Читать книгу Emory's Story - Paul Holleran - Страница 8

Chapter 2

Journeys

Looking out into the fog, he felt very small. Somewhere out there, the Golden Gate Bridge connected San Francisco to Oakland, California. It was supposed to be the land of sunshine, but Em had not seen the sun in two days. He and Jack arrived by train and were escorted by military police. He saw some of the looks that the civilians gave them. As if they were war criminals, people leered at them. Some of the stares were hateful. Em supposed that, to civilians, he and Jack must look like criminals. Why else would they be escorted by the military police? Em was thinking about that himself. Could he and Jack be worth this much trouble? What was Sergeant Cannon thinking? He and Jack were still in the dark about what actual duties were in store for them. He and Jack had talked and talked on the way from Texas to California. They were the only military on most of the legs of their journey. They changed trains twice in Texas, once in Arizona, and three times coming through California. Four days of nonstop train travel had made them very weary. Delays were common along the way. A day felt like a week. He and Jack now knew more about each other than either of them knew about anyone else in the world. Both boys were truly scared out of their minds, but only Em would admit it. Em knew that Jack felt just like he did, but he also knew that he would never let on as though he did. What awaited them in Hawaii was still unknown, even though they would be there in less than two days, assuming the fog ever lifted. From San Francisco, they would fly eight hours to the island chain that was part of the Bering Strait. This they learned upon their arrival in California. As far as anyone at the army base knew, they were to remain on site until four o’clock in the afternoon the following day. Then they were to be taken to the military airfield on the north side of the bay. There they would board the flight that would take them via Alaska to Hickam Airfield, on the island of Hawaii. Why they had to go through Alaska was just another new mystery to contemplate during the trip.

For now, he and Jack sat looking into a dense blanket of gray. They saw nothing but reflections of themselves in the glass. Em looked at Jack’s reflection. He looked refreshed, like he had slept on a bed of roses and been fed breakfast in bed.

“Em, I can’t wait to get to paradise. When this fog lifts, I’m going to turn the propellers on the plane myself. I’d fly it myself if they would show me how. It’s going to be intense. Landing on an iceberg along the way and then finding that tiny, little island out in the middle of the ocean, all while riding in a flying warehouse.” Jack said all this while continuing to stare out the window.

“Enough already.” Em was looking at his friend with bewilderment. He could not understand Jack’s total lack of precaution about things. Sometimes he worried about his friend’s enthusiasm. Sometimes he was envious of it. Right now, he felt as if Jack was being a little naive about the adventure that awaited them. After all, this was wartime. They were not being trained for rescue. They were being trained for combat.

Jack stood up and started to pace once more. He had been doing this for the better part of the previous hour. He would walk a few paces and then stop to stare out of the window as if the fog were his to command.

Suddenly, as if on cue, the fog began to dissipate. Em looked through the glass, and objects began to appear one at a time. First, he saw jeeps, lots of jeeps, all loaded on pallets of some sort. They were stacked like bricks. Beyond the jeeps, the fog continued to roll away. Here in San Francisco, the fog was notorious. The bay was beautiful when it could actually be seen. Em never felt really sure that it was out there. As he watched the fog continue to recede, like a curtain being drawn, the planes and the airstrip became visible. It was apparent that no activity had been taking place. Then, as fast as it started to happen outside, it started to happen inside. People were now moving about and making noise. The fog was leaving. Planes were soon to follow.

Em looked at Jack and caught sight of a rare look on his face. He saw concern. Whether it was about getting on the plane or something else, Em did not understand. Although he and Jack knew each other’s history, only Em had said how he actually felt about things. He knew where Jack grew up. He knew about his family. He knew about his friends, his girl, his pets, his school, and every other thing in his life. The one thing he did not discuss was how he felt. He said a lot of things about his feelings for Carolyn and about the air corps but never how he felt personally. Em understood his friend, so he never pressured him into revealing his emotions.

“Hey. Is that everything you got?” Em asked.

“What?” Jack blinked a couple of times and turned to face his friend. “Huh?”

“I said, is that all you got?” Em was certain Jack had heard him, but he repeated himself just the same.

“Yeah.” Jack still looked subdued suddenly.

Only moments ago, Em remembered he had looked like the picture of certainty, ready to take on the world. Where did he go in his mind when he looked like that? What did he think about when he did not look like his confident self? Em decided to be patient. After all, he and Jack would be spending the better part of the next few years together. He slapped his friend on the back and said, “Let’s go to paradise.”

They were led to the exit and through the doors to the awaiting cargo plane. Em was not exactly sure what specific plane this was. He was sure of one thing. It hardly looked like it could fly when it was empty. As he watched the trucks load the pallets into the cavernous hole in the back of the plane, fear swept over him like a blanket. He had to climb into this thing along with too many jeeps and the other pallets and fly more than sixteen hours until they finally reached their destination. He was looking forward to the flying. He was not looking forward to the taking off and landing. Somehow, that part of flying seemed to be the most frightening. He had seen newsreel and read about countless accidents involving planes. The accidents always happened during takeoff or during landing. The giant tub in front of him barely looked as if it could stay airborne for one hour, much less the seven-and-a-half-hour trip to Alaska. Em was ready to get this initial flight over with.

