March 13, 1948: Clearwater, Florida:
The night was still and quiet as Roger Cleaves lay in bed, his mind drifting between uneasy sleep and wakefulness. The weight of the nightmares had become heavier with each passing night, and tonight was no different. Evelyn, now eight months pregnant with their first child, slept peacefully beside him, her growing belly a testament to the life they were about to bring into the world.
His nightmares had begun gradually, and for reasons Roger couldn't quite fathom, had begun after he'd learned that he was about to become a father. Recently, they'd been occurring more frequently. Now that spring training had begun, Roger had hoped that the physical activity would leave him too tired for the nightmares. But that hadn't been the case.
Roger also felt like it was affecting his play. He'd played two games thus far, going 0-for-2 in the spring opener versus Washington and then 1-for-3 two days later against the Gothams - and worst of all, he'd struck out three times. He wasn't alone in his cold start: Bobby was 0-for-7 and Hank Koblenz 1-for-7. Keystones skipper Carl Ames wasn't griping - yet - but unless the club's big bats woke up, he soon would be. Roger rolled over, putting baseball out of his mind. He was playing the next day and needed to get some sleep.
Bobby had the other bedroom in the apartment and unlike Roger, he'd left his wife home. The difference there was that Ev was pregnant and Bobby's wife Annette was not. Bobby and Annette also already had two kids.
Thinking about how nice it had been of Bobby to allow Roger and Ev to grab the bigger bedroom in the apartment, Roger finally felt himself drifting off to sleep.
Suddenly Roger found himself back in the darkness of the nightmare, the chaos of battle unfolding around him once more. He was back on bloody Tarawa again, and he was pinned down on the beach by a relentless barrage of enemy machine gun fire. His heart pounded in his chest as he huddled with his fellow Marines, the deafening sounds of gunfire and explosions echoing in his ears. The acrid smell of gunpowder filled the air, and fear gripped his soul.
He looked around, seeing the faces of his comrades, each one etched with determination and terror. They were like brothers, bound together by the crucible of war. Roger's mind raced, worrying about their safety, praying that they would make it out of this nightmare alive.
"Keep your heads down!" he shouted, his voice drowned out by the cacophony of battle. "We'll make it through this! We need to get off this beach!"
But no matter how hard they fought, the enemy's assault seemed unending, artillery blasts sending razor-sharp shrapnel everywhere. Roger watched in horror as one by one, his friends fell, their bodies hitting the ground with a sickening thud. He tried to reach out to them, to pull them to safety, but he was paralyzed by the overwhelming sense of helplessness.
As the nightmare reached its crescendo, Roger's heart pounded in his chest, and he was gasping for breath. He felt trapped, unable to escape the memories that held him captive. But just as it seemed the nightmare would consume him, a warm light pierced the darkness.
As Roger thrashed, Evelyn had stirred beside him, her brow furrowing in concern. She turned on the lamp and gently shook him awake, her voice filled with worry. "Roger, are you okay? You were shouting in your sleep again."
Roger blinked, his heart racing as he returned to the present. He looked at Evelyn, her worried eyes reflecting the love and concern she held for him. Guilt washed over him for disturbing her sleep with his own turmoil.
"I'm sorry, Evelyn," he whispered, reaching out to caress her cheek. "It was just a bad dream, that's all. I didn't mean to wake you."
Evelyn held his hand, concern still evident in her expression. "You don't have to apologize, Roger. I'm more worried about you," she said softly, her voice tinged with emotion.
As they spoke, a soft knock came at the door. Bobby. His uncle had been awakened too by Roger's cries and after knocking, he called out, "Hey, Roger, everything alright in there?"
Roger quickly composed himself and called back, "Yeah, Bobby, it's fine. Just a bad dream, that's all."
Bobby knew about Roger's nightmares; Roger had told him about them while on a road trip the previous season. Now Bobby's voice was filled with understanding as he replied, "Alright, just making sure. Let me know if you need anything, okay?"
Roger thanked him, then turned his attention back to Evelyn. "Great, even Bobby's concerned," he said with a faint grimace.
Evelyn nodded, but her worry didn't fade. "Roger, you don't have to carry this burden alone. I know the war was tough, and those memories won't easily fade, but I'm here for you. We're in this together," she said, her voice filled with determination. She then told Roger about how her father had fought on the Western Front in the First World War and how he'd had nightmares too. "It's nothing to be ashamed about," she told him.
Roger took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his emotions lifting ever so slightly. He knew Evelyn was right. He was, and probably always would be, reluctant to discuss his wartime experiences. Some of what he'd seen... was too barbaric to put into words. But as he thought about it, he realized that he didn't have to face the nightmares and the aftermath of war alone. With Evelyn by his side, he felt stronger, more capable of confronting the ghosts that haunted him.
"You're right," he admitted, a sense of relief washing over him. "I'm so grateful for you, Evelyn. And I promise, I'll try to talk about it more. I won't shut you out."
Evelyn smiled, her love for him shining through. "That's all I want, Roger. To be here for you, no matter what," she said, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead.
As they settled back into bed, Roger felt a sense of peace enveloping him. He knew the nightmares might not vanish overnight, but with Evelyn's love and support, he could face them head-on. And with the arrival of their child just around the corner, he was filled with hope for the future.
Together, they drifted back to sleep, their hands intertwined, ready to face whatever challenges came their way as a united front. As the first light of dawn painted the sky, Roger reminded himself just how lucky he was. Many guys hadn't come back from the maelstrom of death and destruction that had been the war. And Roger was doubly lucky because he had not only survived the war, but also found someone truly special. The war left him scarred, but it had also brought Evelyn into his life, and for that Roger would always be grateful.
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Roger and Evelyn Cleaves, 1948
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