Читать книгу Emory's Story - Paul Holleran - Страница 7

Chapter 1

Going to War

May 1944

“I promise you, I will be back. The war will be over soon.” He looked at her, and he saw the tears forming in the corner of her beautiful green eyes. “I may not even go ‘over there.’”

“Emory, I love you, and you know I won’t try and stop you. But if you don’t keep your promise”—and here she paused before she wiped a tear from her cheek—“why, I’ll never forgive you.”

“Irene, you are the reason I have to go. If you can’t live where you are free, then there is nothing worth fighting for.” Emory looked at Irene with tears in his own eyes. He had known her for two years, and from the moment he had seen her, he had known there could be no other. It was 1944, and war was rampant in Europe and the Pacific. He knew he would enlist as soon as high school was over. There had never been a question as to whether or not he would join. His best friend, Corbin, and he had decided to do it together. They were to leave for the air corps training facility in Texas on the following Tuesday. Six weeks in Texas and they would probably be trained to do evacuations. The war would be ending soon; the radio said so every day. They would most assuredly never get to Europe or the Pacific. The sergeant from the office in Frankfort had told them that.

“Irene, I will think of you every single moment I’m gone.”

“Emory,” Irene said as she leaned into his shoulder and put her head against his neck, “you have to come home. I won’t allow you to be gone too long.”

They were sitting at the end of the long ridge across from Emory’s parents’ house. They loved to walk back here. Emory had brought Irene back here to see where he planned on building them a home. He especially loved the way the end of the ridge sloped. It fell steeply on all three sides like the back end of a horse. A house built here would be like a castle. He told Irene that he could see them sitting on a porch overlooking the lake that he planned to build. He told her it would wind around the bottom of the hill on all three sides. “It will be our own little deserted island, sort of.” He told her this the first time he brought her here.

“Mr. Story, I do think you’re rushing things a bit.” She smiled, and he saw the innocence in her sparkling green eyes as her cheeks turned crimson red.

“Irene, when I saw you in church on the day your family moved here, I told Corby that he was looking at the future Mrs. Emory Story.”

“Oh, Emory, how could you have known any sort of thing?” she asked.

“When I saw you and our eyes met, I swear I felt an arrow pierce my heart. Now, I feel my heart leap every time I see you.” Emory felt embarrassed by his confession. He reached over and squeezed her hand.

“Then tell me, Mr. Story, why didn’t you speak to me for two weeks?” she asked him.

“I was so scared that you would say no,” Emory said as he hung his head to the side, not wanting to look at her.

“Emory, I fell in love with you a little more every time that your eyes looked away. When our eyes met, I too felt Cupid’s arrow.”

They sat on the end of the ridge with the sun setting behind them. Emory turned to face her, looking into her eyes. “Irene, you are the reason I live. We will keep this country free or die trying.”

Irene shivered in his arms and said, “Now don’t you say things like that. When you get home, we’ll build that house right here.”

Emory just smiled and pulled her closer. “Do you mean that, Irene?” he asked.

“I know that I will never love anyone else. So don’t you go sticking your neck out to be a hero. Just come home.” Here she paused while she rubbed the corner of her eye. “You have to.”

*****

When the day came for Emory and Corbin to travel by train to Texas, Irene sat at the train station in a brand-new white dress. Emory thought she looked like an angel. He slowly walked toward her while dragging his oversized luggage. He knew that he probably would not get to keep many of his own things, but there were some things that he could not leave at home.

He pulled the suitcase up onto the platform and stopped right in front of her. Her dark hair fell all around her shoulders. The brim of her hat hid half of her face. She looked up at him. He stared back at the golden specks in her green eyes.

“I don’t want you to go,” she said.

“You know I have to,” he told her. “Besides, the war really is almost over. I’ll be home before you know it.”

Tears were falling down her cheeks. All she could think of was the possibility of never seeing him again. “Emory Phillip Story, you come back to me.”

He could barely understand her words. He reached for her and hugged her as tight as he could. They stood there, silhouetted against the rising sun.

“Hey, Storybook, can’t you keep your hands off of her for one minute?” Corbin Lowell Cook could never keep his mouth shut. He had a comment for every occasion. He came around the corner of the depot carrying a very small duffel bag.

“Does that bag contain all of your worldly possessions, Cookbook?” Emory asked him.

“Those are just my county possessions. I’ll fill it with my worldly stuff when we get ‘over there,’” he blurted without thinking. Irene suddenly burst into tears again and ran down the steps toward the tracks.

Emory looked at Corby and said, “Thanks a lot.” He jumped from the platform and followed her until they were both standing in the middle of the tracks.

She looked into his eyes and told him to promise her one more time that he was coming home and not to be a hero. He just stood there holding her until they heard the train whistle. Several people had shown up to say goodbye to the latest crop of young men that were making this journey. Emory saw his parents, his two sisters, Corby’s parents and little brother, several friends, and a few cousins. He suddenly became aware of the reality that he was leaving. Up to this day, he had only left the State of Kentucky on three separate occasions. He squeezed Irene’s hand, and she squeezed back. “I love you, Irene Rose Dixon,” he whispered in her ear. “You wait on me. Write me every day.” He pulled her closer to him and said, “I’ll be home before you know it. Then I am going to marry you.”

She was crying when she looked up at him. “You just come home.”

Corby hurried up beside them and, in his most official voice, said, “All aboard!” He smiled at Irene.

She looked him straight in the eye and said, “Get that silly grin off your face. You listen to me. I’m counting on you to bring him home. Don’t go runnin’ that mouth of yours and gettin’ the both of you in trouble. Just …” She stopped talking and hugged Em one last time.

The conductor was now officially calling, “All aboard!”

“I’ll write as soon as I get on the train. I’ll mail it the first chance I get.” He looked deeply into her eyes and said, “I love you, Irene. When you think of me, remember that, as long as I live, I will love only you.”

He stood at the rail as the train slowly began to accelerate. It would take almost two whole days to travel southwest to Texas. He shaded his eyes with the back of his hand and stared at the white dress. She stood alone with the sun rising behind her. I’ll never see her again. The thought crashed into his head so fast that he actually lost his balance. Why would I feel that? he wondered. He shivered as the doomsday feeling began to overwhelm him. The sun fell behind a drifting cloud, momentarily shading all the landscape except for the little knoll where Irene stood. The white dress shimmered in the lone sunbeam that surrounded her. She waved with her right arm while her left hand rested on her hip. Before she disappeared, Em had the feeling again that he might never see her again.

Corbin Lowell Cook came bursting through the door. “Hey, Em, wake up! You look like you just lost your best friend, but that couldn’t be true. ’Cause I’m right here.” He looked at the spot where Emory was staring and said, “Hey, come on in. You can’t even see her anymore. She’ll be here when we get back.”

Em continued to stare at the tracks and said, “If we get back.”

“Shut up. Of course, we’re comin’ back. You will marry Irene, and I’ll live in the spare room. She’ll love it.” Corby pulled him toward the door.

The train pulled into the station. Emory and Corby stared out of the window. It looked like the busiest place on earth. They were still in a civilian train station, but it looked like the military had taken over. There were soldiers in uniform everywhere. Military vehicles were being lifted onto flatcars. Everywhere they looked, all they saw were soldiers. There were no women or children anywhere. Suddenly, they both felt very small.

“You ready for this, Em?” Corbin sat with his face almost touching the window.

Emory saw, to his amazement, just how young and inexperienced the two of them were. Here they were, barely eighteen years old, straight from the hills of Kentucky. What are we doing here? he thought. The two of them had seemed so mature and wise back home. Now Em felt as if he were going to school for the first time, although this was much more frightening. We are winning the war, he thought, and it is almost over. We’ll be home by Christmas. I’ll marry Irene, and everything is going to be as it should be.

“All right, you bunch of maggots! Line up and shut up!”

Here we go, Em thought. He and Corby stepped into the aisle and got in line. The next few hours were like a nightmare. Em and the rest of the bewildered young men were never left alone, even for one second. Someone, or a group of someones, were always in their faces, screaming or swearing. Emory thought he was a little better prepared for this than Corby. He had only seen Corby for brief seconds since they were lined up alphabetically. He assumed that they would be reunited later. He hoped that Corby shared his confidence.

Corbin Lowell Cook had been tagging along with Emory since they were the only boys at Sunday school back a few years before the war had begun. His family had always been poor even before the Depression. Corbin practically lived with Emory and his family. He was a skinny kid with even skinnier legs. His hair was cut uneven across his entire head. That, coupled with the fact that he rarely bathed, made his hair look like a rotting mophead. Along with the acne that was mercifully starting to diminish, he made for a rather puny figure.

After hours of waiting in lines and learning how to not make eye contact with anyone, Emory was finally shown the barracks where he would be housed for the next six to eight weeks. Just as he thought, the barracks were as minimal as could be. Fifty bunks lined up in two rows. Names already stenciled on the sides. Alphabetical.

Emory found his name on the sixth bunk from the end of the second row. He slung the heavy green duffel bag off his shoulder. It landed with a thump beside the foot locker at the end of the bed. The smell of mothballs wafted through the air. When Em heard the duffel bag hit the floor beside him, he turned to see the guy who had been in line behind him all day. He was rubbing his hand over his freshly shaved head.

“I don’t think we’re going to get to use those bunks any time soon, huh?” He rubbed his hand on his pant leg and then held it out. “I’m Jack. Jack Turner.” Em shook his hand and introduced himself. “Where you from?” Jack asked.

“Kentucky. How about you?” Emory kept feeling the need to look over his shoulder. He expected someone in uniform to come screaming into the room at any moment. No one had yelled at him in over five minutes. For just a brief moment, he started to feel a little normal.

“Florida.” Jack leaned against the wall and looked around the room. “Going to get crowded in here too.”

Em moved to the other side of the room and started to look at the names stenciled on the bunks directly across from him. He felt elated when he saw “Cook, C3981.” He quickly made his way back to his side of the room. The last thing he wanted was to be noticed. His plan to get through basic training was simple—lie low, keep your mouth shut, and don’t volunteer for anything. Em really believed the war was soon to be a part of history. He hoped that the training he was about to receive would be used to fly soldiers home from “over there.” He also hoped, and this was his greatest hope, that Corby could somehow keep up and maybe even excel in his training. He had always kind of looked out for Corby. He really was like a little brother.

*****

Once, when Em and Corby were twelve years old, they were riding horses along the fencerow of Em’s father’s farm. His father had told him that the fence was in pretty good shape. It should not take them more than an hour and a half to ride it and repair any area of concern. However, as Em learned—not for the first time—when Corby was involved, things usually got out of hand.

They had begun their task around seven o’clock in the morning. It was now almost noon, and they were barely halfway around the seventy-five acres. Corby had accomplished nothing. Between seven and eight, all they had done was saddle the horses. Every time he watched Corby saddle one of the horses, it was as if he was watching him do it for the first time. Every time, the first thing Corby would do was throw the saddle on backward. Then he would swear and try to calm the horse. Once, the saddle was on the horse’s back. He needed to get the strap under the horse’s belly. As he reached under the horse, trying to reach the other end of the strap, he looked as though he was tickling the poor animal. The horse began to sidestep, and he bent over even farther, walking like a duck, reaching for the strap. While he walked blindly, he forgot how close he was to the pond. He waddled straight under the horse and into the water. However, he did manage to grab the strap. This enabled him to pull the saddle off the horse and onto his head, sending him and the saddle into the muddy water.

When he and Corby had finally begun to ride the fencerow at eight forty-five, Corby’s trouble seemed to escalate. His father’s farm was notorious for the rock that seemed to grow from the ground. Over the years, some interesting things had been built from the endless supply of field rock. Now, Corby was navigating his horse through a very uneven section of creek bottom. Dynamite, Corby’s horse, decided that Corby’s route was not that acceptable, so he proceeded to return to the main trail. The shortest path was straight up the bank. He went that way. He did not care who was on his back. His only concern was getting himself under the branch. The person on his back would have to look out for himself.

Corby dove off the side of the horse and landed in the watery creek bed. This was not the last time he would wind up in the creek. Em rode over to Corby’s horse and calmed him down. Corby climbed out of the creek. After helping Corby back onto his horse, Em persuaded him to stay on the path.

The next couple of hours went as smoothly as possible where Corby was concerned. There were only two places where they had to repair any fence, but here it was almost eleven o’clock in the morning, and they had a long way to go. Em wished they had brought some food. Just then, Corby and his horse started to gallop. Before Em could do anything, the distance between his and Corby’s horse grew. Still not too concerned, Em picked up his pace. When Corby’s horse took a sudden right turn, Em looked up the hill. The barn was visible, but just barely. Corby’s horse, controlling all navigation, was headed straight for the barn. He did not seem at all concerned about the honey locust trees in his path. Em kicked Sugar, his horse, and she galloped toward Corby and Dynamite.

Sugar was definitely the fastest of Em’s four horses, and she caught up to Corby before they reached the thorn trees. Sugar had no trouble maneuvering around Dynamite and cutting him off. Another second and Corby would have been pierced in several parts of his anatomy. When Dynamite finally calmed down, he would not let Corby mount him again. Em reluctantly gave up Sugar and finished the day riding Dynamite. “Now, Corby, stay behind me and let’s get this done. I’m hungry.”

The boys continued riding, not seeing any other places that needed mending. They talked about nothing in particular. Soon, they arrived at the mouth of the creek, where their small creek ran into a larger one, which led to the Ohio River. The creek surrounded the ridge where Em wanted to build a house someday.

They rode the last section of fence where the creek began. Em pointed to the small pool of water that seemed to be feeding the entire creek. His father had shown him this when he was a small boy. He was just as fascinated now as he was then. Water came straight from the ground. This phenomenon was possible because of an underground spring that never ceased to produce cool, clean, running water. This really helped out when the county experienced droughts. No matter how dry it was, the spring always fed the creek with clean water. The cows stayed down here in the summertime. They would not drink from the pond, only from the creek.

Em told Corby of his plan to build a house. He told him that if he looked up the hill right then, he could see where the house’s roof would be.

“Em, I’m sorry I made this take so long. I’m always slowing you down,” Corby said.

“Don’t worry about it, Corb. If you weren’t here, it wouldn’t be any fun at all.” Em knew how much Corby thought of their friendship. He had to admit to himself that he cared as much as Corby. He wondered at that time if the two of them would always be friends.

****

Just as Em started to relax, the barracks erupted with chaos. It seemed every other group had arrived at the same exact moment. He immediately began to search for Corby. He walked to the other side of the room where Corby’s bunk was. He saw several frightened faces searching for their names. He looked down to check the name on Corby’s bunk again. When he straightened up and turned around, Corby was staring at him. He had the biggest grin Em had ever seen on his face. “I-thought-we-were-separated-for-good-Em-I-sure-am-glad-to-see-you,” he said this as though the whole sentence were one word.

“How’s it going, Corb?” Em asked him.

Before Corby could respond, their new “Mom” entered. “All you girls better be where you are supposed to be, and I mean one minute ago!”

Em was already getting used to all the screaming; however, he noticed that Corby flinched every time Mom got a little louder. Em knew that not only would their friendship be tested but also every other aspect of their being. Mom continued to scream. Every once in a while, he would single someone out and get right in their face. Most of the time, Em thought that they brought the attention onto themselves. Em started to practice being invisible. He noticed everyone’s faces. It was hard not to, now that they were all bald. He had only spoken to a couple of the others in his group, but after the trip to the barber, he had difficulty distinguishing one from another. He tried to pick out some of the faces from earlier, but it was so hard to tell who was who with everyone dressed in the same olive-green fatigues. The poor souls that Mom had found to be amusing were trying desperately not to be noticed. Em believed that their efforts would prove to be futile. He knew that Mom had branded them. He was happy to see that Corby was not one of them.