“Hey, Jack.” Em ran to catch up to Jack, who was anxiously making his way to the ramp. “I sure hope this is not what we have to fly once we join Colonel Roth.”

“No way,” Jack replied. “I’m sure his plane will be faster than this flying coffin.”

“Stop it already. I’m not so sure of flying all night long in this thing anyway. You sure don’t make it any easier the way you talk about this plane.” Em stopped talking and looked into the back of the plane. As he ascended the ramp, he looked into a room the size of a large gymnasium. He could not help but think that this thing could never fly. The entire center of the plane was loaded previously and was already secured with belts and turnbuckles and ropes. It looked like some kind of crazy spiderweb. Em could not stop his mind. He could see this entire mountain of war machinery sliding through the plane. He was more frightened than ever.

In the middle of the ropes and belts, one man walked. He continually checked and rechecked every knot, every buckle, and every pallet. Em thought that, at the very least, he looked capable. The man made his way through the maze toward him and Jack. Em could see his face the closer he got. It soon became apparent that this guy was not much older than him or Jack. This did not reassure Em in any way. When he had thought him older, he trusted him more. Now that he saw that the man was much too young for this responsibility, his confidence in him vanished.

Em looked up at the young man. He really was about the same age as him and Jack. His height was average, and the oldest he could have been was about twenty-one. He was wearing some sort of coverall. It was olive green, just like everything else around here, Em thought. The only type of insignia visible was a single nametag on his left chest area: “Morton, Crew, 2274.”

Em looked around and watched as more pallets were loaded onto the plane. Morton continued to check the straps closest to Em and Jack. He pointed to the side of the plane, indication that Em and Jack should move to that area.

“Stand here and pay attention,” Morton spoke with an authoritative voice. He then moved to the center of the plane and guided more pallets onto the steel beams that ran along the bottom of the plane.

Em and Jack backed up against the side of the plane. The activity continued around them. Morton was talking to an older man dressed exactly as he was. Together, they looked over some papers and began to retrieve straps and ropes from boxes protruding from the sides of the plane.

“Why do we have to pay attention to this?” Jack quietly asked Em.

“I don’t know. What the heck was in his ears?” Em asked

“No idea, but didn’t it make you want to just reach out and box him upside the head?” Jack laughed as he said this.

“Not really. I’m more worried about where we’re going to ride in this thing. I don’t see any seats.” Em was trying to scan around the interior of the plane.

“I bet there’s seats up front somewhere.” Jack didn’t have many worries about seating. The look on his face said so. Em knew his friend could not wait to be underway. He also knew that Jack was most happy when something was happening. The only time Em ever saw a look other than confident on Jack’s face was when they were idle. Once something was happening, Jack was all business. His concentration was centered on the task at hand.

“I’m not so sure about that,” Em said. “I think there’s only room for the pilots up there.” He looked to the front of the plane. Indeed, it looked like the cargo area began just a few feet from the small door that led to the pilot area.

“Oh, well, guess we’ll find out soon enough.” Jack pointed to the center of the plane. “Look. Once they secure those pallets, we’ll probably be on our way. Maybe we’ll all sit in one of those jeeps.”

Em didn’t think that Jack was very funny. He noticed Morton and the other man as they continued to study the papers and run straps through the pallets and up and over them. It looked as if there were no order to what they were doing. Behind the nearest mountain of machinery, Em noticed that there was a small space between pallets. The two men moved a piece of metal to the center of the plane. Next, they secured it to the beam, which ran down the center of the plane’s belly. When they secured the last piece of metal to the floor of the plane, Em noticed, to his horror, that it was some sort of bench. A row of “seats” was sitting extremely close to the floor. Individual straps for each seat wrapped around the beam on the floor. Em shuddered as he thought of sitting in one of those for seven hours. He was sure that Morton and his partner had made some kind of mistake. He noticed that the seats were facing the rear of the plane. He decided not to mention it. They seemed pretty busy securing even more pallets. Next, he started to worry about them getting too close to the rear of the plane. He thought that they were dangerously close to the ramp.

Jack suddenly began to make his way toward the row of seats.

Em said, “Where are you going? Morton said to stay here.”

“I’m going to tell them they put the seats in backwards,” Jack said as he climbed carefully over a couple of ropes. He looked back at Em and said, “There’s been enough delays. I’m ready to get out of here. I’m going to see if they’ll let us help.”

Em watched as Jack approached the older man in the coveralls. Just as Jack opened his mouth, a deafening noise erupted all around him. It sounded as if the walls of the plane were collapsing. He covered his ears instinctively. Em saw Jack do the same. At the same time, he saw the older of the two airmen reach into his pocket and retrieve two of the cone-shaped items. He immediately inserted them into his ears and looked at Jack. He reached into another pocket and handed Jack two of the earplugs. Jack inserted them immediately, and then he pointed at the seats. The older man began to speak, but Em saw that Jack had difficulty hearing him. He handed Jack something and pointed right at Em.

Jack made his way back to where Em stood and gave him a set of earplugs. Em opened the package and inserted the cones into his ears. At first, he thought that the noise had stopped altogether. He soon realized that it had only diminished. There was still a roar inside his head. He tried to say something to Jack but could not imagine having to endure this for long.

Jack got right next to his face and said, “How about this, huh?”

