Oh, Colorado

So, this post was inspired by a quick section in Stephen E. Ambrose’s “D-Day.” In it there is a section where a French Maiden meets some American soldiers from Colorado. They treated her so well that she just assumed that Colorado was awesome. She was right, but this is an interpretation of how that happened.

The door of the house was splintered, the 200 year old wood slowly weakening. The French Maiden had heard of the invasion by the Americans a few months before, trying her best prepare. The Nazis had caused a huge divide in the community. There were two types of people. Those who fought the Nazis, and those who didn’t care one way or another. All sides were in pure terror. Those who fought were afraid of the Germans retaliating. Those in the middle were afraid of both sides. Those who fought with the Germans were afraid of the Americans. All cowering in their homes, waiting for one side or the other to take over. 

The woman in this particular house was named Amélie Lacroix. Her husband had gone off to fight against the Germans. He had gotten word about the invasion through their local Resistance leader. The warning had said, “Stay inside when you hear the words ‘Bacon, Bacon’ on the radio. This is the signal that the invasion is starting.” Once the signal had been said on the radio Amélie had barred the door, blocked the windows, and stayed upstairs. It had been five hours since this had happened. She couldn’t tell who was breaking down the door. She hoped it was the Americans. She couldn’t speak German, but she could speak English. Her father had been from England, and had taught her before he died in The Great War.

The door finally broke. The people were shouting in English. “Is anyone here? Come out with your hands up!” Amélie was afraid, yet she came out anyway. There were two soldiers, one tall one with what she recognized as a Browning LMG. The other soldier was small and had a Red Cross on the side of his helmet. Both of them has a weird flag on their arms. It wasn’t the American flag. It was a red C with a stripe through the middle. The white stripe had two big blue lines on the side. The bigger soldier spoke first. “Ma’am, do you speak English?” “A bit. It has been a while.” The smaller soldier spoke next. “Can you tell us about where we are. We are the last of the crew that landed here, and we landed at the wrong place.” Amélie considered this for a trade. “I shall tell you about this place if you tell me about where you are from. What does that flag mean?” The soldier immediately jumped into conversation. They talked to fast Amélie to understand completely, so she asked them to sit down and talk slower. 

After she served them coffee and crumpets they started to explain. The small one introduced himself as Jeff, and the big one as Bill. Bill started the conversation. “We are from a State in the USA called Colorado. In this State there is a town called Manitou Springs. Now you tell us about here.” Amélie, not satisfied in the least bit begins to ask more questions. “What is the flag on your arm? What does Colorado look like? What does Manitou mean?” Jeff answered next. “The flag on our arms is the Colorado flag. The C stands for Colorado while the red stands for our red soil. I think I even brought some with me.” Jeff pulls out a plastic bag with red dirt, which seemed dryer than the soil in France. “The white stands for the snow that we have on our mountains almost all year long. The mountains in Colorado are huge. Most of the peaks in our state are over 14,000 feet tall.” Amélie was confused by the use of feet. “Feet.” Jeff realizes his mistake. “Over 4200 meters.” This left Amélie astonished. The highest mountain in France was 5,000 meters, but the second highest was 3,000 meters. She then asks them, “How did you meet in such a big place?” Bill and Jeff look at each other. They think back to when they first met.

“You there! Boy!” Bill paused and turned to face the man standing in the doorway of the Red Dog Café. It was Mr. Jenkins. The old man had lived in Manitou for his whole life, and was considered to be annoying by everyone else. He had seen Emma Crawford get buried, and saw her coffin slide down hill. This made him a wise, yet bitter old man. Bill hesitantly responded with, “Yes Mr. Jenkins.” Mr. Jenkins himself replied with a “humph.” “Come in kid. I need help with this kid. I don’t understand him.” Bill, being the nice guy that he is, went inside to help. Inside there was a kid about 12 years old. He was sick in bed. Mr. Jenkins told Bill, “I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He has had this fever for twelve hours. When he got here, he was fine. I need somebody t’ watch him while I find a doctor.” Bill just stood there for a second before stammering out, “Sir Yes Sir!” “Good boy.” Mr. Jenkins went outside to find the doc while Bill was left with the boy. After five minutes, Bill asked the boy a single question. “What is your name?” The boy shakily replied with, “Jeff. My name is Jeff.” Bill laughed and said, “Welcome to Colorado Jeff. Welcome to the land of mountains, red dirt, and altitude sickness.”

“And that is how we met. Within a week Jeff here was good-as-new, and we had become inseparable. I showed him the mountains, the skiing, and the sunshine. Best days of my life.” Jeff chuckled with a, “Mine too.” Bill quickly calmed, and asked, “Now, if you don’t mind my asking Ma’am, where are we, and how do we get to where we’re going?” After giving them soldiers directions, they stayed a while longer for some coffee. They departed with a, “Godspeed Amélie. Godspeed.” Amélie never went to Colorado, but she said to everyone, “Oh Sweet Colorado!”