice around the top
deck.
    I'll close now. Write to me, won't you? When we
arrive at our destination I'll write again. All my love, Danny.
    “May I
see?”
    “Yes.”
    She handed
the letter to her father who skimmed through it.
    “Young
devil sounds pleased with himself. I don't approve of the way he opened this
letter, it's far too familiar.”
    “Danny
loves me.”
    “Does he?”
    “Yes, and I
love him, too.”
    “You've
changed, Laurie. My innocent little girl has gone.”
    “I've grown
up.”
    “It's more
than that.”
    Guilty heat
suffused her cheeks and she turned away to hide her turmoil. Did he guess what
they had done? Inwardly she felt different somehow, a woman in the true sense
of the word, but surely it didn’t show on the outside, as well?

 
    * * *

 
    The weather
became warmer; in a few weeks it would be summer. I'll be glad to wear lighter,
more colorful frocks, Laurie thought. Uncle Richard wrote, telling them Captain
Sinclair had also embarked for overseas and Helen would be staying in Sydney with friends.
    At the
store things got hectic. “People are frightened of food shortages,” her father
commented one day as he refilled the shelves. “That’s why they’re stockpiling
everything for Christmas.”
    War news
dominated every conversation. It was unavoidable. Women started knitting socks
and other items to send off to their men-folk. If only she had persevered and
learnt how to knit.
    “I’ll do
some socks for Danny,” Mrs. Trezise promised. “When I’ve finished the ones I’m
doing for my son. I told you years ago, that you should have learned how to
knit.”
    “I did try,
but I kept dropping stitches all the time.”
    “You were
half hearted, Miss Laurie, and didn’t want to learn.” Mrs. Tresize gave an
exasperated sniff. “And I don’t have time to teach you now.”
    Two days
after Christmas another letter arrived, undated but postmarked from Cairo.
    Darling Laurie,
    I've received four letters from you so far, two came in the one mail. As you
can see, we aren't in France yet. Things are a bit rough
here. We are drilling in sand past our knees practically. It is terrible. Once
I used to wish we lived by the beach, but not any more. I shall never be able
to go to the seaside again without thinking of this wretched place.
    We are tired and bored. Our day begins at 6.15
when we go out training, and sometimes we don't get to
bed until close on midnight. A lot of men have been sick
because of overwork. They're not eating properly
because they are too tired.
    I don't have a tent
yet. Ernie and I dug ourselves a hole that we covered with a piece of canvas
scrounged from somewhere and this is where I am writing the letter. Please keep
writing. We're all hungry for news of home. As nothing
much has happened, I will leave this letter for a few days, then I might have some more news to tell you.
    Three weeks have passed since I first started
writing. I know I should have finished it off sooner, but I have been
exhausted. We are camped at the base of the pyramids, just outside Cairo, and at last have been granted some leave.
    You will never guess who I ran into the other day. Captain Sinclair, only been here a few days, seems