Em heard him, but he sounded as though he was in another room. He looked up and noticed the two coverall GIs as they secured the final pallet. The last three pallets were placed in the center of the plane, creating space on either side. Here the two of them secured more seats. Em was not aware of other passengers. They had not seen any other military personnel besides the military police inside the airfield’s hangar.

Morton approached them and got really close before he said, “Pick your seats, fellas! The ones in the middle are your best bet!”

Em could not believe what he was being told. He had to strap himself to the belly of this plane and fly over 150 miles per hour. Once again, Jack moved first. He grabbed the aisle seat on the far side, ensuring that he would be the center of attention.

Em began to scan around again at the rest of the cargo. He was looking for the pallet that contained his belongings. If he was going to ride in this tub all night, he needed access to his writing pad. He had not written Irene since somewhere in southern California. He had yet to post any of them that he had written on the train. He was disappointed that he had forgotten to do that. Now, he would have to wait until he got to Hawaii. How long would it take to get to her from the middle of the ocean? Since his mission involved a “top secret” clearance, he only hoped he could mail them once he got there. The address they had given him for correspondence was as fictitious as the story he was instructed to tell. He had lied to Irene in at least three letters. He assumed that the lies would get easier to tell, but he was wrong. Each time he tried to answer one of her questions, the lie seemed to grow. By the end of his last letter to her, he was sure he had convinced her that he would never even see the inside of a plane. How his story had evolved into such a preposterous tale, he never knew. All he was sure of was that Irene was scared. Whenever he tried to reassure her, the lie seemed to grow bigger and infinitely falser. The reason he had not sent his last letters was obvious. He did not want to lie to her anymore.

He climbed through a maze of straps and pallets and located a small pallet with several green duffel bags on it. He saw “Turner” and “Story” among them. They were only secured with two ropes, so he was sure they would be given access eventually. It suddenly became apparent that soon he would be up in the sky. This thought and the realization that he could no longer lie to Irene began to overwhelm him. He was probably as close to panicking as he had ever been in his life. He looked at Jack and saw him having a conversation with Morton. Their faces were only inches apart. Em picked the seat next to Jack.

Jack turned around and said, “Pick any one you want! It’s just the four of us ’til we get to Alaska!”

Em didn’t know if he could stand to communicate this way for much longer. He hoped the noise would diminish when the ramp closed.

He heard creaks from the plane just before he saw the ramp begin to rise. Em felt like he was being nailed inside a coffin. He only hoped the feeling was temporary. The last part of the ramp latched, and the noise lessened at once. The noise level was still deafening if the earplugs were removed. It was tolerable when left inside the ears. When Em spoke, he could hear his own voice. “No turning back now, huh?”

“What would the rest of those knuckleheads think now? I bet no one thought we’d be on our way to Hawaii! They were all jealous because we were going to California! If they only knew!” Jack was already strapped in. He leaned as far back as the seat would allow. All in all, he looked rather comfortable. He never opened his eyes when he said, “Hey, Em! Where do you think Corb is now?”

Em closed his eyes and thought of his friend. Even though he could no longer think of getting through this war without his new best friend, Corby held a spot in his life that no one else ever would. He remembered the day they had left basic training.

*****

“You know I promised her I would look after you.” Corby looked at his friend and felt a lump in his throat. He could not cry. He just couldn’t. Em was really leaving. He had thought that they would stay together, at least for a little while longer. Now Em was going West, and he was going East. He was leaving tomorrow with Larry and several others from the flight. Six weeks in Biloxi, and then most assuredly, he would be going “over there.” Em and Jack were leaving today. In just a few minutes, Em and Jack were to be driven to the train station. As far as Corby knew, Em and Jack were the only ones who were leaving by civilian train. They were also the only ones leaving today. “Em, where exactly are you going?” Corby had a questioning look on his face.

“Somewhere in northern California. It’s some kind of school that works with new jet engines.” Em had told the lie so many times by now that it was almost habit. “You got my address, so you have to write. Seriously, Corb, you have to write. I know you haven’t written home much. You have to write to me.”

The two of them stood outside of the barracks near the laundry room. The activity around them was frantic. Ever since the invasion of France by the Allies, the action around the base was nonstop.

“Things really are crazy around here. Corb, listen to me. Don’t try to be a hero. I want us both to get home safe. I think the girls back home are going to look at you a little differently now.”

“I don’t care about that, Em. We have to win this war first, or those girls will be speakin’ German,” Corby said. Em knew that his friend meant every single word he was saying. His passion was apparent. Whatever team Corby was assigned to would benefit greatly because of him. Em could hardly believe the change in Corby. His acne had simply disappeared. He had gained at least twenty pounds, all muscle. The hair that was starting to grow on his scalp was no longer as red as it once was. It was now more of a brown. Corby had grown up. When they had arrived, he looked like a fifteen-year-old. Now he was beginning to look like a man. Em assumed the changes he was seeing in Corby also applied to him and the rest of the airmen in his flight. He even felt bigger and stronger. The changes that took place in just six short weeks amazed him.

“Hey. We’ll be leaving soon,” Em spoke out loud, but it didn’t sound like his own voice. Even his voice had grown up. The tone was a little deeper. Perhaps they had all grown up.