When the lights finally went out, the whispering began immediately. Em and Corby caught up on the day’s events. Em already noticed a slight change in Corby. He saw a hint of confidence in him.

“Em, I want you to meet Larry. We’ve been watching out for each other all day,” Corby whispered. Corby continued to talk just as he always did. Em knew it would get him into trouble someday. Em felt a little uneasy as he listened to his friend. He could not understand the feelings he was experiencing. Was it envy that Corby had found a friend so fast? Was it actually envy? Em realized he kind of enjoyed having Corby depend on him. It was kind of like being a father. He really wanted Corby excel here, but something inside of him wanted Corby to still need him. He liked being the “big brother.” With only his two sisters at home, Corby had saved him from many tea parties when they were younger.

They whispered for a few minutes before the noisy whispers all around them began to diminish. Somehow, Em knew that Corby would be the last one to speak.

“I want everyone in here to know,” Corby was talking out loud, “that no matter what happens, I will do my best to see that we all live through this war and that I will never turn my back on any of you.”

Then there was silence. Evidently, those words somehow soothed everyone or made them think of the war. Em didn’t hear another sound until the snoring began.

The first thing Em remembered hearing the next morning were the bunk springs all around him. Every time someone moved, the springs made a terrible racket. Em didn’t know if anyone else slept better than he did. He instinctively looked across the aisle to see if Corby was awake yet. He did not see him anywhere.

“Excuse me. Aren’t you Turner? We were in the same group yesterday,” Em spoke to the tall airman with the tanned skin who occupied the bunk between him and Corby.

“Yeah. I’m Jack. You’re Story, right?” Jackson Turner introduced himself again to Em. He could not stop rubbing his bald head.

Before either one could think of anything else to say, their new mom came in screaming. As he made his way past Em and Jack, Em saw the name tag on his uniform. When Em saw that their new mom’s name was Sergeant Cannon, he thought it seemed appropriate. The one with a mouth so large, he was named Cannon.

“You maggots get over here and stand at attention! I haven’t told you how to dress yet!” The screaming was endless.

Em and Jack got in line and proceeded to the other side of the room. All of them were in their underwear. It seemed that no one was entirely sure exactly what standing at attention was. Whenever someone moved their head, Cannon exploded in their face. When Corby and Larry walked out of the latrine, shadowboxing like they were on the playground at school, Cannon charged at them like a bull. Em watched as Cannon walked straight up to Corby and punched him right in the gut! Corby doubled over and gasped for air. Cannon began to rant once again. He screamed something about a hillbilly Kentucky idiot. Em decided then that he would not refer to Cannon as Mom anymore.

Corby stood as still as a statue while Cannon screamed. He was no longer gasping for air. Em was afraid that Corby and Larry had just gotten themselves put on the favorite recruit list.

The following three hours, they did nothing but march around on an abandoned runway strip. Up and back, up and back. Em didn’t mind at all. It was somehow a calming ritual. Once again, it seemed that some of the guys just couldn’t get it right. He couldn’t believe that these guys were so immature and clumsy. All of them were at least eighteen years old, and marching was simply walking with a beat. American soldier’s style of marching was as unspectacular as any military in the world. These guys looked like pistons rising up and down in an engine block.

Sergeant Cannon had not let Corby out of his sight since he came out of the latrine earlier. He was now in the front of the formation, right beside Sergeant Cannon. The rest of them were aligned according to their height. When Sergeant Cannon had put them in marching order, he had bellowed, “If you are taller than the man in front of you, tap him on the shoulder and trade places with him!” This enabled the front of the formation to be bigger, possibly to intimidate opposing armies. Em was fifth in line, in column 4, about as far away from Sergeant Cannon as possible, which suited Em fine. Em felt incredible pity for Corby; he just could not do one thing right in Sergeant Cannon’s eyes.

“What’s wrong, hillbilly boy? Them shoes hurt your feet?” Cannon was unrelenting. It seemed he never got tired of screaming, especially when it came to Corby. Corby, however, was adapting to the attention remarkably well. Em had not seem him flinch in over two hours.

Mercifully, they were led to the chow hall at eleven forty-five. The last thing Cannon said, and the only thing he did not scream, was “Relax, boys. Enjoy your meal.” All of them doubted they were going to get to enjoy their meal. Throughout the entire morning, they were not permitted to speak to one another. Each of them knew very little about any of the others. Column 4 was allowed to be first in line, so Em was seated at one of the first tables. Jackson Turner sat in the seat next to him. Aside from Larry and Corby, Jackson was the only other person he knew by first name.

“Hey, Jackson. You think the rest of these guys will ever learn to walk?” Em began the conversation. He had noticed that Jackson, as the front man in column 4, had no trouble marching in unison.

“That poor Cook guy ain’t got a chance,” Jackson said. “I’m glad I’m not in his shoes.”

The conversation did not continue. It seemed both of them realized just how hungry they were. Em also doubted that they would be given much time to eat. The marching had made them hungrier than they could have imagined. Just as Em was shoveling the last bite of meat product they were eating, he saw Corby going through the line. Once again, he had the attention of a couple of sergeants. It was as if he were a magnet, the way they were attracted to him. Corby was taking it well. He filled his plate and sat down at the first table he came to. He grabbed his fork and scooped a pile of potatoes. Like a moth to a flame, Cannon materialized out of nowhere and knocked Corby’s fork from his hand. “You think we got all day, Cookie? Get on back out there and form them up. Keep them at attention!” Then he whispered something in Corby’s ear and walked back to his table.

Corby did not hesitate and never tried to take another bite. He simply arose from the table and started to survey the room. What he did next took the entire room by surprise. He went table to table ordering everyone outside. Some had eaten nothing at all. Em was totally surprised that Corby took control of the situation. He took it in stride and made the best of it. Once the room was empty and everyone was outside, Corby formed them up the same as they were previously. Once they were lined up and at attention, he never said another word. From then on, everyone was comfortable with Corby hogging the attention. Em could see the looks on some of the faces, and none of them was at all envious. From Em’s position near the front of the formation, he could see that everyone was doing his best to remain perfectly still. He assumed that things were the same behind him.

When Sergeant Cannon finally emerged through the chow hall doors, twenty minutes later, strolling along casually, with a toothpick dangling between his lips, he looked in one direction only, front left. For the first time since he arrived, Em saw a look on Cannon’s face that did not seem menacing. In fact, it almost looked as though he wanted to smile. The look vanished as quickly as it had appeared. He once again started to scream. Corby was obviously his target.

The rest of the day was much like the first half. No matter who was making the mistake, it was somehow linked to Corby’s inability to lead the formation. However, the mistakes were becoming fewer and fewer. They were becoming a qualified marching unit. After four more hours and two rainstorms, they could make it around the entire flight line with minimal mistakes. Some of the weaker guys would fall out of formation from time to time. This was not to their benefit. Instead of getting to recover, they were pushed to their limit. This brought tears to some of the men. As punishment for falling out of formation, they were made to run in place until they threw up. When Sergeant Cannon thought that someone dropped out for any other reason than exhaustion, he made them run circles around the entire flight while the marching continued.

They were finally led back to the barracks, two hours after dark. Each of them was given two minutes to shower. They were not to attempt to shave or clean their teeth. Cannon had informed them that they would need special instructions on those tasks. After their shower, they would assemble in the room opposite of Cannon’s office. Before he had entered his office, he shouted, “Clean the stink off and get in there and sit down. And don’t talk!”

Sergeant Cannon began his speech with an insult. “You look like a bunch of worms.” Instructions were given on various things. Polishing boots, ironing underwear, standing in line, facing forward even! Every sentence from his mouth started to blend together. Em saw several of the others’ heads droop occasionally. He reminded himself to stay awake and pay attention. Sitting on the cold floor, in their underwear, did not seem to be keeping anyone awake. It was close to eleven o’clock in the evening, and Em knew that reveille would be before four thirty in the morning. The next thing Cannon did was to assign special duties. He asked for volunteers for chow runners. He looked at each one of them, staring straight into each set of eyes. “I understand if no one wants to volunteer, but I’m telling you, if I have to assign these positions, it will not be as pleasant!”

Em knew that this was some kind of trick. His uncle had told him, “No matter what, don’t volunteer for anything.” He remembered every word. He also remembered telling Corby the same thing. When Corby spoke, as if on cue, it did not surprise Em at all.

“I volunteer, Sergeant Cannon.” Em only moved his eyes to look at Corby. He saw that Corby was starting to rise.

“What are you doing, Cookie? Nobody told you to get up!” Corby dropped back onto the floor. Sergeant Cannon did not miss a beat. “Get back up now! You want to be a chow runner? You better get started on your training!”

The only thought that kept repeating itself inside Em’s head was “Don’t he ever get tired?” He had been with them since before the sun came up. He had screamed all day. He simply had to be as tired as the rest of them. The funny thing was, he did not look at all tired. Even though he still had on the same uniform as he had been wearing at four thirty in the morning, it was as crisp and clean now as it was then.

Corby stood at attention, in his underwear, while Cannon rattled off his new list of duties. Em thought that chow runner sounded rather simple. All Corby had to do was stand in line for the chow hall. He would stand in line in place of the whole flight. (“Flight” was the new designation for a formation of fifty airmen.) When their flight was ready for meals, Corby was to leave the flight and make his was to the chow hall and reserve their flight’s spot. Em noticed that Corby looked like he was starting to relax. After all, it sounded like a rather simple duty. Em did not understand that new recruits trying to cross an air base unsupervised drew attention. Daily confrontations would confront Corby as long as he held this prestigious position.

Em thought that Sergeant Cannon had really lost his mind when he yelled one more time. “I think we better get started on that training! Never know when I’ll get hungry!” Sergeant Cannon sent Corby, in his underwear, to the chow hall to see if it was open. Corby sprinted out the door like a rabbit. Em remembered how cold it was. Springtime in Texas produced some cold nights. Before Cannon had a chance to finish his next rant, Corby burst back into the room. He slid to a halt and started to open his mouth. Cannon stopped him and screamed, “Cookie! I don’t think that was fast enough! See if you can make it a little quicker this time. Go!”

Corby jumped backward and was out the door in a wink. Cannon turned and faced the rest of them. “Who wants to be his assistant?” Needless to say, all eyes went straight to the floor. There would be no volunteers to be Corby’s friend. Before Cannon could say another word, Corby was back and covered with sweat. Sergeant Cannon just told him to remain at attention at the door. He forced a laugh when he said, “I might get hungry, Cookie. You just be ready to go.”

Cannon assigned several other duties. It seemed that Cannon thought that squad leaders were the most important even though they had the fewest duties. He picked the biggest and strongest-looking guys for the four squad leaders. Six “lucky” guys received latrine duty. Several moans were heard in the room, and Sergeant Cannon just smiled. These guys thought they had just gotten the worst job possible. The latrine was expected to be in “inspection order,” twenty-four hours a day. No one volunteered for anything. Em found himself on the laundry crew. He had even secured the coveted “leader” position. He was ultimately responsible for the laundry. The other three on his crew were to be his responsibility. The four of them as a group were responsible for cleaning fifty sets of fatigues and all towels, socks, underwear, and anything else washable. Each day, they would be dismissed from the rest of their flight. For two hours, they would have the laundry room to themselves. They had to wash, dry, and deliver all the laundry. Once in the barracks, they were only expected to deposit the laundry in the room next to Cannon’s office, which they now referred to as the dayroom. Each personal item was stenciled with an initial and four numbers. Each airman was assigned their own identification numbers.

Laundry chief turned out to be the best job to have. Every day at exactly three o’clock in the afternoon, no matter what they were doing or where they were, Em and his crew were dismissed as a foursome to return to their barracks and get this job done. Two hours and twenty minutes of every day was devoted to this task. Em was happy when Jackson Turner was assigned one of the positions on his crew.

After the fifth day of laundry duty, Em and his crew were the envy of the rest of the flight. Everyone soon found that two hours’ break from Sergeant Cannon every day was like summer break from school, but on a daily basis. Em found the two hours in the laundry room was like a reprieve from being in the military. He and Jackson were becoming friends. They had a lot of time to talk while waiting on the laundry. He found out that Jack had lived in Florida his entire life. He also had left a girl back home. Her name was Carolyn Kammerer. Her hair was pitch-black, and her eyes were as green as ivy.

They talked about their girls every day. Jack said that Em seemed a little more serious about the long-distance relationship than he was. They talked about all the other guys in their flight. They talked about the war, but mostly, they talked about what was going on around them. Both of them felt that Cannon was being unfair to Corby. He was relentless in his pursuit of him. Cannon searched him out every time he approached their flight. Em was repeatedly astonished at the way Corby handled these situations. Five days ago, in the dayroom, Cannon had kept him running back and forth to the chow hall for over an hour. Corby’s underwear was drenched in sweat by the time he was permitted to go to bed. Even after lights out that night, Corby did not complain.

In one week, Corby had been rung through the wringer, not only by Cannon but by every other sergeant in the squadron. Daily in the chow hall line, he was screamed at by at least three of the instructors. It was as if Cannon had requested special attention just for Corby. Em told Jack about his and Corby’s friendship. Jack thought it was peculiar that the two of them were friends. He said that the two of them seemed so different; it was difficult to see how they could be so close. He also observed that since they had been here, he had scarcely seen the two of them speak to each other. Em found this incredulous at first, until he realized it was true. He and Corby had spoken, just not longer than a minute or two at a time. Corby spent every one of his free moments with his new friend Larry. Em assumed that was because Larry had inadvertently become Corby’s apprentice chow runner. Somehow, Corby had taken on a new role of looking out for the underdog but, in doing so, had drawn more unwanted attention to Larry; hence, Larry becoming apprentice chow runner number 1.

Jack and Em were both very good with numbers. They found this out about each other while doing the laundry every day. By the end of the first week, they had both learned the ID numbers of over half of the flight. They had even started placing items on the bunks with the corresponding numbers. Every single piece of clothing, including the washcloth, had an ID stenciled on it. He and Jack had made a competition of it, seeing who could take the smallest amount to be dumped in the dayroom to be sorted. The other guys started to thank them for this. The ones with items on their bunks were naturally pleased. The ones whose clothes were in the dayroom appreciated that the pile was much smaller.

By the end of the tenth day, they had memorized everyone’s ID, or at least the last four digits of the number. They played games in the laundry room, seeing who could name as many of the fifty as they could in the smallest amount of time. Next, they would try to put them in numerical order. Soon, everyone’s laundry was placed on his own bunk, every day. Jack and Em figured out that if you took what you were wearing, placed it in the laundry bag, and wore the freshly cleaned ones from the previous day, you never had to bother your clothing drawer. Once your footlocker passed inspection, you only needed to keep the dust off. They tried to explain this to everyone else. Yet they continuously watched the rest of them wasting precious free time pressing clothes. Each item in the clothing drawer had to adhere to a six-inch rule. Towels were to be pressed also, in six-inch squares. The same was true for washcloths, underwear, socks, T-shirts, and handkerchiefs. The only items larger than six inches were the fatigues, but they all had to be pressed also. All four sets in Em’s drawer were stacked in a four-inch pile. His drawer was perfect, and as long as he wore the previous day’s clothes, he should never have to disturb the drawer again. This worked. He had proven it for well over a week now. Yet somehow, the pressing and folding continued each night.

