In memory of my grandfather, Major Edward Ball Cole (1879-1918) and my father, Charles H. Cole II (1908-1987). Major Cole survived 8 days in the Field Hospital before finally succumbing to his wounds. Except for the encounter with the young French boy, Claude, the names and events of this story are real, taken from letters written by Major Edward Cole, his brother, Brigadier General Charles Cole, his wife, Mary Cole, and the hospital pharmacist, A.K. Mayer.

June 13, 1918. Major Edward Cole lies heavily sedated in the A.E.F. Field Hospital #23 in Coulommeres, France. As the morning sun lifts over the hill he hears a familiar voice:

“Ed it’s Charlie. How are you doing?”
“A little better. They’ve been working on me for a couple of days. With any luck I’ll make it.”
Brigadier General Charles Cole takes in the missing hand and extensive wounds on his brother’s arms, legs and face. Three days earlier the 1st Division had launched an attack on German machine gun nests in Belleau Wood. Major Cole insisted on going forward, where he found a group of soldiers confused and separated from their command. Seeing an opportunity for a flank attack, he led them to the nest. Surprised, the Germans found the Marines too close to fire their machine guns and started throwing hand grenades. To protect his men Ed caught one of them, and as he was throwing it back, it exploded in his hand. Fragments penetrated all over his body. Despite a tremendous loss of blood, he started to crawl back when he was picked up and brought to the field hospital. He was not expected to survive the night.
“I’ve brought flowers, some oranges and champagne for you.”
Ed looks at him. “Give them to the enlisted men, Charlie. They deserve them a damn sight more than I do. I’ll keep the flowers, though. I’ve been thinking of flowers all day, and now I have them.”
As Ed drifts in and out of consciousness all he can think of is his dear wife Mary and his two sons Charlie, 10 and Ted, 8. What are they doing today? He is grateful that they don’t know the extent of his injuries.

Back in Brookline, Massachusetts Mary has arranged to take the boys to the Marine Recruiting Office to get new war posters. All the boys in Brookline are collecting them. Ted is dressed up in his khaki Marine outfit ready to go. Charlie is late from doing an errand for his mother.
“Where is that boy? Why can’t he obey me and get back in time?” Mary complains. “We’ll just have to leave without him.”
Down at the Marine Office Lieutenant Daniels notices Ted, standing tall with his hat in his hand.
“A fine young boy you have there, Mrs. Cole.” I hope Major Cole is doing well. He is one of our finest officers.”
“Yes, the boys and I are very proud of him. I just hope he can return home soon.”
Lt. Daniels gives Ted two posters, one for Ted and one for Charlie, and Mary and Ted take the trolley back to Brookline.
Charlie, meanwhile, had met up with a group of boys going to the nearby swamp to pick strawberries. Remembering too late that he was to be home by noon, he rushes back with a hat full of strawberries and a bunch of violets.
“Where have you been? Mary asks. You missed the trip to the recruiting office to get posters. Look at the nice ones Lt. Daniels gave you boys.”
“I really didn’t mean to be disobedient, Charlie replied, “ but I went to pick strawberries. Look, I brought you some violets – your favorite.”
Looking at Charlie, Mary’s face softens as she remembers how Ed brought her flowers nearly every day when they were courting. How like her husband Charlie is – a lover of nature – always picking flowers! Just the other day he picked daisies for Aunt Grace and some flags for Nana.
Taking him firmly by the shoulders she says, “Charlie, you’re a dreamer just like your father, but you must learn to obey me.”
In the Field Hospital Ed Cole is losing strength. With the heavy scent of flowers around him he drifts back to his youth in Hingham, Massachusetts, sitting under the tall trees in the park watching the small sailboats zigzag across the harbor. At the base of each sturdy oak tree grew clusters of wild violets. How many times he picked a small bunch to give to his mother who would place them in a small vase on her bedroom bureau.
Suddenly he recalls the face of a young French boy, Claude. His mind travels back to his billet two months earlier in the Verdun Sector. It is a bright, clear day in April. He is bored and restless, and hopes that his division will soon be moved closer to the action. Saddling his horse “Prince” Ed sets out for the nearest village to get a fresh chicken for Captain Curtis and himself to enjoy for supper. The woods on either side of the road are full of wild flowers, violets and many other pretty varieties.
At the turn in the road a young boy of about 10 years jumps out in front of him on the road yelling:
“Restez-en la! Stop! I am a French soldier guarding my village.”
“Really?” asks Ed. What’s your name?”
“Claude Dubois. Who are you?”
“I’m Major Cole. This is my horse Prince. We’re going to the village to buy a chicken for supper. “
“Are you fighting the Boche? I want to fight the Germans.”
“Well hopefully by the time you’re old enough to fight, this war will be over. Look at all these beautiful flowers! Let’s go pick some for your mother and then I’ll let you ride with me on Prince back to town.”
Tethering Prince to a nearby tree Ed and Claude head into the woods to pick flowers.
“You know, I have a son just your age. His name is Charlie and he and his brother Ted live in Boston, near the ocean. In the summer they like to sail.”
“You mean sail those little boats we sail in the frog pond?”
“Oh, no! These boats are big enough to sit in and sail around the harbor.”
“Well, I’ve never seen the ocean. I want to be a soldier and have a horse like Prince. My father fought in the French Army. He was killed in February. The Germans killed him. I want to kill Germans.”
Ed places his hand gently on the boy’s shoulder:
“Claude, I hope you never have to kill anybody. War is a terrible thing. Let’s go back now and give your mother these beautiful flowers you’ve picked.”
When Ed and Claude arrive at the stone farmhouse Madame Dubois is working in a small garden plot just outside the front door.
“Bonjour!” she says. “Claude, who did you bring home today?”
“This is my friend Major Cole. He’s a Marine and this is his horse Prince.”
“I hope my son hasn’t been bothering you,” she says to Ed.
“Oh, no, not at all” Ed assures her. “He’s a fine boy. I feel as though I’m home with my two sons, Charlie and Ted. Charlie is just Claude’s age.”
“Mother, here are some flowers and violets I picked for you.”
Oh, merci, Claude! They’re lovely!”
Getting a small vase she places them on the mantle beside the photograph of her husband.
“Thank you, Major Cole for taking care of my son. I’d like to give you something to take home for dinner tonight. I have a chicken and some carrots and onions fresh from the garden. How does that sound?”
“Wonderful!” Ed replies. “As a matter of fact, I was coming to town to buy a chicken for dinner. Captain Curtis and I will eat well tonight.”

Suddenly Ed’s reverie is broken by the doctor’s voice:
“Time for your transfusion, Major! This should help to give you strength and a good night’s sleep.” Ed nods slowly.
“I’m ready.”
The next morning Ed wakes to find the hospital pharmacist, Mayer, sitting beside his cot.
“Do you have a cigarette?” he asks weakly. Mayer starts to hand him a pack of Camels when he realizes that Ed has lost most of one arm to gangrene and has no hand on the other. He places the lit cigarette in his mouth and sits with him to help him smoke it.
Ed looks over to the cot on his right, where a young Lieutenant from his Division had been lying the night before.
“Where is he?” he asks softly.
“He died during the night,” Mayer replies. “Get some sleep now, and I’ll be back to see you later this afternoon.”
As Mayer continues his rounds, Ed gazes at the flowers beside his cot and falls into a deep sleep.