“Em,” Corby began, “I don’t know where you are really going, but I’m pretty sure you’ve been lying to me. If you can’t tell me, I understand. Only, if it’s dangerous, I expect you to tell me. You know you can trust me, and after all, we may never see each other again.”

“Shut up!” Em was startled by Corby’s words. “Never say that again because, when this is over, we are going back to Kentucky, both of us. And you are going to help me build Irene a house.”

Somehow, these statements made them both go all quiet. They just looked at each other, each with thoughts of home. They remained quiet for a few more seconds before Corby said, “Hey, Em, I’m kind of glad you are leaving today.”

Em looked at his friend and said, “What the heck do you mean by that?”

“Nothing personal, but if you don’t get Jack out of here soon, I’m afraid Larry might try something stupid again. He’s bent on revenge.” Em could not tell if Corby was serious or not.

“Corb, tell me something. What does Larry even think he can do to Jack? Jack would pulverize him in seconds. Is it all because of that day with the letter? I mean, the bloody nose was all Larry’s fault, right?” Em looked at Corby very sincerely and said, “I mean, if that’s all it is, then there is still hope of getting them to become friends, I think.”

“That’s not all, Em. Jack never leaves him alone. Every time that Jack has been near him lately, he has provoked him somehow. He calls him pip-squeak or just shadowboxes around him. He really gets to Larry in the worst way. I don’t think that Larry ever intends to be friends with Jackson Turner.” Corby told him all this. It surprised Em. He also told him that, just two days ago, Jack had approached Larry in the chow hall. He sat down at Larry’s table without being provoked. He then reached across the table and took Larry’s milk. He poured the milk onto Larry’s tray. He leaned in close to Larry’s face and whispered something to him. He spoke so low that only the two of them could hear. Larry refused to tell Corby later. Corby said that Larry had still not told him what Jack had said. Now, at the mention of Jack’s name, Larry turned a crimson shade of red.

Em could not believe this of Jack. He would try to make sense of it later. Right now, it looked as if he needed to say goodbye to his lifelong friend. Two jeeps pulled up to the side of the building. Sergeant Cannon jumped out of one of them. “I think that’s my ride.”

“Yeah. You better go get Jack. I’ll watch your stuff,” Corby assured him. Em turned slowly and proceeded into the barracks. As he entered the building, Jack was coming out. McAtee and Summerkamp had his bags and walked three paces behind him like a couple of servants.

“Set them over there, boys.” Jack had been spinning tales all week, and everyone was curious about where he and Em were going. “When I get to California, I will tell the girls all about you.” Jack had bragged about going to California all week. Every time someone countered with a story about Biloxi, Jack just made some sort of gesture of unpleasantness. He had everyone that was going to Biloxi convinced that it was a mosquito-infested swamp. He had the most amazing power of persuasion over people. He could talk a turtle out of his shell.

Sergeant Cannon finished talking to the drivers and started walking slowly toward them. “Well, this is it, boys. Are you ready?” When he noticed Corby, he asked, “What are you doing, Cookie? Shouldn’t you be getting ready yourself?”

“All packed, sir. Just seeing my boys off.” Corby was all business when any sergeant addressed him. The weeks of suffering through chow runner duties had trained him well.

Sergeant Cannon told Corby to load Em’s and Jack’s stuff into the jeep. When Corby walked away, loaded down so he would not have to make two trips, Cannon started talking in a low voice. He practically whispered to them. He explained the importance of what they were going to be doing, again. When Jack tried to speak, Cannon cut him off. Again, he told them of the importance of his relationship with Colonel Roth. But then he told them something that neither one expected. He said that as soon as they had finished their training and joined Colonel Roth, he would be joining their team. He said this as if they should have expected it. However, it could not have come as a bigger surprise.

“You going to fly with us, Sarge?” Jack quickly corrected himself when Sergeant Cannon looked at him. “I mean Sergeant Cannon.”

“If everything goes well, yes. I’ll be a part of the crew also. Besides, Philip needs someone to babysit the two of you.” He grinned as he said this and looked from Em to Jack and back to Em again. “One more thing, fellas,” Sergeant Cannon said very sincerely. “Don’t worry about your buddies. They are as safe as possible in the air corps. We were established mainly for support, so we will be far from the front lines. Your friends will probably see nothing in Europe except the engines they are working on.”

Somehow, his words seemed to soothe Em and made him worry less. He was sure that he and Corby would be back in Kentucky in less than two years. The war would surely end now that the Allies were gaining ground in France. It had only been a few days, but the news reports ensured every American that progress was swift. The Allies were moving inland from the coast at will. The Germans were retreating. Hardly any resistance was met once the Germans had seen the size of the Allied army. The Germans were running just like the president said they would. It would surely just be a matter of time before the Allies marched all the way to Berlin. Em only hoped everything he heard was true.

With these thoughts in his head, Em looked to Corby as he loaded the last bag into the jeep. Corby smiled as usual as he walked back toward them. Em wondered how long it would be before he saw that face again.

As he climbed into the front seat of the jeep, he held his hand out. Corby took it. He held on to his hand firmly as he shook it. Before he let go, he pulled Em out of his seat and hugged him. He whispered, “Thank you, buddy, for everything you’ve done. Don’t worry about me. You’ll never be rid of me. You and Irene will have to put up with me until we’re all old and gray.” Then he shoved Em forcefully back into his seat and turned and walked toward the barracks door. When he reached the door, he opened it and disappeared inside. Em watched the door close as the jeep started to roll.