Em began to use this time to write to Irene. He had been writing in the laundry room each day, but he and Jack had been goofing off so much lately he had been less faithful in his writing. He tried to write something every day. Since each day was a carbon copy of the one before, it was getting more difficult. It was easier to write at night. While lying in his bunk, listening to the chaos around him, he wrote about the conversations that took place around him. When he was finally permitted to mail his letter to Irene, he thought that she would think him mad. Tomorrow was day 14, and that meant mail. Two weeks did not sound like such a long time. When it stretched into 336 hours of agonizing repetitiveness, it seemed much longer. Now Em estimated that it was less than twelve hours until he heard from Irene. He still thought about her continuously. He closed his eyes and immediately thought of the white dress. He could see her standing at the train station with her right hand above her brow and her left one resting on her hip. She was smiling. With this picture in his head, he drifted off to sleep.

The next day started in exactly the same way as the previous twelve, though there was a sense of anticipation in the air. Everyone was aware of day 14. Em did not think anyone wanted mail more than he did. He thought of Irene with every breath he took. It felt as though he had been gone for six months. In the past few days, he began to worry about Irene at home. Would she be thinking of him as much as he thought of her? He desperately hoped that her letters would reassure him of her devotion. When would they get mail? Would it be in the morning? Maybe before breakfast, Em thought. He was consumed with only thoughts of mail.

Once again, he found himself dressed and ready to fall out before any of his fellow airmen. He walked toward Corby’s bunk so he could talk with him before he had to leave for chow runner duties. Corby was nowhere to be found. Everything seemed to be in order with his bunk and locker. Maybe he is already outside, Em thought. That would be different. Em chuckled out loud when he thought about a responsible Corby. “Responsibility” was one word you never associated with Corby Cook. Em recalled when they were ten years old. Corby had caught a rabbit, and he wanted to keep it as a pet. He spent an entire day building a pen. He was so proud when he showed it to Em. The rabbit was going to have the finest home a rabbit ever had. He faithfully cared for the rabbit—which he had, of course, named Hoppy—for about two weeks. When Em asked him about it one day, Corby told him he let it go. Em later found out that Corby had let it starve to death inside the pen he had built.

Em picked up his battle pack, slung it over his shoulder, and proceeded to exit the barracks. When he got outside, he was astonished to see Corby already in formation, standing at attention. There were only ten guys outside. Corby was the sharpest-looking one. His boots almost glowed in the early predawn. His fatigues were as if pressed and starched while he was wearing them. He looked like the poster that had enticed them to join the air corps. “Well, I’ll say, Cookie,” Em used Sergeant Cannon’s nickname for Corby, “you sure are looking sharp.”

“Please join ranks and stand at attention,” Corby said this without even looking at Em.

Em felt hurt at first, but as he made his way to his place in formation, he noticed the two sergeants over by the corner of the building. He knew then that Corby was just trying to avoid any confrontations. As soon as they were formed up in ranks, they were marched directly to the chow hall where they were first in line. After a full seven minutes to eat, they were back outside and formed up again. This time, Cannon led them in a new direction. They had not seen very much of their new home, so going in a new direction made Em forget momentarily about mail.

Sergeant Cannon led them at a leisurely pace. Not one of them knew where they were going. What happened next truly surprised everyone in the flight. Cannon angled his stride until he was shoulder to shoulder with Corby. He marched in this way for two or three hundred yards and then abruptly disappeared from Em’s view as he began to march in place. Corby then stepped out of ranks and took the position normally occupied by Cannon. He then began to call cadence in a loud clear voice. Em grinned. He could not explain in completely, but he felt pride. Corby had come a long way in two short weeks. Em thought he even looked taller. Cannon must have told Corby where they were going because Corby bellowed in a voice that Em had never heard. He thundered, “Hut, two, three, four!” over and over again. He led them for about five minutes before he bellowed, “Flight…halt!” Corby stood in front of the flight and directed each column to designated areas that had been marked in orange paint on the ground. He ordered them to remain at attention and wait for further instructions.

Em was in column 4, so he knew he would receive instructions last. They stood at attention for quite a while. Em watched Corby the entire time. Cannon pulled him to the side once again and spoke to him alone. Em noticed the look on Cannon’s face. It was not the same look that Em had learned to tolerate. He spoke to Corby as was speaking to an equal. Could Corby have matured so much that Cannon now thought of him as a leader? Was this some elaborate scheme to humiliate him once more?

Em continued to watch as Corby went to column 1 while Cannon began with column 2. Momentarily, Corby went to column 3. Em saw a few of the guys begin to ask Corby questions. They would not dare speak to Sergeant Cannon that way, Em thought. Corby politely reminded them that they were still at attention. It was amazing to see how fast all heads snapped to the position of attention. Corby was not interrupted again.

“All right, you maggots, your turn!” Cannon had arrived in front of them. Not having seen him coming, several heads snapped to the left awfully quick. “What the devil are you looking at, son? Nobody told you to gawk around like some kind of turtle! Atten-hut!”

How had this happened? Em stared straight ahead. Cannon kept screaming, but he did not seem to be saying anything. Em didn’t really hear him anymore. He was staring straight ahead. The only thing in his field of vision was Corby. He stood in front of column 1 and stared straight back at Em. They stood this way, without moving an eyeball the entire time that Cannon lost his temper. Em could not quite understand what was going on. Somehow, his quiet existence here at Camp Cannon had turned into something resembling his worst nightmare. He refused to think that it was even possible for Corby to be where he was right now and himself to be the new target. It just could not be happening.

He continued to stare at Corby as he heard Cannon scream something about his sister being his mother. Corby didn’t even crack a smile. He heard other snickers from several different places. Usually, this enraged Cannon. This time was no exception. Only this time, he turned all the anger toward Em.

“What in the world is your name anyhow, son?” Cannon was staring directly into Em’s eyes. Em thought that his luck had indeed officially run out. He had managed to stay anonymous for over two weeks. He had begun to think this training was going to be as easy as riding a bike.

“Story, Emory, sir,” Em replied back almost automatically. He had also begun to think of himself as Story, Emory, 2876.

Cannon began to lose the redness in his forehead. Em knew by now that this meant he was calming down. He had seen him throw so many tantrums that had been aimed at Corby that he was beginning to notice the subtle changes in voice that accompanied the normal color returning to his skin. Now that the tantrum was over, Cannon decided that he was going to let Em lead his group in their upcoming task. He began to tell them about the obstacle course and the rules they must follow. All members of each group must cross the finish line. No one could be left behind. Each group of twelve men must finish with their team. The only catch was that one of them had to cross the finish line as clean as when he started.

That shouldn’t be so hard, Em thought. We have eleven others to carry one man. As long as we work as a team, it should not be entirely difficult.

The surprise that awaited them just across the flight line was the muddiest obstacle course any one of them had ever seen. Just to reach the first wall, they had to make their way through what looked to be a very deep mud pit. The only real rules were that every man had to go over every wall and one man was to remain clean. Em immediately chose Koval to be his “clean one.” His group was in luck because Koval was the smallest man in formation. Two groups had thirteen men, so his team had another advantage. Em looked at Corby’s group and saw that he organized his team into two separate teams, one group responsible for carrying the load and the other group for keeping it clean. Em copied his friend. Before he was quite satisfied with his choices, Cannon roared, “Teams to the starting line!”

As soon as the starting gun was fired, all four teams hoisted their cargo onto their collective shoulders. Em stayed in front of his group, trying to ensure that everything went the way they had hastily planned. He held his arms high over his head to keep them clean in case he had to lift. He told everyone else to do the same. He entered the first mud pit. He estimated it to be twenty-five feet across. The first two carriers stepped in after him. As Em walked backward in the mud, trying to assess the situation, it soon reached his knees. Morris was holding Koval’s head and shoulders, and Hamilton had his torso. Jack had one leg, and Smith had the other. The rest of Em’s team surrounded these four, ready for any impending disaster. When Morris’s foot became lodged in the mud, he dropped Koval’s head. Before any of the emergency team had a chance to assist, Jack was under Koval and supported most of his weight. They did not resume moving until reinforcements supported Koval. Very carefully, they proceeded, no one moving forward unless everyone had lifted his foot first. Em saw Corby’s team beginning to climb out of the pit. Two members of team were already scaling the first six-foot wall.

When McAtee, who had replaced Morris, holding Koval’s head, reached the point where he had to climb, he lost control of Koval’s head. Em made a mental note to himself: biggest would not necessarily mean strongest. Jack, in an instant, supported Koval’s entire weight. He held Koval on his shoulders as Hamilton climbed out of the pit. The other team members lifted Koval from Jack’s shoulders and raised him above their heads. Em noticed three of his team members already had muddy hands. They were desperately trying to find a place on their fatigues to wipe their hands. Em told them to stay out of the way unless they were needed.

As soon as Em’s first two were over the wall, he noticed Corby’s last man going over. He hadn’t had time to see how they managed to get their cargo over. The other two teams were dead even with Em and his team. The three lagging teams were trying to figure out how to accomplish their new obstacle. Jack took over from there.

Em stood at the bottom of the wall and watched as Jack pulled Koval to the top. There he sat until the rest of them made it over. Once all twelve were on the other side and Koval was back over their heads, they proceeded to the next obstacle. In front of them were two bridges, spanning over another mud pit. This one looked a little larger than the first. One bridge was covered in mud where Corby’s team had crossed. The other was clean if they could reach it first. Both bridges were about six feet above the pit.

Jack stepped up again. “We have to go over the one on the right; this one is all muddy,” he said. The first thing they did was set Koval onto the bridge. This was accomplished with little effort. Now Koval had to walk across without falling off. This would prove to be rather nerve-racking because the span was a mere four-inches wide. Em sent two of his men into the pit so that Koval would have something to use as support in case he faltered. Koval stepped onto the span and immediately began to wobble. His arms were dancing around as if they had minds of their own. He took a step forward and righted himself. Em told him to slow down and be careful. Once on the other side, he had to stand on a small platform to let three men pass him. These men climbed down and hoisted Koval into the air once more. Em was the last of his team to cross. He had to wonder how the other teams were going to cross the muddy beams. He never looked back. He had to catch up to Corby’s team. He made a quick survey of his team. The only ones who were somewhat clean were Jack, Hamilton, Smith, and himself. Everyone else looked as if they had had a mud fight.

Next, they had to make their way through a rope maze. In some places, they had to support Koval only inches from the ground. Jack had proven to be worth his weight in hold. He continued to support most of Koval’s weight alone. His team seemed to be working well, but Em saw Corby’s team finishing the rope maze. He knew he would have to push his team if they were going to catch up. Em climbed through rope after rope, holding the ropes so they would not touch Koval. The ropes had been coated with creosote to keep them from rotting. If the ropes were touched in any way, they left stains on the clothes.

When they crawled through the last set of ropes and stood on the other side, they decided to take another survey. Jack, Smith, and Hamilton put Koval down on a tree stump and examined him. So far, he had remained unscathed. The three of them only remained clean from the waist up. Em was relatively clean above his knees. Em thought that the most critical part of the course was surely ahead of them, so he had everyone wipe their hands on the grass. Em looked ahead to see where Corby’s team was. Only half of his team had completed the next obstacle. Em felt for sure that his team still had time to overtake them.

The next obstacle was over two hundred yards away. Em could see the last of Corby’s team starting to propel themselves onto the wall. He wondered why they had not gotten over it yet. Once his team got closer, he understood what the problem was. The wall was at least ten or twelve feet high. As they approached, Em had Jack maneuver Koval so he sat on Smith’s shoulders with his feet resting on Hamilton’s shoulders, keeping his feet from the muddy fatigues. Jack told Em to get on someone’s shoulders and climb to the top of the wall. From there, he could assist everyone else up. One by one, they ascended the wall. Em looked at the other wall and saw Corby’s team trying to lower their cargo to the other side. They were definitely catching up. He rallied his men to go faster, and when they lowered Koval on the other side, Em saw that they were almost even with Corby and his team. If they made no mistakes from here on, they should be able to pull ahead. Em continued to walk behind Jack and Smith. Jack had stepped up the pace a little. The next obstacle was still not in sight. The hill in front of them was obstacle enough. It was at least a quarter of a mile to the top. If they continued their pace, they would overtake Corby’s team before they reached the top.

The front seven on Em’s team disappeared from his view as they made their way over the crest of the hill. Jack and Smith soon reached the top. Koval started to complain. Jack told him to shut his piehole. Em saw that Koval had no intention of speaking again. Their team had finally overtaken Corby’s team. Em could see them right behind and still looking strong. Any good feelings he had disappeared as soon as he saw their next obstacle. Directly in front of him, in the middle of the path, were two small towers made of wood. There were pulleys and cables attached at the top. The cables descended to the bottom of the hill, which looked to be over two or three hundred feet. At the bottom, he saw yet another mud pit. This one was the mother of all mud pits. It looked as if the cable descended directly into the pit. On the bottom of each tower were simple instructions: cargo must descend by cable.

Rather simple, he thought. They unloaded Koval onto tower 1. He climbed to the top and strapped himself into the harness. Em and Jack climbed up to help. “Koval, don’t do anything stupid! Just wait and take your time. Remember, if there’s any mud whatsoever, this will have all been for nothing.” Em felt like there had to be a way to descend slowly and carefully. He looked all around him. Koval’s harness, a two-foot cable with two metal loops, was the only thing on the tower. Only one person could descend by cable. The cable looked as though it remained close to the ground all the way down the hill, but Em knew that looks could be deceiving. The tower itself was over twenty feet tall. The cable was suspended a good distance from the ground. The incline was not too great. Em knew that Koval would descend rapidly. He sent his men ahead in teams of two to the three lowest points along the cable’s route. He told them to sit atop of each other’s shoulders and attempt to slow Koval down as he made his way past them. Em was pleased when he saw Corby order his team to do the same. He then saw Corby running to the bottom of the hill. There he directed two of his men into the pit to catch the cargo. Em knew he had to get two of his men into the pit. He descended the tower and ran toward the bottom of the hill. He was barely halfway when he heard Jack yell, “Here he comes!” Em ran faster. He knew he had to be in the pit to stop Koval. He reached the bottom and quickly jumped into the mud. Hamilton and Smith jumped in with him. Now he had to wait on the cargo. He looked over at Corby just as he was looking back. At first, their looks were intense. Then they both smiled. After all, this was kind of fun. What had started as a fierce competition now seemed unimportant. Em knew by the look on Corby’s face that they were going to be all right.

Em looked up the hill as both of their cargos began to pick up speed. As they reached the halfway point, they were neck and neck. It was going to come down to who was the cleanest. All of a sudden, both riders began to get closer. Em heard Corby screaming to his team to let him go and not to slow him down. Em quickly yelled to his team, “Slow him down! Keep him clean! Slow and easy!” Em jumped out of the pit so he could catch Koval before he got too close. Morris and Smith were grabbing at Koval’s feet as he passed them. When Koval sped past them, Morris was knocked off his feet. He slid twenty feet, down the hill. Smith managed to grab Koval’s head, slowing him down minimally.

Corby’s cargo was coming down fast! Corby now stood on the ground next to the pit and was going to try and stop his cargo by himself. Every other member of his team looked as if they had purposefully camouflaged themselves with mud. Em turned in time to see Corby get hit. His cargo was going too fast. Corby was knocked off his feet. He flew backward into the pit, sending mud flying everywhere. Wilson, Corby’s cargo, clung to the cable. He was halfway out of the harness but still moving rapidly toward the cable’s end. He hit the end of the cable with a thud, held on for a fraction of a second, and then fell into the mud beside Corby.

