Captain Lucy in the Home Sector

The Home Sector,—that was what Larry Eaton called it, a little irony beneath his irrepressible cheerfulness, when he had been ordered to Coblenz with the American Army of Occupation. He had called it so with his eyes on the Stars and Stripes already floating over the general’s headquarters in the old German city, and after a sidelong glance at Lucy Gordon’s sober face. “It’s the first step on the way home, Lucy,” he said, as the two walked along the grassy banks of the river, the pale December sunlight shining on the water and, at their left, on the low houses at the outskirts of Coblenz. “Don’t look so downhearted, old pal.”

Lucy smiled and shook off her depression. It was hard ever to be gloomy for long in Larry’s company. The young aviator had something invincibly gay and hopeful in his nature, and a philosophic acceptance of things, until they could be bettered, that often quieted Lucy’s rebellious moments. “I’m not downhearted, Larry,” she protested. “At least not very. But I did want to go home,—not after a while, you know, but right away, when the armistice was signed. I know it’s wonderful to be at peace, and to have Father safe and stationed here, but,—I don’t care very much about living in Germany.”