*****

The roar of the engines as the plane accelerated somehow did not seem as loud as when the hatch was open. The acceleration caused the two airmen to lean forward, away from their seats. Em had never been on a plane before, but he had expected to be facing forward. He looked up at the hulking mounds of equipment. He was almost as frightened of the machinery falling as he was of flying. He wondered how all that weight stayed so still. No matter the size of the piles, they stayed as still as a monument. Absolutely nothing moved inside the plane, except for the four airmen. Em became a little more impressed with the abilities of the crew. His confidence in them grew.

The engines became a little louder as the plane accelerated even faster. Then Em felt the wheels as they left the ground. The sensation was unlike anything he had felt before. It was somewhat like riding Sugar back home. Whenever she was running with the wind, he felt as if he were flying. He felt his stomach. It felt as if it was ascending away from his body. Then he felt it return and realized they were above the ground. He was flying! He felt the sensation continuously. He knew that he was actually soaring above the earth. He looked down and saw the straps that tied him to the floor of this giant warehouse with wings. The feeling was sensational. He knew, then and there, that he would never get enough of this feeling.

He finally regained all his senses and looked over at his friend. Jack was already getting comfortable. His legs were extended in front of him. He rested his head on his interlocking arms. Just the hint of a smile remained on his face. Em started to say something but suddenly changed his mind. Instead, he emulated his friend and tried to relax. As unlikely as he assumed it would be, he became amazingly comfortable.

As he closed his eyes, he became aware of the flying sensation again. He imagined what it would be like to spread his own wings and fly. He imagined he was soaring over his family’s farm. He could see both of their barns on the north ridge with several of the cattle gathered near them. He saw the ponds, which his grandfather and great uncles had dug with shovels.

As he soared higher and higher, he looked toward his parents’ home. There in the backyard was his mother. She had a basket of laundry resting on her hip. She was hanging clothes on the line. His father was in the garden with a hoe. The weeds were visible, even from his lofty height. He spread his wings and soared up and up. He turned once again and raced toward the small ridge that ended at the northeast corner of the farm. The end of the ridge was visible in the sunlight. He dove toward the edge of the hill where he wanted to build his own home. He accelerated toward the end of the hill, diving low to the ground. The ground approached at an alarming speed. He went even faster, and as he flew over the crest of the hill, he was once again at least two hundred feet above the ground. The hill was steep. As he flew over the edge, it was as if he had just flown off a cliff. He looked down at the creek that ran through the farm. There, where the water pooled, stood Sugar. Her shimmering brown coat reflected the sun’s light. She was alone, and Em dove toward her. He skimmed the treetops as he approached her. The feeling was magnificent.

He looked back up to the top of the hill, and there, standing alone, silhouetted by the sun, was Irene. She was dressed as always in the white dress. He flapped his wings that were now part of him. He began to ascend the hill. Her beauty grew with each flap of his wings. He kept getting closer, but somehow, he could not quite reach her. He could see her as if he was mere feet from her, but she never saw him. She was looking toward the sun, toward the west.

He wondered if she was really there. He wondered if he was really there. He looked at her again and saw her eyes. She was crying. He wanted, more than anything, to tell her he loved her and that he would be home soon. He wanted to reassure her everything was going to be all right. Somehow, he knew that he would not be able to. He felt his wings lift him into the air. He looked back down and saw Irene. In the distance, he heard the sound of the plane’s engine as he fell into a dreamless sleep.

As soon as he awoke, he could not imagine ever sleeping while that roar was in his ears. As he opened his eyes, it was overwhelming. The noise seemed as if it were even louder. He felt his ears to be sure the plugs were still in place. As he squeezed one of them, to be sure it was doing its job, he instantly became aware that indeed it was functioning properly. The roar he heard when he wiggled the earplug assured him that removing them was not an option. He looked at his feet and realized that he could not feel them. Simultaneously, his feet started to tingle. This reminded him of just how exhausted he had been. How long had he been asleep? Were they near Alaska yet? As he stretched his arms, the feeling returned to his feet.

He scanned the interior of the plane once again. If it were not for noise and the vibration, it really felt as if he was in some sort of warehouse. The mountainous piles of machinery looked as if they did not belong on the inside of an airplane. Em wondered if all this stuff was going to Hawaii or if it was for the troops who were in Alaska. He could not imagine using these jeeps in Alaska. The jeeps were surely going to the troops in the Pacific realm.

He looked at Jack, who was sound asleep and snoring. Em could not really hear the actual snores, but each breath that Jack took made his lips vibrate.

Suddenly, the plane lurched. It seemed as if they were falling out of the sky. Jack awoke, startled. He grabbed the metal bar that held their seats to the floor. His eyes were wide with what could only be fear. He screamed, “What’s going on?”

Em could only shrug his shoulders. He assumed the look on his face matched the horrified look on Jack’s face. The plane began to sway back and forth, tilting one way, then the other. Both airmen were holding on to their seats, looking at each other. The fear they saw in each other’s eyes was something neither one had seen before.

The plane was now rocking back and forth. When they looked up at the two experienced fliers who were strapped into the side of the plane, their fear subsided slightly. Each one of them remained calm and collected. There was absolutely no panic coming from Morton or the other airman.