Em was transfixed. He almost forgot where he was. He wanted to laugh along with the half of a dozen other wailers that he heard, but he knew he had one shot to make this work. He jumped into the air and grabbed the cable. As quickly as he could, he swung his feet over the cable. He knew he would have to let Koval hit him right in the head. It was basically the only clean part of his anatomy that was readily available. He desperately hoped that they had slowed him down enough. Em closed his eyes and tried to prepare himself for the impact.

He counted. One…two…three…four…five…six. Bam! Lights out!

He felt himself being grabbed. Hands were touching him all over. He raised his hands to wipe the mud from his face. He opened his mud-caked eyes and saw the blurry image of Jack. He was smiling. “You did it, hillbilly. Are you okay?” Other than being muddy, Em did not seem to suffer any other consequences. His hands were fine, and so was his head. There was just a dull throbbing in his temples. He looked around for Koval. There he was, twenty feet beyond the pit, standing alone on top of a wooden pedestal. From where Em stood, he looked to have remained clean.

The rest of the morning turned out to be the beginning of the best day since their arrival. Sergeant Cannon let them all sit and relax for almost an hour. He even arranged for them all to have a Coca-Cola. To Em, it tasted like the best drink ever made. He drank it slowly as he sat with Corby, Larry, and Jack.

“I’ve got to hand it to you, Em. That was quick thinking. But it’s a wonder you’re able to think at all, considering Koval knocked you out.” Corby was smiling. “Are you sure you’re all right?” He tried to wipe the smile from his face. A glob of mud fell off his ear, and the laughter was contagious.

Corby told Em how he had seen him flip head over heels and land in the mud pit. He could not stop laughing now that he knew Em was not hurt. “And then”—he chuckled—“he landed.” He chuckled again. “And still curled up…in a little bitty ball…headfirst…Splat!” He laughed so much that it spread to other groups.

All four of them laughed so hard they began to roll on the ground. The mud started to dry on their clothes. Em began to wonder how he was going to get all these clothes clean. When he voiced his concerns to the others, it started a whole new laugh festival. Corby even suggested that instead of calling Cannon “Mom,” maybe they should call Em “Mom.”

None of them could believe that they were actually having a good time. Today was already a great day, and it was not even lunchtime yet. When Em thought about the time, he realized he was kind of hungry. He hoped that Cannon would be screaming for his chow runners soon. When Corby saw Cannon approaching their group, he instinctively got up and straightened his uniform.

“Relax, Cookie.” Cannon squatted down to their level. “Good job out there, boys. Saw some excellent skills. Good teamwork too.”

Whoa, Em thought, actual praise.

Then as if Cannon hadn’t even said what he had just said, a look came over his face as he began to scream once more. “Where’s my chow runners?” he bellowed. Em was certain that Cannon knew exactly where they were. Yet he had a reputation to uphold.

After Corby and Larry began to double-time it to the chow hall, Cannon ordered Em to form up the flight. Em wondered if this was his “reward” for doing a good job. He quickly realized that the praise they had just received was for their ears only. When it came to where their little group stood with Cannon, absolutely nothing had changed. He had no intention of letting up on any of them.

As Em marched alongside the flight, he kept thinking of the feelings he had been having lately concerning Corby. He had briefly been envious of Corby. He could not quite come to terms with these emotions. Was he envious now that Corby was beginning to become a leader himself? Corby had always depended on Em. That’s just the way things were, according to Em. Now that Corby was showing some independence, Em realized he needed Corby to depend on him. It made him feel useful. After all, Corby had been leaning on him for most of their lives. Em did not know how it would feel to not have Corby around.

He marched the flight onto the tarmac in front of the chow hall. “flight! Halt!” he bellowed over the sound of a plane taking off. His eyes immediately found Corby and Larry. They were the last ones in the chow runner line. Two sergeants stood in front of them. Both of them had veins bulging from their temples. Em was no longer envious of Corby. He could not imagine having to put up with such abuse on a daily basis. Em felt a sense of pride in the way that Corby was handling his new popularity. Larry had learned how to deal with it also.

Em saw Jack snickering when he looked at Corby and Larry. Then he looked at Em and laughed out loud, narrowly avoiding drawing unwanted attention. Em could not help but smile himself. He thought that the four of them were going to become like the picture on the recruitment poster. Make lifelong friends, the poster said.

By design, their flight was the last flight through the chow hall. Whatever mud that had not dried while they marched around now dried and fell off onto the floor. Cannon gave them ample time to eat, which was unusual. Em sat at the table with Larry, Jack, and Corby. None of them cared that they were covered with drying, cracking mud. Their appetites were strong. They also did not speak until most of the food was gone.

“That really was quick thinking back there, Em,” Jack said as he stuffed carrots into his mouth. “I thought all that work was for nothing.”

“Thanks, Jack.” Em was chewing the last bites of the spongy meat product. “But if it weren’t for Corby and his team beating us to the end, it would have never worked because I would have been knocked into the pit.”

Corby just smiled and said, “Glad I could help, boys.” He looked at Em and said, “I really am glad you did it, Em. We needed to show Cannon, at least once, that we’re not the stupid hillbillies he thinks we are.”

“I don’t think you’re a hillbilly, son! I know you are!” Jack said in his most impressive imitation of Cannon. The laughter flowed easily again. They talked for over five minutes, which felt like a very long time, before they were ordered outside once more.

The afternoons were starting to heat up in Texas, and several airmen that had eaten too much had to fall out of ranks to throw up. Cannon only halted the flight and waited on them to return. He even let the rest of them stand at ease while they waited. Cannon led them through the residential part of the base. Em saw lots of women but very few men.

After a long hour of marching, Cannon halted them in front of the base theater. When they were told to form a single-file line, it was done quietly. They watched newsreel from the war, and lots of it was shocking to Em. The war was raging all over the world. The fun that he had been having was quickly replaced by images of war.

Cannon marched them in the opposite direction of the barracks when they left the theater. He let Em and his laundry crew head back to shower and prepare for the double laundry day. Em had to dress in a clean uniform. He was not happy about pulling it from his inspection-ready locker. He stuffed his dirty fatigues into his laundry bag. He put his writing pad in with them. One hundred sets of fatigues would keep them in the laundry room for at least an additional hour and a half. He should have plenty of time to write to Irene. Bam! He remembered it was day 14. Mail! He quickly went to the dayroom to see if there was a small bag. He looked through the glass in the door and saw an empty room. He thought about checking Cannon’s office, but the noise erupting from the stairwell halted him. The rest of the flight had arrived.

Cannon followed them in and went straight to his quarters. He immediately came out with a large duffel bag. Stenciled on the side was US mail. He called for the laundry crew and sent them into the dayroom to sort it. They dumped the contents of the bag onto the floor. Several small packages fell out, along with at least two hundred letters. All Em wanted to do was find the ones with his own name on them and tear them open and read them that second. They began to make piles in an alphabetical order. It did not take long before each of them found an envelope with their own name on it. Em and Jack held their envelopes and looked at each other. Their silence did not hide what they were thinking. They wanted so badly to open them. Logic overruled their haste, and they continued their sorting. Soon, they were down to sorting each pile by name. The S pile was by far the largest. Em had counted at least a dozen addressed to him, most from Irene. He began to smile and soon realized he could not stop. Cannon came in and told them to each get their own mail, gather the laundry, and get it done. They wasted no time. They gathered every set of clothes, all one hundred of them, and double-timed it to the laundry room. Before they filled the washers, each of them read one letter. Em had received the most by far. He counted twenty-two letters. Sixteen were from Irene. Three were from his mom, one from his dad, and one each from his two sisters. He opened one of Irene’s letters first. He had no way of knowing which one came first because the dates were not on the postmark. His small-town post office was behind the times. He opened the envelope carefully and was instantly overcome with emotion. He read:

My dearest Emory,

Six days and it feels as if you have been gone a lifetime. I know this is only the beginning and you are going to be gone for a long time. Never doubt that I will wait for you to come home to me. I don’t think I could live if I believed otherwise.

He read as fast as he could. He began to tear open another before he remembered about the one hundred sets of dirty fatigues. They were not as dirty as he had anticipated. Em realized that the obstacle course day had definitely been choreographed. They were last in line at chow hall, so they got to spend more time there. Also, the rest of the flight would undoubtedly clean the muddy mess they had left behind at the theater and the chow hall while Em and his crew finished the laundry.

Em spent the following three hours just as he wanted. He read some of Irene’s letters multiple times. He tried to answer every question she asked. The only one he could not answer was the one about what his job was going to be. He was going to have to wait a couple more weeks to find that out. He wrote he loved her for at least the tenth time and then counted the pages he needed to mail home. Irene would receive an entire notebook by the time Em was permitted to post his letters.

They finished the laundry. Jack and Em had perfected the routine, and now Summerkamp and McAtee were efficient at putting the laundry in delivery order. When they began to distribute it onto the bunks, they heard noise coming from the latrine. Em knew that was probably only the crew cleaning up after the shower bombardment that had just taken place. He guessed that the rest of the flight was cleaning the base theater. He looked up from the laundry and saw Corby coming his way.

“Hey, Storybook, did you hear from your sweetie? I did.” He held up a letter and grinned that stupid grin of his.

Em looked at the letter in Corby’s hands. He had to admit that the writing looked like Irene’s. He had just spent three hours reading and rereading her letters. He knew her handwriting. What was she doing writing to Corby? Em reached for the letter. Corby jumped back and began to dance around. He held the letter over his head and did what looked to be an Indian tribal dance. He chanted in what Em assumed to be his Indian voice. He was still just a skinny kid from Kentucky even though Em thought he could definitely see some definition in his arms.

Em thought, What the heck? I bet I can still take him. With that thought, he lunged forward and reached out to grab the letter. Corby stepped sideways, but Em was ready for that move. They had been wrestling each other since they were boys. Em knew all of Corby’s moves. They crashed to the floor, rolling over and over until they collided with the legs of one of the bunks. Em grabbed Corby’s arm that held the letter and twisted it behind his back. They were both laughing like idiots. Corby would not let go of the letter.

Their ruckus had attracted attention. A few of the guys had gathered around and were cheering them on. As Em was trying the get the letter, Corby was trying to hand it off to Larry. Once the letter had traded hands, it took Jack one leap. He pinned Larry to the wall. He retrieved the letter and let loose of Larry. As he turned toward Em and Corby, he noticed that no one was smiling anymore.

Em looked at Jack as if he were on fire or something. “What the heck was that about?” Em took the letter out of Jack’s hand and just held it. He kept looking at Jack as though he had never seen him before. Just as he was about to say something, Larry charged at Jack’s back and shoved him into Em. Em instinctively shoved back, and then it really got ugly. Larry was blindly swinging his fists and kicking at Jack. Jack dodged the wild swings easily. He maneuvered himself behind Larry. In one blindingly fast move, he had Larry on his knees and in a headlock. Once again, Em stared at Jack incredulously. Before it could go any further, the familiar sounds of Cannon’s boots came from around the corner.

“Turner, release him at once! You, Daniels, Cook, and Story, in my office!”

Em had never seen him this upset. Why he wanted him and Corby in the office along with Larry and Jack, Em could not quite figure out. He didn’t think Cannon had seen the earlier skirmish, but he supposed they both probably looked flushed and guilty. His fatigues were in complete disarray also. His shirt was only tucked on one side, and he still felt his ears. They were hot from the wrestling. Cannon was no rocket scientist, but in this case, he didn’t have to be.

He didn’t say anything at first. He just paced back and forth in front of the four of them. They stood in a row, all perfectly still, staring straight ahead. The longer he paced, the more his face grew red. Just when Em thought that he must either scream or explode, he calmly sat down in the chair behind his desk. He pushed himself backward, and the chair rolled a couple of feet to a filing cabinet. He turned toward it and opened the bottom drawer. He reached inside and brought out a stack of manila envelopes. He wheeled himself back to his desk, in a move that was perfectly timed. He was facing them as he came to a stop. “You know what I have here, girls?”

None of them moved. Em thought, Please, Corb, keep your mouth shut.

As if on cue, Corby cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

“Keep it shut, Cookie. I like it that way.” Cannon stared at him.

Em could see the lump in Corby’s throat when he swallowed. He also saw the sweat as it dripped off his forehead. Em quickly brought his eyes back to the front when he felt Cannon’s stare. And sure enough, Cannon was now staring at him. Why, oh, why hadn’t he continued to stare forward? Jack stood motionless the entire time.

“You, Storybook, I expected more from you.” Cannon reached down and sorted through the envelopes.

Em just knew they were all going to be recycled. He knew that it was up to Cannon to decide who could be sent back two weeks to join another flight. To have to go back and complete the first two weeks of training was not an option. Em decided then and there that he would do anything to keep that from happening. “Sergeant Cannon, this is all my fault, you see…”

“Shut your mouth, Story! When I want you to talk, I’ll tell you what I want you to say! Until then, keep it shut!”

“Yes, Sergeant.” Em felt his own lump as it descended down his throat.

“Here it is.” Cannon held the envelope. Em saw his name typed on a tag that had been placed in the slot on the front of it. Cannon opened it and pulled a small stack of papers from it. “Story, you have shown some skills over the past two weeks. I’ve noticed the way you seem to have mastered this whole operation. I never seem to see you working, but you always have everything in inspection order. I’ve also noticed some leadership qualities; however, what happened in there tonight was completely inexcusable. I will never accept that behavior from anyone. You fellas are here to be trained for war. In case you haven’t heard, we have one of them going on now.” Em continued to look him right in the eye.

Cannon took a deep breath and sighed. “You, Turner, I thought you showed more leadership qualities than anyone I had seen in quite a while, but what I saw in there was a boy losing his temper a little too quickly. I don’t know what was going on in there, and I really have no intention of finding out. The only thing I saw was you trying to show off some muscle. I’ll trade a few with ya if ya want to. How about it?” Jack did not move. Em couldn’t tell if he was looking at Cannon or at the wall. Em focused on a wooden statue of an eagle that sat on the shelf behind Cannon’s desk. Its talons were squeezing a rabbit. It was painted as if it were real. The rabbit’s eyes bulged from its skull. Em felt just like that rabbit right now.

Cannon sat still again and made a show of looking through the papers he held in his hand. Em slowly moved his eyes to look at his three friends. Jack still stood at attention, staring straight ahead. Corby was still sweating profusely. Larry, however, had a look on his face of pure hatred. He was leering at Jack.

“What’s up with you, Daniels, you little pip-squeak? Wipe that look off of your face or I’ll knock it off.” Em noticed that Cannon said this with a look of amusement on his face. Larry didn’t say anything. He continued to stare at Jack. “I got a meeting tomorrow with a good friend of mine.” Cannon stared straight at Em now. “He asked me if I had a couple of go-getters with half a brain in their head.” Cannon now looked from Em to Jack. “I told him I might have a couple in mind.” He paused and pushed himself back from his desk. He stood up before he said, “This is important, boys, so don’t mess up again.”

Cannon walked to the door and opened it. He walked straight toward the latrine. He began to scream before he was even there. The latrine crew jumped immediately and double-timed it into the bathroom. When Cannon entered the latrine, the stall he chose had to be specially prepared. The crew had no clue which stall he would choose, so all six of them would scramble to prepare each stall to his specifications. By the time Cannon reached the door, four stalls were prepared, and the remaining two were finished before he reached the door to the first one. The crew had perfected this operation within the first week. They worked on the sinks for fifteen seconds before they cleared the area for an indefinite period of time.

Em and his three cohorts remained where they were. They did not know whether to leave or stay. To be safe, they decided to stay right where they were.

Larry spoke first, “You ever do that again, Turner, and I’ll kill you.” Jack did not say a word. He stood like a statue and continued to stare straight ahead.

