Baykit Epolog
By Leslie Schmidt
Amazing how things work out.
Five years later, as Islamic militia closed in on the Exxon-Mobile compound in Warri, a Chinook helicopter, escorted by two Blackhawk gunships, appeared to evacuate the dozen or so Americans still working there. I had the misfortune to have an AK-47 round pass through my shoulder as I ran up the ramp of the CH-46. My time on the USS Saipan and evacuation to Ramstein Air Force Base is a haze but, after a week in the hospital I was able to call Magda in Rostock. She arrived the next morning.
Being a doctor, she was very professional while the staff was around but, as soon as the Air Force nurse left the room, she pulled the curtain closed around my bed...
We didn't do anything more than kiss, but I still got some good natured kidding from the Airman I was sharing the room with.
Three days later I was sitting in Magda's living room when Natasha walked in. Now seventeen, she was even more of a split image of her mother-tall, thin, dark hair and astonishing poise--the only difference was that Magda had grown her hair out. She folded up her white cane and put it in the pocket of her coat, then hung the coat on a rack by the door.
"Tasha, we have a guest," Magda said from the sofa, in German.
Natasha turned but she obviously couldn't make me out.
"Hi darling," I said in English.
"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, in Russian. "Les!"
She ran to me and I almost passed out from the pain when she hugged me.
Vika was a little more reserved when she got home, and our relationship that evening was awkward. Still, over the next few weeks we got to know each other again. She had had a difficult time adjusting to Germany, but had gotten together enough to qualify for the academic high school.
The girls understood that what had happened in Baykit had to stay there.
Six months later my brother flew in from LA and stood up for me on a beach in Spain.