Then as if nothing had ever happened, the plane leveled off. The smooth ride they had been enjoying returned. The hum of the engines, which had not been apparent during the rocking, returned. The next thing that happened surprised Em more than anything else since the plane had left the ground. Jack quickly unstrapped himself from the floor and stood up. Before Em could ask him what he thought he was doing, Jack began to make his way toward Morton. Em remained in his seat and just watched as Jack approached the other two and leaned in close and spoke into their ears. Em could not tell what Jack was saying. The crew members were not too concerned. Em looked at the mountains of equipment and was astounded that nothing had moved even one inch. He began to appreciate the members of the crew that had loaded the massive machinery onto the plane. Jack returned to his seat and strapped himself in once more.

“What the heck are you doing?” Em began. “You can’t just walk around like you are on the ground.”

Jack leaned in close to hear what Em was saying. “Storybook, next time that happens, I will be ready,” Jack said.

“Ready for what?” Em looked at Jack, and the fear that had diminished only moments before returned. “Morton and that Sergeant weren’t too worried, so there’s nothing to be scared of, right?”

“He said that what just happened is almost normal. He says there is absolutely nothing to worry about,” Jack boasted as if he had not been frightened at all. “Turbulence happens when we hit air pockets that are warmer or colder. Could happen again any second now.” Em resumed his grip on his seat. Jack told him that they were only about thirty minutes from landing in Alaska. “We’re gonna refuel and pick up a few soldiers.” Jack learned all this in the few seconds he had been gone. Morton instructed him to return to his seat and not be frightened. Em closed his eyes again and wished silently that he were in Hawaii already.

The landing of the airplane was unspectacular. The roar of the engines was louder, but the payload inside the plane remained securely in place. As the plane decelerated, Em could feel the wheels turning on the ground. Then the roar of the engines began to diminish. As the plane finally came to a complete stop, both he and Jack began to feel relaxed for the first time in hours.

Em’s first experience flying had not been exactly as he had imagined. He had enjoyed it more than he could have thought. Even though he was happy to be on the ground, he could not wait to fly again. He unbuckled himself and stood up. Jack was doing the same. As he stretched and tried to awaken his entire body, he thought of something. “Hey, Jack,” but he only heard the muffled sound of his own voice. He reached up and removed the plugs from his ears. He actually did not feel them in his ears anymore. “Hey. You remember the day Colonel Roth was in the barracks and Sergeant Cannon said he may be flying part of the way with us? I never thought about it much with everything else we were worried about. Do you think he meant here, from Alaska? I mean, he ain’t what we’re picking up, is he? If it is, how did he get here? Why is he going with us? I want to know more about what we’re getting ourselves into. What do you think, Jack?” Em said all this with little more than one breath.

Jack, never one to get too excited, just stood by casually, leaning against the side of the plane. “If you would shut up and calm down, I believe we are about to find out.”

Morton and Smith began to move around. The hatch of the plane was opening. Smith motioned for them to follow him. The first thing Em noticed was the temperature. It seemed as if they had landed at the North Pole. Em had assumed that since it was June, it would not be so cold, but apparently, summer had not arrived here yet. The temperature was most definitely below freezing. Em began to turn around to make his way to his duffel bag. Morton noticed Em’s retreat and assured him he would not need his gear. He said they would only be outside long enough to go from the plane to inside the hangar. He made his way from the plane to the ground. He felt like he was heavier.

He looked around and decided it must be morning here because the landscape did not seem to be awake. He could see a barren field beyond the runway. In the distance, he saw snow-covered peaks. He felt as if he had landed on another planet. This could not be more unlike home, he thought. The only other thing visible was a lone structure, which stood a couple of hundred feet away. It looked like every other hangar he had ever seen. Yet somehow, this one looked foreboding as it stood alone with its doors closed tight.

They followed the two members of the flight crew across the frozen ground and entered the hangar from the side. Directly inside the door was a small room where cold weather gear was apparently stored. Boots were piled in the corner and parkas hung, overlapped, from nails on the wall. Since none of the airmen had any clothing to be removed, they proceeded through the next set of doors. Em thought he would be walking into a cavernous hangar, but the door led to a long hallway. He felt as though he were in one of the administration buildings back in Texas. Morton led the way and seemed to know exactly where he was going.

“What about Cannon, Jack? Do you think he is here?” Em spoke in a whisper. He was not sure exactly why.

“No. I don’t,” Jack whispered back. “I think too much has happened in the past few days. I think everybody’s plans got screwed up.” As soon as he said this, he sprinted ahead to catch up with Morton. “Hey. How long are we going to be here?” Jack asked him.

“Couple hours. We’re waiting on a couple of things. You guys are going to wait in here. You can get something to eat if you want. We’ll be back to get you when we’re ready.” Morton led them into one of the dozens of doors that opened off the hallway.

The room was full of tables with a small kitchen area to one side. There were dishes on some of the tables and dirt on the floor. It was clear that this was the cafeteria; however, Em was not so sure he wanted to eat here. He and Jack made their way to what turned out to be the only clean table. Morton walked past them into the kitchen. He began to talk to an old woman who was standing by a sink. She had a towel and a large pot in her hands. She glanced at Em and Jack and then began drying the steel pot in her hands. Morton stood behind her and massaged her shoulders. He said something to her that made her laugh, revealing a toothless grin.