Em decided to try and mend the fences. “Where did you learn those moves anyway?” he began. “Could you teach them to us?” He looked from Jack to Larry and realized he was not helping.

Larry even looked madder than before. He said, “If you hadn’t surprised me, I could have taken you.”

Jack finally moved but just slightly. He looked Larry right in the eye and said, “Oh yeah, pip-squeak, you tried that once. How did that turn out for you?” Em thought Larry was going to jump him again.

“Really, Jack? You could teach us those moves of yours. We could all learn something.” Em looked at Larry and added, “Larry, seriously, we could work on it. You got to admit, you wouldn’t mind knowing how he did that.” Em hoped he was getting through to him. He had to smooth things over for his and Corby’s sake. Jack and Larry were their best friends. They just simply had to get along. “How about it, Jack? What do you say?” Em looked at him and saw a look of satisfaction. Then it was gone as quick as it had come, replaced by the stare.

They heard the familiar sound of the latrine crew as they scrambled to stand at attention as Cannon exited the latrine. This too they had perfected down to the second. As it turned out, theirs was the best duty to have, next to laundry crew. Once they established their routine, they spent little time actually cleaning the latrine.

Cannon stopped and turned toward the barracks area. He looked at the pile of clothes on each bunk. He had never had anyone handle the laundry as effortlessly as Story and his crew. He had noticed this since they had first started doing it. He watched as Story and Turner had competed to see who could memorize the numbers the fastest. It had taken them no time at all. He thought the two of them would be exactly what Philip was looking for. He decided then and there to recommend them no matter what had taken place tonight. He remained standing where he was as he thought about how to handle the situation. He knew there was animosity among these four. He needed to force their situation and see how they handled themselves when given additional problems. He spun on his heels and headed straight for his office. “All right, girls, let’s get this little party going.” He slammed the door as he entered.

Em, Corby, Jack, and Larry spent the remainder of that night and most of the early morning hours finishing their new duties. Cannon created a whole new crew. The four of them would now perform their new duties along with their old duties on a daily basis. They were now the official pressing crew. They would have to iron all the uniforms they had laundered and place them in the correct footlocker. Em couldn’t believe it. He had only ironed clothes initially. Now he had to iron one hundred sets and then keep everything caught up daily. He also realized that there would be little time to write to Irene.

They worked until 3:50 p.m. Through the long night, Em had worked hard to force Larry and Jack to communicate. Reluctant at first, the two of them gradually began to show a little effort. They ironed and ironed until it began to drive them crazy. They laughed at things that were not funny. When they finished at last, Em felt that a breakthrough had been made. This was a very small breakthrough, but a breakthrough nevertheless. When they finally crawled into their bunks, Em drifted to sleep thinking of Irene.

For two weeks, Cannon drove them to the limit. Every part of their training was intensified. Em thought that the amount of time spent in the classroom was a waste of time. Four hours every day, they attended classes. Along with three hours of physical training and their daily duties, there was only thirty minutes of personal time. It was hard to get anything done. It had only taken Em and Jack about three days to train everyone on their clothing inspection lockers. Now everyone was living out of his laundry bag. They had all but eliminated the ironing. Jack and Larry were getting along most of the time. Corby was steadily gaining weight. His acne was almost gone. Em thought he looked five years older. With all their new flights coming in every day, theirs was becoming senior to most. Corby no longer was bombarded when he performed his chow runner duties. He was now his own boss. He was the only one in the flight permitted to wear a wristwatch. Fifteen minutes before each chow time, he would leave wherever they were. He and Larry would double-time it to the chow hall. In the mornings, he and Larry usually finished their routines before the rest of them had risen. By the time they had reached the lead of the chow runner line, the rest of them were just hearing reveille. Each of them was getting stronger by the day. They never had time to feel homesick. They were constantly on the move, from daylight to dark. They learned about military customs and procedures, but mostly, they discussed the war. Everyone wondered where he would end up and what he would be doing when he got there. No one’s job choice was secure. Each of them had chosen three possible career options. Very few of them expected to actually get those jobs. Em wanted to learn aircraft mechanics. He figured an airplane engine was probably a lot like a truck or a tractor engine. He knew a lot about them, so he should catch on to planes very quickly. Corby had also chosen mechanics. He and Em wanted to stay together. Choosing mechanics seemed to be a likely way to make sure that happened. Jack had actually applied to be a pilot. They were only accepting guys who were sixty-six to seventy inches tall. Jack was over six foot. They told him maybe after the war. He had chosen aircraft mechanics as well. He planned to learn everything he could about planes so he could pilot them after the war. He was very passionate about this. Larry had come in without a preference. He would accept whatever position he was assigned.

Each day was becoming a little more intense than the previous one. Two more weeks and they would be sent to another training base. Most of the air corps’ schools were in the continental United States. The majority of those were along the Gulf Coast. Em hoped that he would be on the coast since it was summertime. Springtime in Texas was as hot as he ever wanted to be. Em seemed to be the only one who assumed they would not find out about their jobs until a couple of days before basic training graduation. He only held a sliver of hope that he and Corby would stay together. If that did not happen, he really felt that Corby would be all right. He had watched Corby mature more in one month than many of the other guys. Em was certain that Corby could now adjust to any situation that was thrust upon him.

Cannon repeatedly gave the four of them an extra duty here and there. None of them ever complained. He had not said another word about the meeting. What he had in mind for Jack and Em, only he knew, and that his plan was for Jack and Em was unmistakable. He had looked only at the two of them when he mentioned the meeting. Whatever it turned out to be, Em hoped that Corby could go with him. He continued to receive letters from Irene every day. She had written to Corby at least three or four times. Em had read every one of them, including the infamous one. Irene had simply written as a friend. She told him in every letter to “take care of him.” She was really scared, more so than Em felt himself. Corby took her instructions to heart. He continuously assured Em that he was certain they would not be separated. Em did not share his certainty.

Em wrote to Irene at every opportunity that he was given. This included writing a daily journal of his activities. He sent her these accounts one or two pages at a time. Every time he wrote, he felt as though he was talking to her. He dreamed of her every night. She was always in the white dress, always smiling and always had her hand on her left hip. This awoke him every time he dreamed. He would spend what felt like an eternity trying to sleep again. Lying awake, staring out the small windows, he imagined that he was there with her, sitting, watching the sun set on the ridge where he planned to build their house. She would lean on his shoulder and bury her face in his neck. He could almost smell her hair. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the aroma that he remembered so well. He drifted into a dreamless sleep and was prepared to face day 29.

Day 29 started just as routinely as every other. Jack and Em finished making their bunks. It was amazing how fast they could tighten their bunks enough to bounce coins.

As they were finishing with their area, Cannon emerged from his office. He looked as sharp as he always did. All the guys joked about him sleeping standing at attention. His uniforms were always so crisp. He walked directly toward Em’s bunk. He pulled a coin from his pocket and bounced it on Em’s bunk. “Nice work, boys.” He told them that he was proud of the way they had handled themselves over the past two weeks. He said he had expected failure with all the extra pressure that was placed on them. He told them that his decision to recommend the two of them had solidified. His friend, Colonel Philip Roth, needed two recruits that he could depend on. He wanted two new recruits so he could train them in his own way. Cannon also told them that this was very important to him. Colonel Roth was an especially close friend of his. He would only recommend those who were honest, hardworking, and loyal. He felt assured that Jack and Em were just what Colonel Roth was looking for. He said that when it came time to do the laundry today, they were to have McAtee and Summerkamp take care of it. The two of them were to report to his office instead. Before he walked away, he leaned in close and said in almost a whisper, “Look sharp, you two. This is a great opportunity. Fourteen hundred hours sharp!”

Outside, before they were led to the chow hall, Jack whispered to Em, “What do you think, hillbilly? What’s this all about?”

“I have absolutely no idea,” Em whispered back.

“Who the hell is Colonel Roth?” Jack caught Morris, who was between him and Em, trying to make sense of their conversation. “What are you two talking about?” Morris asked.

“Shut up, Cornmeal.” Jack had a way of hitting someone where they lived. Morris was from Iowa and lived on a corn farm. To Jack, “cornmeal” was a very funny word. Now, everyone called Morris “Cornmeal.” Cornmeal didn’t ask any more questions.

As Jack and Em’s column filed into the door, Em caught Corby’s attention as he walked past him. “Sit at my table. I have to tell you something.”

Corby nodded slightly. He knew that any movement whatsoever and fifth week or not, he would be assaulted from every direction.

As Em finished his eggs and looked to the sausage and gravy, he saw Corby with his tray, walking toward him. He pushed aside the salt and pepper shakers to make room for Corby’s tray.

Corby was smiling. “Hold on, Em. I got something to tell you first. You won’t believe what Cannon wants me to do.”

Corby sat down and instantly began to inhale the piles of food on his plate. He ate whatever was scooped onto his spoon, never bothering to keep anything separate. Soon, he was scraping the plate. Em sat and stared. The forkful of sausage he was holding when Corby sat down, still in his hand. Corby’s entire meal was consumed in less than ninety seconds. He slowly chewed on the sausage as Corby funneled some milk down his throat.

“He came up to me and Larry in the chow runner line this morning. He took us aside and told us to report to the flight line, hanger 17 at fourteen hundred hours. You tell me, what does he want with us?” He stabbed a piece of sausage off Em’s plate and said, “Probably some new chow runner duty, huh?” Corby still had a thin white mustache. His eyes were alit with intensity. He was truly embracing his new life. He looked to have been reborn. “Now, what you got to top that?”

“Well, Cookie”—Em used the nickname that Cannon had given Corby—“you’re not the only one who has a meeting.” He waited on Corby to respond. Corby just looked at him and waited on him to continue. “Did he tell you and Larry to ‘look sharp’?”

“What are you talking about? I always look good.” Corby stood and carried his tray to the kitchen. “No. He just said for the two of us to show up and ask for Sergeant Houston.” Corby put his tray on the counter and turned to face Em. “Who is your meeting with?”

“All I know is to be in Cannon’s office at fourteen hundred hours. Don’t be late and look sharp!” Em replied.

“Just you and Jack?” Corby’s questions were only beginning.

“As far as I know,” Em replied once more. “Remember what he said in his office? His friend needed a couple of go-getters.” Em left out the part about needing brains in their heads. “Well, he said his friend’s name this morning. He told Jack and me that his friend was Colonel Philip Roth. I think our meeting is with him.”

“How do you know it’s not my meeting that is with Colonel Roth? I mean, I have to go to the flight line, and your meeting is in Cannon’s office. Maybe he just needs two new chow runners. You do have to look sharp in the chow runner line,” Corby said this as he walked through the doorway and assumed his place in formation. It was now only five thirty in the morning. They had a long morning to think about things.

They marched to the base hospital where they got in line behind their sister flight. (“Sister flight” is a term used to describe another flight that will graduate simultaneously.) Em knew there were vaccinations to receive. This was probably the beginning of them, he thought. The sergeants congregated in the foyer while the flights waited outside. They were at ease, so they were mulling around while they chatted.

“Em, I’ve been thinking about this. I’m pretty sure that once we leave here, we’re not gonna be together anymore. That’s okay though. I’m all right here. I think I’m supposed to be here!” Em could see that Corby really meant it. He had come so far from the scared little boy that he was just a few weeks ago. All he needed was a little push. As amazing as it was that Corby had triumphed, Em felt that maybe only Corby could have endured such punishment.

Em looked at his friend and said, “Corby, no matter where we go, and I’m not so sure it won’t be together, remember to stay on top of things, just like you are now. I have so much faith in you and your ability to make the best of any situation. This ensures me that everything will be fine, no matter where we end up. We have to take care of ourselves.” Em felt almost as if he were going to shed a tear. The feelings overwhelmed him, so he changed the subject.

“Ready for the needle?” he asked the entire group of half a dozen that surrounded him.

“How do you know it’s a needle?” Hamilton asked.

“What else could it be, Hambone?” Corby said this and punched Hamilton, hard in the upper arm. “And it’s gonna hurt…right here!”

Hamilton screamed and nursed the lump that grew instantly on the back of his arm. Everyone laughed as they backed up a step. None of them wanted to receive the next punch. They were led into the hospital hallway. They were now at attention, so no one was talking. Em could see a GI disappearing into the doorway at the end of the hallway. He heard no screams coming from inside the room. The rumors said that each one of them could receive up to twenty injections. How many diseases could there be in the world? Em thought. As he slowly inched forward, getting closer to the doorway, he thought he heard grunts from inside the room. Aside from the grunts, there was almost no noise at all. He knew that most of his flight was behind him. Jack was directly behind him, then Morris, then Smith. Em had no idea where Corby and Larry were. He assumed they were somewhere in the rear of formation. Corby did not like surprises. He avoided them whenever he suspected one would show up. When given a choice, he chose the end of the line.

Em finally arrived at the doorway. He leaned, ever so slightly, to get a look inside. The first thing he saw made his heart stop momentarily. Seated at a small table, ten feet away, sat one of the most beautiful girls he had ever seen, next to Irene, of course. It was also the first time he had seen a woman in over a month. He tried to stop himself, but he just could not stop staring at her. She was tall, he could tell even though she was seated. At that instant, she looked up from a stack of papers, and their eyes met. Em felt as though he was going to jump out of his skin. He backed up, just a bit, but stepped on Jack’s boots. The back of his head crashed into Jack’s nose. Jack almost laughed. He assumed that Em was getting scared of the needle. He was very careful not to attract unwanted attention. He remained at attention.

“Story, Emory, 2876!” Em heard Cannon’s voice coming from inside the room. Em had not heard him before now.

Em sat on a small bench that sat in front of the table. The girl was reading his nameplate. Wow! She wants to know my name, Em thought. She quickly looked away and sifted through the stack of papers in front of her. She retrieved one from somewhere near the bottom of the stack and placed it in front of her.

“Have you ever been vaccinated before?” Hers was the sweetest voice he had ever heard. It was the first time he heard the slow Texas drawl, unlike his and Corby’s accent, but definitely Southern and so much smoother. He stared back at her crystal blue eyes. Her golden hair sparkled. She was staring straight back at him.

“Wake up, hillbilly!” Cannon’s voice brought Em out of a deep trance.

“I’m sorry,” Em blurted.

“Have you ever been vaccinated before?” she repeated.

Em was vaguely aware of her asking the first time. “No, ma’am,” he finally managed to say.

She hurriedly flipped through the stack of papers, pausing to stamp one out of every few. “Please remove your shirt and proceed to the next station,” she spoke so slowly that Em felt momentarily helpless again. He wanted to stay here and listen to her sweet voice the rest of the morning.

Em got up and walked through the next doorway. He paused and turned to see Jack, smiling his most perfect smile, take his seat on the bench. Em could not believe what he saw next. Jack had already removed his shirt. He sat on the bench and flexed his muscles. His strong chest bounced. He boldly reached across the desk and took the girl’s hand in his. She was already blushing and pulled her hand back quickly. She repeated the words, “Have you ever been vaccinated before?” Em turned and walked through the doorway.

Once again, he was back in line. This time, however, they were not at attention. He was there only seconds before Jack came up behind him. “You freak show,” Em began. “Who are you trying to impress with those twigs?” Em was smiling. Jack was grinning back at him. “What are you grinning at?” Em asked him.

“I think she likes me.” Jack could hardly contain himself.

“What about green eyes back home?” Em jokingly asked him.

“Did you even see that goddess in there?” Jack asked.

“Well, that’s probably the last time you’ll ever see her,” Em replied.

“Don’t bet on it.” Jack grinned knowingly as he said this.