Over an hour later, he and Jack still sat at the table where Morton and Smith had left them. The old woman remained the only other person in the room. She continued with washing pan after pan along with several handfuls of silverware. Every now and then, she would go to the stove and stir something, which Em thought smelled heavenly. Never did she acknowledge the two airmen. Em and Jack were discussing their situation once again. Both remained clueless as to what they were actually going to be doing. Each of them had come to their own conclusion about Sergeant Cannon. Neither one thought that he would be joining them here. They felt rather confident about this. Whether or not he was to become part of their crew remained yet to be seen. Em believed that the previous couple of weeks’ events would have certainly changed a few agendas.

Em looked at Jack, sitting opposite of him at their table. His back was to the old woman. He was very surprised when she walked up behind him. “You eat now,” she began. She carried two overflowing plates. Food of many different colors was upon them. Em recognized the corn, but the rest of the plate was covered with what must be some sort of stew. The old woman sat the plates in front of them. She then turned quickly around and began to clear the other tables. Jack and Em picked up their forks and began to eat. It was obvious that they were eating seafood of some sort. There were white chunks of fish surrounded by vegetables and gravy. Both airmen were very hungry, so they spoke little.

As the old woman loaded her arms and began to make her way to the kitchen, they heard her say, “Two boys eat. Sergeant Cannon say he want you two be happy. You eat now. He be here soon.”

Both airmen looked up from their plates and stared at each other.

“What you mean?” Jack began. He never realized he was using broken English but corrected himself nevertheless. “Excuse me, ma’am, but do you know Sergeant Cannon?”

“You eat. No time talk.” She grinned her toothless grin and continued on her way to the sink.

Em looked at Jack, and they both said at the same time, “He is here!”

You really think he’s coming with us?” Em spoke to Jack, but then he answered his own question. “I guess he really is. He’s probably here already.”

Jack continued to stuff food into his mouth. His cheeks were as full as Em had ever seen them. He was using a spoon, and it never seemed to cease shoveling the food in. When Em looked at his friend’s plate, over half of the food was gone. Em thought that Jack looked as if he did not care that Sergeant Cannon was probably here in Alaska. Em was always astonished at the way Jack could seem so detached from a situation. “Don’t you even care?” Em asked him.

“Nothin’ I can do about it whether he’s here or not, so I figured I would just keep eating.” His food was almost gone now.

“But if he is here, then he is coming,” Em said.

“So?” was Jack’s reply.

They continued to eat in silence. Em continued to ponder their situation. Jack told him that he thought about things too much. Jack just looked like he was hungry. Em thought about Cannon. What is he doing here really? How did he get here? Where is he coming from? Why couldn’t he just have come by the same route as me and Jack? Another thing, what was his connection to Colonel Roth, other than being his brother-in-law? How had he saved Roth’s life? Em began to feel overwhelmed again and was astonished at Jack’s indifference. He returned his attention to the food on his plate. Jack had finished every morsel on his. He mindlessly moved his fork from plate to mouth while thinking about what lie ahead for them. Jack still had the unconcerned look on his face that Em had seen so many times before. Jack was now picking his teeth.

“I really need some answers soon, or I think I’ll go mad,” Em finally broke the silence.

“Let it go, Storybook,” Jack said. “Before you know it, we’ll be in paradise. And what else matters after that? Think about it. Blue ocean, beaches, island girls with grass skirts. What else could possibly concern you? Relax. Finish your meal. We’ll be back on that plane soon whether Cannon is with us or not. Then, in a few short hours, we will land in paradise.”

“Boom Boom be here soon.” They had not even heard the old woman as she approached. “He say you two his new crew.” Jack and Em turned to look at her. She was smiling. “Boom Boom say feed you, and he come get you.”

“How long has he been here?” Em asked the toothless woman.

“He come yesterday. I make him eat. He too skinny. He tell me. Wait for two more and feed them.” She carried an armload of dirty dishes into the kitchen.

Em and Jack got up and cleared their own table. They followed her to the sink. They began to bombard her with questions. “How do you know him? How did he get here? Where is he now? Can we see him?”

She just laughed and threw towels at them. “You here, you dry pans.” The airmen did not care as long as she answered their questions. They would dry as many pans as she wanted. She continued to laugh her infectious laugh and said, “He tell me you two ask questions. I know nothing. He be here soon. You ask him.” The airmen were perplexed and continued drying the pots and pans. Em’s mind was wandering again. He was making a list inside his head: (1) “Roth and Cannon are brothers-in-law”; (2) “Cannon saved Roth’s life. When? Where? How?”; (3) “The scar on Cannon’s back, did it happen when he saved Roth’s life?”; (4) “Why are they training in Hawaii?”; (5) “Why top secret? After all, they were only eighteen”; (6) “Why did the crew on the plane tell them to pay attention?”; and (7) “Why couldn’t their families know where they were going?”

His list could have gone on forever if Jack hadn’t said, “I think that one’s dry.” Jack stung Em with his towel.

Em just moved aside and said, “I was just thinking.”