When they had received their third injection, Em noticed that Cannon had followed them from room to room. Em rubbed his already-sore arm. Thank goodness, it was only three vaccinations today, he thought. They were told to expect no more injections for approximately one week. Along with the injections, they had to drink a couple of vials of some nasty liquid. Then they were permitted to assemble outside the rear of the hospital.

Sitting in the only shady area, Jack and Em waited on the remainder of their flight. They could not stop talking about the blonde Texan inside the hospital. Jack said he would go through the line again just to get another look at her. Both airmen were rubbing their upper arms. They sat on the grass and lay back on the ground.

Em closed his eyes and began to think of home. It would be getting hot in Kentucky now. The first of June always brought rain. Along with the rain came the humidity. Kentucky was a rather-decent place to live, but the humidity was stifling. His father would be setting the tobacco now. He had no one but Em’s two sisters to help this year. They would pitch in as much as they could, but without him and Corby, the work would be almost insurmountable. As soon as he got his first pay, he was going to send it home. He wanted his father to hire some help. He desperately wanted to be there himself, but he felt torn between loyalty to his country and devotion to his aging father. In a letter from home, his dad assured him that everything was just fine. The weather had cooperated. He was sure he would finish before July. He repeatedly said in his letters not to worry about anything at home. He only wanted him to come home when the blasted war was over. Em read his letters every day. He knew that his dad was scared. He had been a young soldier in “the Big One.” He never wanted Em to enlist. He wanted him to remain in school. His dad said, “Let me take care of it, and you can stay here and take care of the farm.” Em lost his temper for only the third time in his life. The two of them had spent the entire harvest season avoiding each other. At such a hectic time of year, this took some great effort from both of them.

As Thanksgiving came and went, his dad knew that no matter what he said or did, Em was joining the military. Em realized this was when he began to grow up. They started to talk again before Christmas. Since then, he and his father had had the best conversations of their lives.

He felt a tug on his sleeve. He slapped at the hand and said, “Hands to yourself, Turner.” He slowly opened his eyes. Silhouetted against the sun stood a dark shape. Em gradually focused on the figure and bolted to a sitting position.

Cannon was squatting between him and Jack. “Listen up, you two,” he began. He told them that he was going to take the rest of the flight to the theater to watch some newsreel. He and Jack were to remain at the hospital and report to the lab. They would receive further instructions once they arrived inside. After they finished, they were to make their way to the chow hall. They were to eat and then get ready for their meeting. Once again, he reminded them to look sharp and not be late.

They waited in the lab for over an hour before they were instructed to strip to their underwear and wait again. They stood on a cold tile floor. They looked like a couple of scared baby chicks, which were looking for their mother.

“If I don’t find out what’s going on, and I mean real soon, I’m gonna have to kick someone’s ass,” Jack said through clenched teeth.

“Behave yourself,” Em told him. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

For more than an hour, they were put through physical tests. They had to lift weight over their heads, sometimes as much as 120 pounds. Jack had no trouble lifting any amount they asked of him. Em struggled slightly but managed to lift the weight. They had to breathe into inflatable rubber hoses. This proved to be the most difficult task. More than once, Em felt light-headed. They were asked to contort their bodies into different positions and hold the position for undetermined amounts of time.

As soon as they were both beginning to sweat, they were led into another room. An elderly woman with glasses suspended from the end of her nose gazed at them. Then she pointed to two chairs across the table from her. She had several empty vials and some needles in front of her. She spoke, and both of the airmen were startled. “Please place your right arm on the table, palms up.” Her voice was as if sandpaper were lodged in her throat.

“Excuse me, ma’am. What exactly is this for?” Em asked in the sweetest voice he possessed.

She picked up a needle, held it up in front of her, cocked her head back, and looked at it through her glasses. She squinted and looked down at Em’s arm. He suddenly felt like drawing his arm back. She picked up a clean cloth, dipped it in alcohol, and began to vigorously rub Em’s forearm. “We just want a little of your blood.” Her voice caused goose bumps to break out all over Em’s body. Now he was cold again. He wanted to put his clothes back on.

“What’s it for, ma’am?” Em instinctively asked her again.

“You boys must be going somewhere to need these physicals,” she croaked.

Jack and Em exchanged glances. What? They were both expressing the same idea. Neither of them spoke the remainder of the time blood was being drained from their veins.

She took five vials from each of them. They both felt dizzy. Next, they were given a cup of orange juice but were still not permitted to dress. A doctor entered the room and instructed them on their next task. He wanted each of them to squat and, while in the squatted position, walk to the far side of the room. When they reached the other side, they were to turn and waddle back.

“At least, no one is here to see this,” Jack said under his breath. Both of them felt rather foolish as they waddled their way across the floor. They began to laugh when they approached the wall. Each of them looked at the other. When eye contact was made, both erupted into fits of laughter. The doctor seemed unconcerned about the laughter. As long as they kept waddling, he seemed to ignore them altogether. When they tried to turn, it caused another hysterical fit. They each reached down to steady themselves.

“No, no, no. I need you to do this, and I need balance. Do it again.” Em didn’t even think the doctor had been watching them. As they were turning around again, feeling double foolish, they heard a door open. They both turned to look at the sound and instantly felt naked.

In through the door walked the goddess. She carried a tray filled with utensils of some type. She wore a simple yellow cotton dress with blue ribbon around her waist. She also had blue ribbons in her hair. The ribbons were the exact color of her eyes.

“Yes, Meredith. May I help you?” The doctor was uninfluenced by her beauty. She approached his desk and sat the tray on it. She acted as though she had not noticed Em and Jack. The two of them squatted in their underwear, motionless, on the other side of the room. She spoke quietly to the doctor for a moment and turned to leave. When she turned toward the door, Em saw her eyes focus on Jack. Then he thought he saw her smile. As quickly as the smile appeared, it disappeared, replaced by a look of embarrassment. “Excuse me.” Her face became crimson red as she hastily closed the door.

“She looked right at me,” Jack boasted.

“In your dreams, pretty boy,” Em retorted. “You’re squatting on the floor in your underwear. She probably wanted to laugh.”

“Why else did she come in here?” Jack asked as they waddled back across the room.

The doctor finally told them they could get dressed. Then he told them to wait in the reception area. “Hey, doc. Who is that girl?” Jack asked the doctor.

He looked up from his clipboard and said, “You mean Ms. Roth? Why? She only volunteers here. You boys would be best to leave her alone.” He put his pen in his pocket and turned to go.

The two of them marched side by side back to their barracks, carrying the files they had been given. As soon as they dropped them off in Cannon’s office, they could go and eat. It was only twelve thirty in the afternoon. They had plenty of time.

“That’s his daughter. I know it.” Jack remained obsessed with the girl. “Meredith Roth,” he kept repeating her name.

“For someone who is supposed to have a girl back home, you sure aren’t remembering her much.” Em poked his friend in the ribs with his elbow.

“Who’re you, my mother?” Jack grinned and said, “She wants Mr. Turner. She wants her Jackson.”

“Would you stop already? You heard the doc. We better keep clear of her, especially if she is Colonel Roth’s daughter. We don’t even know who Roth is and what he wants with us. We better concentrate on what’s gonna happen at two o’clock.” Em felt like he was the only one with a voice of reason.

“Would you stop acting like my mother already? Really, Em. You’d think you were forty years old or something. We don’t know what’s going to happen this afternoon, and there’s nothing we could do about it if we did. Why can’t you just appreciate the fact that the most beautiful girl on God’s green earth has fallen for your best friend?”

“You’re full of yourself, you know it?” Em knew in his heart that the girl had come into that room to look at Jack again. It was obvious when she looked across the room. Her eyes focused on Jack. Em had seen the redness rising in her cheeks as she made eye contact with Jack. The funny thing was, Em really didn’t care. He loved Irene more than anything. He felt no jealousy whatsoever.

Jack kept smiling as they made their way to the chow hall. The entire time they were eating, they contemplated on what exactly Cannon and Colonel Roth wanted with them. Jack continued to talk about Meredith and wondered aloud if she could really be Colonel Roth’s daughter.

“C’mon in, boys.” Cannon looked them over as they entered his office. It was one fifty-five in the afternoon. Em and Jack were quite nervous. “Relax. Colonel Roth won’t be here for a few minutes.”

They remained at attention but did manage to feel a bit more at ease.

“I said relax, boys. I need to talk to you. Sit down.” Cannon pointed to two chairs. They looked at each other as they sat down. Finally, they were thinking they were going to get some answers. Cannon began by talking about the war. He explained about how horrible the conditions were across most of the globe. They had heard all this before repeatedly. They were anxious to find out what was going to happen to them.

Cannon ended his update on the condition of the planet and leaned back in his chair. He raised his arms over his head and stretched. He took a deep breath and began again. “Boys, Colonel Roth is a very special friend of mine, and when I recommended the two of you to him, I felt very confident that you were exactly what he was looking for. He needs a couple of sharp recruits for a special task. He came to me because he needed someone he could train in his own way. He also needs your complete trust and loyalty. I picked the two of you for many different reasons. Jack, you’re strong, smart, and a good leader. And, Emory, you have shown such potential that I wonder why you shouldn’t be sent to officer candidate school. I’ve seen the two of you adapt to whatever I have thrown at you. The mathematical skills that both of you have are especially important. Philip assures me that you will be extremely happy about what he has in mind. I’ll tell you once again, before Colonel Roth arrives.” Here he paused, and a look of respect and maybe even adoration came over his face. “Colonel Roth is a very important man. You cannot let me down. He’s too important to me! I have complete faith in my decision.” He looked as though he were going to keep talking; however, he remained silent. Em wondered if he was waiting on them to say something. He could not begin to imagine what this man wanted with him and Jack. They were too young and inexperienced for whatever he had in mind. There had to be men more qualified than him and Jack. He had so many questions inside his head they were making him dizzy. “Anything you want to ask?” Cannon asked as if on cue.

“No, sir, Sergeant,” he heard Jack say.

“No, sir, Sergeant,” he heard himself repeat.

Sergeant Cannon told them to relax again. Em wanted to ask question after question. But what would he ask first? The first question that kept coming to mind was “What is going to happen to Corby?” They could not look after each other if they went to different places. How could he bring Corby’s name into a conversation? He was about to blurt the first thing that came into his head when he heard the outer door. Then he heard footsteps in the hallway. Whoever it was, he was wasting no time. His footsteps were similar to a horse’s gait.

“This is it, boys. Let’s see you shine.”

Colonel Philip Roth entered the room as if he owned it. The first thing Em noticed was that he was not a big man. The second thing that came to his mind, almost simultaneously, was that he was not an old man. Em was expecting at the least gray hair. This man was much too young to be a full bird colonel. He walked straight toward Sergeant Cannon, and the two friends shook hands.

“How are you, Jeffrey?” Colonel Roth looked at his friend and continued to grip his hand.

Sergeant Cannon smiled—Em thought it looked like a sad smile—released his grip, and turned toward Jack and Em. He introduced them to the colonel.

Colonel Roth asked them where they were from. He asked about their families, their friends, and he asked why they were here, in the air corps. Before long, Em started to feel a little more relaxed. He looked at Jack and saw that he too had begun to loosen up. Colonel Roth was acting like he wanted to be their friend. Neither Em nor Jack had ever seen an officer behave in this manner.

Jack told Colonel Roth that he really wanted to be a pilot but had been considered too tall. Em heard Jack talk about this before, but this time, he seemed dead serious. Em saw the look in Jack’s eyes as he spoke of owning his own airplane. It was a look he had not seen in his friend’s eyes before now. Seriousness. That’s what it was. Jack always kept things light. His mood was always the same. No one knew when to take him seriously. Now, he spoke with sincerity. Em believed that Jack would own his own airplane someday.

“Yes, sir. I plan on owning my own airfield. I am going to give rides to tourists after the war. Back home in Florida, it’s always warm, sir, and when this war is over, people will come from all over the United States to vacation in Florida. I plan on getting rich from those people.” He stopped talking abruptly, and Sergeant Cannon and Colonel Roth just stared at him.

Colonel Roth leaned forward and said in a low voice, “What makes you think people will come all the way to Florida for vacation?”

Jack explained his theory the same way he had explained it to Em in the laundry room just two weeks ago. To him, it seemed logical that all the women who were the American workforce would not be content being just housewives when the war was over. He said that America would build cars. The women would continue to work. The factories that now produced war machines would begin to make automobiles. In just a few years, everyone would own a car. Patriotism would be strong, and people would want to see America. Jack said Florida would be the number 1 place to go. Sergeant Cannon and Colonel Roth were listening to every word. Em didn’t think they believed in Jack’s plan as much as Jack, but they listened and never interrupted.

Jack finished and, with a very satisfied demeanor, said, “So when I’m rich and you two are through being soldiers, you can come work for me.”

Em looked at his friend incredulously and then looked to Sergeant Cannon and Colonel Roth. To his amazement, both of them were grinning from ear to ear.

“That sounds like a mighty fine plan, son.” Colonel Roth stood up and walked toward the window. He stared out at the dreary flat landscape and spoke in a sincerest way, “Boys, I need a crew I can trust. I’ve found that a man can’t trust too many people.” He turned to look them in the eye and said, “The world has a way that can turn a man from right to wrong. Many of the men who work for me have been around for a long time. I trust them to a degree because I have to. For my next mission, I need complete trust and loyalty. I have found that I trust my instincts more with each passing year. Furthermore, I trust Sergeant Cannon’s instincts. I also need you to trust me. What I am going to ask you to do is going to be dangerous. We will travel to some of the most dangerous places on earth. I can only ask that you do this. If you decide that you would rather not, you will suffer no consequences. I want you to know that I value Sergeant Cannon’s opinion as much as I value my own. I like both of you, boys. I believe he has made the right choice.”

He walked away from the window and approached Em and Jack. “I want to offer you a job on my flight crew. I am putting together a new team. You two are the first official members of that team. When basic training is over, I will be sending you to Hawaii. There you will learn how to take care of my plane. That will include basic flight training and, of course, survival training. You will also be responsible for loading and unloading the cargo we will be transporting.” He paused and stared at them briefly. “I’m asking you boys to be a part of my team. I have to believe that you know what that means.”

Em looked at Colonel Roth and was certain that he was about to change his mind. He was sure of it. I have to say something, he thought. “Colonel Roth, could I say something?”

“What is it, son?” Colonel Roth looked at Em in a fatherly way.

“There is nothing more important to me than protecting our country. I’ve known ever since Pearl Harbor that I would help to end this war and punish those who are responsible. It makes me proud to be chosen for whatever you have in mind. I know I’m young, but I’m very loyal and dedicated. I am also ready and willing to become a part of your team. I also want you to know that my friend, Jackson Turner, will not disappoint you. I trust him, and I believe in him. I am confident in our abilities, and I am confident that Sergeant Cannon has made the right choice. You have my loyalty, and I only hope that you will trust your friend and learn to believe in us. We will give you one hundred percent of our abilities. Please give us this opportunity.”

Em stopped briefly and looked from Colonel Roth to Sergeant Cannon to Jack. As he looked at Jack, he realized he had spoken for him without ensuring that he was on board. “I’m sorry, Jack. I never meant to speak for you.”

Jack just looked at him, smiled, and said, “Don’t worry, Storybook. I couldn’t have said it better myself.” With this, they both became silent and turned simultaneously to look at Colonel Roth.

Colonel Philip Roth cleared his throat, looked at his friend, and said, “Jeffrey, where did you find these two?” He slowly turned to face the two airmen. “Story, Turner, I want you to know that I believe in the two of you. Once you have completed your training, we will be spending a lot of time together. We will learn to trust each other.” He spun on his heels and looked at Sergeant Cannon. “Sergeant Cannon here will take care of the details. You will probably not see me again for quite some time. In the meantime, we will expedite your training as soon as possible. You two remain true to your patriotism and remember to work hard. I want this team ready by the end of the summer. Jeffrey, this is critical. I came to you because I trust you more than anyone else alive. I trust your judgment also. I feel confident in your choice of these two. I promise that I will take care of them.”

“Colonel Roth?” Em heard the words escape his mouth before he realized his head was thinking them. “I have a friend that knows a lot about engines, and I know you need a flight mechanic.”

Colonel Roth put his hand up to silence him. “Airman Story, I appreciate your concern. I promise I will consider your ideas, but I have to tell you that the importance of the missions we will receive far outweigh any other factors to consider.” Then he looked Em directly in the eye and said, “I realize that your friend is important to you. Sergeant Cannon has informed me of the close bond you share with this other kid from Kentucky. Arrangements have been made to send your friend to Aircraft Maintenance School in Biloxi, Mississippi. He should be completely safe no matter where he ends up. He’ll keep those planes in the air, miles away from combat. I took care of this matter myself so you would not worry about him. I need your entire devotion to this project.”

The rest of the meeting was filled with idle talk. Colonel Roth wanted to know about their families, high school, their friends, girlfriends; and he even answered a few of their questions. They found out he was from Texas. He and Sergeant Cannon had known each other a very long time. Even though Philip had become a colonel and Jeffrey was only a sergeant, their friendship had never faltered. Em could sense the mutual respect and admiration between the two men.

The last personal comments came from Sergeant Cannon. “You boys haven’t disappointed me. You have mastered anything I have thrown at you. I usually don’t get personal with new recruits, but, Story, you remind me of Philip. I respect the way you took care of your friend when you got here. I learned to respect your friend Cook also. He reminds me of myself.” He pushed himself away from his desk and stood up. “This meeting has come to an end. I regret to inform you two that this is all strictly confidential. You must not even tell your best friends. The two of you will receive a top secret clearance before you leave for training, and I cannot reinforce the importance of secrecy enough.” He stared at them for five seconds.

With nothing else to say, Sergeant Cannon dismissed Em and Jack and told them to catch up to McAtee and Summerkamp and get the laundry finished. They turned to leave the room. Sergeant Cannon and Colonel Roth remained to talk about what had just happened. As Em and Jack were exiting the room, they heard Sergeant Cannon say, “Don’t worry, Philip. You know I’ll take care of them. Maggie and Meredith mean more to me than anything. I won’t let anything happen to them.”

When they joined their friends in the laundry room, it was difficult to dodge the inquiries. McAtee and Summerkamp were aware of the meeting with Sergeant Cannon, and they were not going to let up. The speed with which Jack formulated the lie was astonishing.

“He was so impressed with us sorting the uniforms that he wants us to show all the other laundry crews how we do it.” The ease with which they accepted this explanation was double astonishing. Em wondered if they would figure out the lie when they never actually witnessed them conducting training sessions.

Ten minutes later, they saw Colonel Roth exit the building. He emerged from the door at the rear of the barracks. With a purposeful stride that made him seem taller than he actually was, he made his way to a waiting car. Little did they know, the next time they would see Colonel Philip Roth would be on the other side of the world.

Later that night, as Em lay on his bunk trying to fall asleep, he thought of Colonel Roth and all the possibilities concerning his future. On one hand, he was excited. On the other, he was scared half out of his mind. Why in the world did Colonel Roth want him and Jack? Could it really be so dangerous? And if it was, why was he using teenage boys? Em knew there would be extensive training, but he was still only eighteen years old. All these thoughts did not help him relax. He was imagining all sorts of scenarios. Several involved a plane being shot at, and every one involved blood. He tried to reassure himself that the war would really be over soon. The president was promising something would change war forever. The entire newsreel they were seeing talked about the Allied front that now occupied Rome. There were rumors around the base that a major offensive was taking place right now. Tomorrow was June 4. They only had two more weeks of basic training. Then he tried to imagine him and Jack in Hawaii. He could not believe how fast things were happening. He wondered how soon he would be going overseas. He was now very sure that he would be spending some time “over there.” His mind continued to roam. He thought he would never sleep this night. There were so many questions that he now wished he had asked Colonel Roth. Was he allowed to tell his parents where he was going? How long would he be in Hawaii? What was he going to tell Corby? He was overwhelmed with several emotions, confusion being the prevalent one.

All around him he heard bunks creaking. He looked to Corby’s bunk because he heard him snoring above the others. It seemed that Corby was maturing at an astonishing rate. No longer was he the skinny tagalong that he had been just one month ago. He was adapting to his environment with a speed that flabbergasted most of those who knew him. Em had heard several of the guys talk about the statement that Corby had made on their first night in the barracks. They had once joked about Corby being able to take care of any of them, let alone himself. Now, each of them knew that he had meant every single word of it. A few of them had actually requested to be assigned in the same company. Em was excited for him but also frightened. He could picture Corby volunteering for every dangerous mission that came his way. It was not just a fear. Em knew that was who Corby was and that he would most assuredly try to out brave even the toughest infantryman. His appointment today was with Sergeant Houston. He was an aircraft mechanic and maintenance specialist. He was going to be one of several instructors in Biloxi. Corby and Larry got to meet him beforehand. He had told Em all about it when he returned this afternoon. He was so excited about working on planes that he had not even asked Em about Colonel Roth. By the time he finished ranting about the new jet engines, it was time for his chow runner duties.

After chow, they had parade practice, so he and Corby had not had a chance to talk before lights out.

“What are you doing for Colonel Roth?” he asked as soon as reveille ended. Instantly, the room became deadly silent. About a dozen sets of eyes turned and looked at Em and Jack through the dimness.

Jack did not miss a beat. He immediately started talking about the girl from the hospital. He told them all that he had flirted just a bit too much and had lured Em in with him. When Colonel Roth, the girl’s father, had found out, he wanted to see the two responsible. According to Jack’s story, the two of them would be hanging around Texas a few weeks longer than the rest of them. They were not to graduate with the rest of the flight. They were to remain behind and wait for their new assignment. Em was amazed once again with Jack’s ability to lie with such ease. By the time he finished talking about how he and Em had embarrassed the girl, everyone around them felt envy and sympathy for them.

Em and Jack did not get to discuss this before lights out. As Em lay on his bunk thinking about the eventful day he’d had, he was comforted by the fact that he now had something to tell Corby. Em had seen the look in Corby’s eyes as Jack had been telling his tale. He was not sure whether Corby believed him or not. Regardless, Em thought it best if his story mirrored Jack’s tomorrow. He wanted to tell Corby everything, but he was sure that was not a good idea. If Colonel Roth or Sergeant Cannon thought he had spoken of the details of their meeting, all the trust they had bestowed upon him would vanish. So when Corby assaulted him in the morning, he would try and retell Jack’s story. He hoped that Corby did not see right through his lies.

Just like every other night since he had arrived here, his thoughts returned to Irene in the white dress. He wanted desperately to see her. He wanted to tell her everything, but most of all, he wanted answers for himself. He didn’t know if he could keep his secret from all the people for which he cared most. The hardest part of his air corps career was sure to be ahead of him. He had never been deceitful in his entire life. Even though he was only keeping a secret, he felt as though he were involved in a gigantic lie.

When sleep finally descended upon him, he dreamed he was back home in Kentucky. Irene was at his side. They were resting on a porch of a house he did not recognize. She held his hand tight as though she could never let go.

*****

Three days later, they were given three hours of free time. Em had tried to persuade Larry and Corby to come with him and Jack. He planned on Jack showing them some of his martial arts moves. There had been minimal discussion of this since the day they had first received mail. Corby told him that Larry would never forgive Jack for the humiliation he suffered, and he would absolutely never take fighting lessons from Jackson Turner. Em tried to patch things up, to no avail. Perhaps, he thought, it was best the way things were. Larry and Corby would leave for Biloxi. He and Jack would leave for Hawaii. All would be well.

He sat inside an empty aircraft hangar on a stack of wooden pallets. He had his writing pad with him. He waited on Jack. All the sergeants seemed preoccupied with something, and several were roaming around the cavernous hangar. Em suspected something significant had taken place on the war front. The flight line was especially busy. Planes were taking off from the runway. None of them was returning, as was usual. Something big had definitely happened.

Em was writing to Irene. He was telling her about what was happening around him. He did not want her to worry needlessly, but he assumed that she could not worry more than she was already. What he wrote next was the most difficult thing he had ever tried to write her. He tried to tell her about where he would be going after basic training. The lie that Jack had come up with erupted from his pen. He wrote a page and a half and never felt so ashamed. He closed the pad and dropped his head between his knees. He contemplated tearing the sheet from the book and physically had his hand on the corner of the paper.

“Hey, Storybook.” Em looked up and saw Jack strutting his way toward where he sat. “Got your nose in that book again. You won’t have anything to say to her when you do see her.” Jack believed that Em was a little too in love. “You’re going to be gone a long time. There’s no way the two of you will make it.”

“Shows how much you know. I love her, Jack. There will never be another girl for me.” Em stared at Jack with just a hint of contempt. “Besides, I’m trying to tell her about what’s going on around here. Have you even noticed that every person who is not a recruit has been acting a little strange? There are planes leaving the base, and they are not coming back. There are women crying in every administration building, and all the sergeants have gotten a little bit nicer. Something big is happening. As usual, we are going to be the last ones to know.”

“You see, Storybook, that’s where you’re wrong. Aren’t you just a bit curious to know where I’ve been and why I am late meeting you?” Jack said this with the most know-it-all look on his face.

“What are you talking about?” Em asked him.

“Well, you are not going to believe who I ran into…”

Twenty minutes went by without Em learning anything about what was happening around them. Jack had “accidentally” run into Meredith Roth at the hospital. It seemed he had literally bumped into her as she exited the lab. She was carrying another tray of blood samples. After he helped her clean up the mess and she informed the lab that some new samples would be needed, he invited her to share a soda in the cafeteria. She had accepted and put him on cloud nine.

Em noticed that Jack was always lucky. Things just seemed to work out for him. Meredith never even questioned him about why he was outside the laboratory. She had graciously accepted his invitation and acted quite eager to talk to him. To hear Jack tell the story, Meredith never took her eyes off him. At first, all she wanted to talk about was Jack. She asked him all the usual questions: “Where are you from? Do you have any brothers or sisters? What is your job going to be? Do you have a girlfriend?”

Once again, according to Jack, this was the only question that really interested her. As he told Em about what she was wearing and how golden her hair looked, Em saw that Jack had lost all track of the focus of his story. “Jack, please tell me more about her later. I want to know what’s going on around here.”

“Em, you’re not going to believe it. We invaded France! The Allies have moved into Europe. Meredith didn’t know everything, but she heard her mom on the telephone. She said that half of the enlisted on this base would be ‘over there’ within a month. That includes most of the sergeants. All new recruits are to get accelerated weapons training and will be sent as soon as possible to support the mission. That was all she heard before her mom started to cry. Then she said she couldn’t listen to anymore.”

Em sat with his notebook in his lap. He looked down and noticed the sweat on his hands. There were drops on his notebook. The words he had just written were smeared. “What are you talking about? Are you saying that all of us are going ‘over there’ this month?” Em could not believe any of this. He looked down at the paper in his hands, and all he could think about was Irene. He ceased to hear anything that was happening around him. What about Corby? He thought that none of them was ready to go yet. Corby was not ready to go yet.

“Hey! I’m talking to you.” Jack smacked the side of Em’s head. “There’s one more thing.” Jack looked down at Em and said, “Meredith knew one other thing. Before her dad left, she heard him talking about his new mission. Whatever it was, even she could tell it was classified and extremely important. She heard him talking to Sergeant Cannon about Florida and Kentucky. He said that they were going to be important. She didn’t know what he was talking about. She said all this while she cried. I got to hold her hand.” This started his ego to rise again. “She was practically all over me, Em. She said she was so scared she was never going to see her father again. That’s when I told her I would take him a message.”

Em could not believe his ears. “You didn’t tell her about us, did you? Tell me you didn’t, Jack.”

“Well, not about you,” Jack said meekly.

Em covered his face with his sweaty hands. “Oh no! C’mon. Let’s go!” He jumped up to his feet and started across the hangar toward the exit. “We have to tell Corby what’s going on.”

When they got back to the barracks, Sergeant Cannon was in his office. The rest of the flight was still enjoying their free time. Several of the other airmen were using their time to get caught up with their writing home. At least ten guys were lying on their bunks writing letters. Obviously, no one had heard what Jack had heard. Jack and Em walked quietly through the barracks in the direction of the common room between the two bunk rooms. They had to make their way past Sergeant Cannon’s office. The only window was a two-foot square hole in the wall. As they made their way by the window, they instinctively looked inside. It looked deserted.

The next moment, Em jumped sideways when he heard Sergeant Cannon’s voice. “Turner! Story! Get in here!”

Em ran into Jack, pushing him into the opposite wall. His first instinct was to keep walking as though he had not heard. Then Jack pushed him back. His unwanted momentum was carrying him toward Cannon’s door.

He straightened himself and looked back at Jack. With an equal look of befuddlement on his face, Jack also had righted himself and was following him. They stood outside the door and looked at each other. “What’s going on?” they asked each other simultaneously.

“C’mon in, boys. Have a seat. I’ll be out in a minute.” They heard Cannon, who was obviously inside the inner part of his office. They walked into the outer office and sat down in the only two chairs on their side of the desk. Em looked immediately at the eagle clutching the rabbit and felt the same as he had felt on his previous visit here. He saw other things on the shelf this time. He noticed there were no pictures, not one. Everything looked like it could belong to anyone. The eagle was perhaps the most personal thing in the room.

“Psst.” Jack nudged him. “Look.” Jack gestured toward the inner doorway. Cannon was pulling on his undershirt. The scar ran from his shoulder, down across the middle of his back. It was at least one half inch wide. Em turned back around as Jack continued to stare into the doorway. “What the heck is that?” Jack whispered.

“I don’t know.” Em sat in disbelief, and thoughts were racing in his mind.

Jack said, “Here he comes.”

Cannon emerged through the doorway looking as crisp as he had on day 1. He walked to the door and closed it. He pivoted and, with his left hand, pulled the door down that closed the hole in the wall. “Relax, boys. You look a little nervous. Really. Relax.” Cannon was calm. His calmness easily put Em and Jack at ease. Cannon started by asking them what they had heard about the previous day’s events concerning the war.

Em suddenly felt comfortable talking to Cannon and knew then and there that he would tell him everything that he and Jack knew. However, before he could process his thoughts into words, Jack was spilling his guts. He told him everything, even who had told him. Em was astonished. Jack surprised him every day in one way or another.

Cannon sat very still and listened to every word. The serious look on his face was testimony that it was all true. Em feared what Cannon would say when he did decide to speak.

“Listen, boys. What you’ve heard is true. Things are going to change around here real fast. Training programs will quickly change to on-the-job training programs. People are going to be on the move. I’m not trying to scare you. First of all, I don’t think this will affect the two of you. Your new assignment will not be altered in any way. Although I still remind you that neither of you are under any obligation to proceed with this. I want you to think things through and make your own decisions.”

He continued to talk. They hung on every word. He told them that each member of their flight, excluding him and Jack, would be in Europe within six weeks. That was when Em faded out for a minute. Corby was going “over there.”

Em drifted for a few more seconds, thinking about Corby, before he heard Cannon say, “The two of you will be leaving a little early also. Probably within the next seven days.”

Em looked at Jack, and Jack was smiling. Of course, he’s smiling, Em thought. He had no one here that he’s close to. Em supposed that Jack really could not wait, but as for himself, he did not know what to do. If he changed his mind and refused this opportunity and took his chances to stay with Corb, how could he be sure that they would remain together?

He wanted to ask so many questions that he could not concentrate on what Cannon was saying. “And I’ll be flying with you at least part of the way.” Em barely heard the words Sergeant Cannon was saying.

All this was just too much to take in at one time. Em felt overwhelmed to a point of high anxiety. Things were happening much too fast. He could not process the thoughts racing through his mind. He couldn’t tell Irene where he was going. He couldn’t tell Corby where he was going. And what would Corby think when Em couldn’t tell him where he was going?

“And both of you will have a California mailing address. You will tell your families that you will be at a new facility in Monterey, California. You will tell them you are studying jet mechanics.” Cannon continued to talk for ten more minutes. He tried to explain what would happen to the rest of the flight. He assured them that none of them would be near the front lines. He even smiled when he said, “How could we repair the planes if we were at the front?” Cannon knew how Em felt about Corby. He also knew about the way Em had tried to ensure Corby’s well-being.

Cannon finished by telling them how proud he was to know them and how he felt that Turner and Story would one day look back and remember this as one of the most crucial decisions of their lives. He dismissed them by ordering them to locate the entire flight and assemble them in the common room before five o’clock in the afternoon. As they were walking through the doorway, Cannon said, “Oh yeah, one more thing.” Then he pointed a finger at Jack and said, “Stay away from Meredith.”

Jack paused. Cannon just turned and walked back into the inner office. “Was he serious?” Jack looked at Em.

“He sure looked serious,” Em replied.

After spending twenty minutes recruiting the letter writers to aid in locating the rest of the flight, they spent the next sixty minutes rounding them up. It seemed every flight on base was trying to reassemble their groups. As they scampered across the base, they heard more stories about June 6. It was quickly becoming an infamous date. The reports said the president was going to address the nation at five o’clock in the afternoon.

At four fifty in the afternoon, Em had found seventeen of their flight. He only hoped that Jack and the others had done as well. He walked into the common room and looked for Jack. At first, he did not see Jack, Larry, or Corby. He did count at least forty airmen. He needed an accurate count and fast. He screamed as loud as he could for everyone to back against the wall. Only about half of them were listening, so he proceeded down the aisle. He shoved airman after airman to the right or left and told them to stay against the wall. Then he saw Corby. He and Larry were by the rear door. Larry was holding a towel to his head. To Em’s horror, the white towel had splotches of red all over it.

“That son of a—Ow!” Larry yelled. He grimaced as he looked at Summerkamp, who had walked through the door and bumped into him, sending him unbalanced until he cracked his head on the wall. “I’m donna ged him if ids the last ting I do.” Larry was half mumbling.

Summerkamp turned around and said, “Hey. I’m sorry. How was I supposed to know you’re on the floor?”

“I wadn’t talking to you,” Larry blurted.

“You all right, Larry?” Em, always trying to be the diplomat, interrupted.

“Hey, Storybook. Where you been all day?” Corby was smiling, but when he looked down at Larry, the smile left his face. “He’s all right. Ain’t ya, Lar?” Corby looked at his friend. “Nothing we can’t handle. I think the bleeding’s stopped anyway. All we have to do is put this towel in our laundry bag, and it will be taken care of.”

“Very funny.” Em looked at Corby. They both grinned again. “No, really, what happened, Larry? Are you really all right?” Em looked again at Larry and saw his swollen nose for the first time. There was no mistaking it. Larry had been in a fight.

Suddenly, Em remembered the count. He spun around to see everyone gathering around to see what was going on. “Back on the wall!” Em screamed, and to his astonishment, everyone double-timed it against the wall. “Now, count off, starting here!” He punched the wall beside Summerkamp.

“One!” “Two!” “Three!” The count continued around the room.

“Forty-eight,” he heard Corby say behind him. “That’s including Larry. You’re forty-nine. Where’s your buddy?”

Now Em realized that Jack was not in the room. It was four fifty-seven in the afternoon, and Sergeant Cannon was pushing the radio from his office into the common room.

*****

Jack sat outside the base hospital on the grassy slope where he and his friends had sat on the day he had first seen Meredith. He looked down the hill toward the flight line and noticed the hustle and bustle. Sitting here thinking about what lay ahead, he began to think about what he would actually be doing. It was difficult to feel anything but deep dread. The fear of the unknown had always pushed him. He had been so ready to begin his adventure with Colonel Roth. Now that he feared it would never happen, he began to lose his spirit.

Meredith sat beside him leaning on his shoulder. “What are you thinking?” she asked him without looking up.

“I’m thinking about the trouble that I am definitely in,” Jack stated.

“Well, what for? Missing your meeting or punching that poor boy’s nose?” She now leaned away from him and looked into his eyes. “I knew what he said was obviously a lie. You would never say anything like that. He was absolutely horrid.”

“You’re right. I would never say anything like that.” Jack meant every word.

What Larry had said to Meredith had definitely crossed the line. Jack would have let it go if only Larry would have apologized and admitted to the lie he was telling. Even though Larry refused, Jack was going to forget about it. That was when Larry tried the rear assault again. Jack, who seemed always prepared, tossed him easily aside. When Larry had come charging, Jack moved easily to the side and raised his fist. Larry seemed to throw himself into Jack’s fist. The blood flowed within seconds. Larry retreated, and Jack had been sitting here ever since. He didn’t really care about the meeting at five o’clock in the afternoon. Whatever trouble he was in for missing the president’s speech did not compare to not being on Colonel Roth’s team. With punching Larry and seeing Meredith minutes after Sergeant Cannon had told him to stay away from her, he was sure his once-in-a-lifetime opportunity was gone. So he sat on the grass with the most beautiful girl he had ever seen and hoped that the day would never end.

He wished he could tell her about her father’s team, but that could only make the situation even worse. All he had told her before was that he had heard Sergeant Cannon say something about her father going to Hawaii. He told her he was also going to Hawaii. He laughed out loud when he told her that, since it was an island, he would undoubtedly see her father.

He decided to sit still and hold her for what would probably be the one and only time. As he sat, he watched the sun begin its descent. He could smell the sweet aroma coming from her shining hair. Could he be falling for her? If he was, how could he ever make it possible to see her again? Suddenly, he sat up straight and startled her.

“What’s wrong, Jack?” she asked.

“I have to go back and straighten this thing out. I don’t want to mess this up any worse than it is already.”

“But you know you’re late already, and you were the one who was responsible for getting everyone there.” She looked at him, and when their eyes met, she felt heat rush to her face. “Jack, I don’t know why, but I know that everything will be all right. If you want, I’ll talk to Uncle Jeff.”

“What? He’s your uncle?” Jack looked at her incredulously.

She looked back at him and said, “I thought you knew. He’s my mother’s brother.”

“I had no idea. I just thought he and your dad were friends.”

“They have always been friends. Uncle Jeff introduced my parents. Daddy was fresh out of officer’s training when they first met. Uncle Jeff was only sixteen and had just enlisted in the army. They spent a few years in the same unit. Uncle Jeff saved my daddy’s life once.” She was talking and staring right into Jack’s eyes.

Jack rose to his feet and offered his hand to help her up. She took it and stood up, holding his hand tight in hers. Jack said, “I have to go.” He let go of her hand. “I’ll find a way to see you. Don’t say anything to Sergeant Cannon. I need to talk to him first.”

At that moment, she leaned in closer to him and closed her eyes. He saw her beauty once again. He was just beginning to lean in to kiss her when someone screamed, “Jack! You idiot! C’mon! We gotta go!” Jack turned and saw Em running toward him. “C’mon,” Em said again. “Hi.” Em looked at Meredith with curiosity.

“Hello, Emory. Jack has told me so much about you. I hope you can fix this mess. It really is all my fault,” Meredith said.

“It’s not going to matter if we don’t get back on the double,” Em informed her.

The looks they gave each other were almost piercing. Each one tried to read the others thoughts. Em looked away first and turned to stare at Jack. “Let’s go,” he said. “Nice to see you again, Meredith, but we really have to go.”

Jack half stumbled down the slope because he kept turning to look at her.

They double-timed it back to the barracks. Em heard an abbreviated version of the events that had taken place. He knew that it was Jack who had hit Larry. Corby had told him before he left to find Jack. He couldn’t be angry about the fight after he heard the whole story. However, he was angry about where he found Jack.

“Really, Jack, you didn’t waste any time coming to see her after Cannon told you to stay away from her,” Em said as they jogged along.

“I had to come see her, Em. I couldn’t just ignore her. I already told her I would come see her every chance I got,” Jack said this in short bursts because they were both becoming breathless.

“What are we running for?” Jack asked. “The president’s speech is over already.”

“We have to get back before the flight is out of the chow hall.” Em panted a few times and resumed his one, two, three, four breathing pattern.

“What? Cannon doesn’t know that I wasn’t there?” Jack had already begun to smile. “How’d ya pull that off?”

“I never did anything. Cannon never really looked at us. He just stared at the radio. The speech was about the Allies. We’re not stopping until we get to Berlin. Cannon looked like he wanted to puke—”

“Oh yeah,” Jack interrupted. “Check this out. Cannon and Roth have been friends for more than twenty years. Colonel Roth was Lieutenant Roth, and Sergeant Cannon was just a kid, but he was already in the army. Cannon introduced Roth to his future wife, who just happened to be Cannon’s sister. Yeah!”

Em was starting to believe that Cannon had been right when he said things were now going to be moving fast. He knew, in his mind, that there was no possibility of turning down the assignment. He also could not wait to go. Nothing else had entered his mind since he had left the barracks. With each minute that passed, the desire for adventure overwhelmed him. He had a chance to perhaps really make a difference somehow. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to go. The feeling was exhilarating and at the same time petrifying. He would be virtually alone, depending solely upon himself. He knew he would have Jack and Colonel Roth, but he had never been entirely apart from his family and friends. He felt something inside himself as he jogged along. It was power. He also felt desire like nothing he had ever felt before. He longed for this journey to begin.

“Hey.” Jack poked Em in his side. “Are you listening to me?”

“What? I heard you. So what? We knew that they knew each other,” Em said.

“You didn’t hear what I said after that,” Jack replied.

“What?” Em stopped jogging and began to walk at a leisurely pace.

Jack was not even breathing hard when he began to stroll. “Cannon saved the colonel’s life.” Jack began again. “But don’t ask me how. That’s when you interrupted us.” Jack told this lie with as much ease as his others, but Em really had interrupted something extremely important.

They approached the chow hall as the flight was starting to trickle out. Things sure had loosened up around here in the past thirty-six hours. Jack and Em walked into their area unnoticed by all, except for two. Larry was glaring at Jack out of his one good eye. Jack paid no attention. He was looking for Cannon. Corby came over to where they were standing. He was smiling as usual.

“That was beautiful, Jack. Really. That little Nazi deserved it. I don’t know what he was thinking. What he said to her and what he told me he was going to say to her surely weren’t the same thing. He didn’t mean any of it though. He was just trying to get back at you.” Corby said all this with one breath and then held his breath waiting on Jack’s reply.

Jack just grinned and said, “I really never intended to mess him up, but he’s like a cockroach. He just kept coming back.”

“I know,” Corby said. “But that can be a good thing too, right? I really think that he would prefer to be your friend, but he just doesn’t know how. I don’t know. Don’t hold it against him, Jack. He really is a good kid. You know, I’ll make sure he apologizes to you and that girl. And who is she by the way?” Corby still had a way of putting people at ease. It was a trait Em was envious of.

“I don’t care about an apology, and I really don’t want him near Meredith,” Jack said.

“You’re not sure you want who talking to Meredith, son?” Cannon appeared from behind them and stopped directly in front of Jack. “What are you yelping about? I’m quite sure that Ms. Roth is none of your concern. I thought I made that perfectly clear. Need I reiterate?” Cannon remained calm.

“No, sir,” Jack replied.

“But just to satisfy my curiosity, who is it that you don’t want talking to my niece?” Cannon was staring at Jack with penetrating eyes.

“I didn’t want you to talk to her, sir. You see, I saw her again today.” At that point, Cannon twitched just a bit, but it was enough to make Jack flinch. “Accidentally, I mean. I went to round up the flight, and I ran into her. I told her that I couldn’t see her again. She said she would talk to you and make you understand, and I told her that I did not want her to. I really want to do the right thing. I know our new jobs are important, and I want to support our troops on the front in any way I can.”

Jack once again mystified Em. He could almost smell flowers whenever Jack dug the pits into which he entrapped himself. When he told his lies, the truth was all the recipient heard. Before his tales were spun, he would ascend from the pit smelling of flowers. Em looked at Cannon and saw that he believed every word of it. As long as Larry kept his mouth shut, which he undoubtedly would, Jack would emerge unscathed, once again.

Cannon did not seem completely happy with the events that had taken place, but he understood teenagers and ultimately decided to table the entire conversation. Instead, he formed them up in ranks and put them at attention. The flight had never seemed as motionless. They stood at attention while Cannon walked in circles, twenty feet away. After two minutes, he turned to them and said, “At ease, guys, and listen up.”

Cannon began by telling them how important the previous days’ events had been. He said that, indeed, June 6, 1944, would be a day that would never be forgotten. He told them to forget all the little problems that seemed insurmountable. He said to pay attention to those around you because they would definitely be your best friends at some point during this war. He also said the guy beside you would be your family. The flight had never listened so closely. Cannon told them to be prepared because this was going to be the quickest growing up in the history of mankind. Before he got too emotional, he stopped. Then, to their astonishment, he brought them to attention and proceeded to march them around the base for over an hour. At least ten men, who had spent the afternoon eating, fell out of ranks to vomit but quickly rejoined and continued to march. By the end of the march, each of them had learned a great deal. Em believed that Cannon had seen bad times and knew the face of war too well. Now, he had to watch thousands of eighteen-year-old boys go to war.

The evening ended quietly, with members of their flight remaining eerily quiet. Reality was beginning to set in. Barely anyone spoke. Even Corby had held his tongue uncharacteristically. Each of them either lay quietly on their bunk or wandered around speaking to friends in rather-low tones. Corby just lay motionless on his bunk, eyes open, looking at nothing in particular.

Jack sat, looking at Em. Em was writing. “Honestly, Em, what in the world do you say to her? You never stop with the writing.”

“Nothing really,” he said. “I just tell her about the things going on around here. I mean, I can’t tell her some things, and I hate that. I told her I would never lie to her, but I’ve already broken that promise. So I just tell her about all of you guys. She already has you pegged. She has told me, more than once, that you sound like trouble waiting to happen.” Em closed his writing pad and stretched out along the length of his bunk. He looked around and saw that most of the guys were sleeping. The remaining ones were staring holes into the ceiling. Em too was staring at one spot on the high barrack’s ceiling.

In less than seven days, he and Jack would be in Hawaii. Their training would be intense at times. Not knowing what their new jobs would entail, their imaginations were useless. Neither he nor Jack could think of a single scenario that was not far-fetched.

As for Corby, Em knew that he would be all right. He would go to Mississippi for a few weeks training and be in Europe by August. With any luck, he would be able to stay far enough away from any action to remain relatively safe. Perhaps by August, Em would be able to tell him about his new job. For now, he had to tell him he was going to California. He only hoped that Corby did not see through his lie.

Just as he had every night for over a month, he closed his eyes and pictured Irene. When he thought of her face, it was always smiling. Her black hair shimmered in the sun’s rays. The golden specks of her eyes reflected the light, and the white dress flittered gently in the breeze.

He thought, I love you, Irene. Wait for me. Please. Wait for me.