“I keep telling you. That’s your problem. You think too much.” Jack coiled up his towel and stung Em once more. “We’ll find out sooner or later, probably sooner. You heard her. ‘Boom Boom be here soon.’”

Em had to laugh. He found it ridiculous to think of Cannon as Boom Boom. He would definitely have to find out where that came from. No sooner was he thinking this, Sergeant Cannon walked through the cafeteria door.

“Find out about what, Turner?”

Jack, who had his back to the doorway, jumped vertically and horizontally simultaneously. It looked like his arms were trying to separate themselves from his torso. Quick as ever, Jack landed at attention and said, “Sorry, Sergeant Cannon, sir. But the lady told us, and well, you can imagine!”

“It’s all right, Florida. It’s time I come a little clean with you, guys. Hey, Kikimo. What you got in that pot?” He walked away as cool and calm as was his approach. He hugged his old friend. She grinned even bigger than before, revealing more of her gums.

“Well,” Jack said, and then he punched Em’s arm, “if you ever let anyone sneak up on me like that again…” Here he stammered. “Well…don’t…”

“Guess we’re finally going to get some answers.” Em heard his own lips say. Although this was what he wanted, he suddenly felt overwhelmed about what he was getting ready to hear. Both airmen continued to wipe the pans dry, but now neither of them would have seen anyone approaching from the front or rear because both of them looked deep in thought. Cannon continued to speak to his old friend. He had already begun to eat the fish stew in front of him.

When the meal was finished and the kitchen began to look worthy of inspection, the boys found themselves sitting across from the man who would become their friend. Cannon, looking as sharp as always, lay his fork on the table and wiped his mouth. “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for Kiki’s stew. I had her make it special for you two. Like it?”

Jack and Em stuttered their agreement without changing the looks on their faces.

“Sorry,” Cannon said. “I know you’re a little anxious, but let’s talk a minute.” He almost demanded calmness with his tranquility. He asked them about their trip from Texas. He especially wanted to know about the trip from San Francisco to Alaska. He asked them more questions than either of them felt like answering, but both of them continued to smile and remained as calm as possible. Em was ready to scream and knew that he must look ready to scream also. Cannon finally leaned back in his chair and said, “Where do I begin?” He sighed and landed his chair back on all four legs and arose from it. He then began to pace back and forth.

The airmen looked at each other, and then they both looked up to Sergeant Cannon. Suddenly, Jack blurted, “How ’bout that scar on your back? Where’d you get that?”

Sergeant Cannon began to laugh. “Anything you could ask and that’s what you want to know about?”

Em looked at Jack, and he too wondered exactly where that question had come from.

Jack saw the look on Em’s face. “Sorry, Em, but that’s what was in my head.”

Em shook his head and laughed as he said, “Let me ask next time.”

The mood in the room instantly became warmer. Cannon told them that, indeed, that was part of his story, but he was unsure where to begin.

Kikimo emerged from behind a row of shelves and poked Sergeant Cannon’s arm. “You tell them about day you meet me.”

Sergeant Cannon looked at her and said, “That’s as good a place as any. Thanks, Mama Kiko.”

Sergeant Cannon began to speak, and the airmen settled into their chairs. “In 1922, when I was just sixteen years old, I enlisted in the United States Army.” He explained how the army was having difficulty enlisting new recruits. The economy was strong, and war had been so recent that any able-bodied young man could enter, no matter how young, even at sixteen. He left home and found himself in Biloxi, Mississippi, before he could change his mind. He spent months training as though the war had not ended. He began to wonder what in the world could he have been thinking. After basic training, he remained in the mosquito-infested South for three long hot summer months. When he saw the notice on the bulletin board while visiting the base hospital, he stopped to read the alluring words, “Are you tired of the mosquitoes?” He was instantly interested. As he read the second line, which was written in much smaller print, he became aware of the need the author must have felt was necessary to get anyone to keep reading. The notice was offering a chance of adventure. Leave the mosquito-infested coast and reach out into a new territory. “Come to Alaska,” the paper read. The army was looking for volunteers to accept duty in Alaska. Construction was underway in a remote section of the US territory. Airfields were being cleared, and a major port was establishing itself.

Young Jeffrey Cannon was sold. It sounded like adventure to him, and as long as he stayed here in Mississippi, he could not see it happening. Two short weeks later, he was on a train, headed for the Pacific Northwest. From San Francisco, he would travel by naval vessel to the islands just west of mainland Alaska, in the Bering Strait. After weeks at sea—it seemed as if the navy enjoyed tormenting their army counterparts—the small ship arrived, and young Jeffrey said to himself, “No, I guess there won’t be many mosquitoes here.” He was led into a large metal building and shown to the food preparation area—because it could hardly be called a kitchen. That was the day he ate the best fish he had ever eaten.

Kikimo looked about the same then as she did now. Whether she ever had teeth was questionable. When she smiled at young Jeffrey, he began to feel slightly homesick. She immediately put him at ease with her warmness and affectionate, motherly smile—even though it was toothless. “Oh, look. You just a baby. You have no whiskers. What this army do? Put babies up here at top of world.” She slid a plate under his nose and put her hands on his shoulders. “You eat now. Mamason take care of you. Make you fat like seal.”

So this was how Jeffrey Cannon met Mama Kiko. For the next few months, he enjoyed her cooking more than any other part of Alaska. After all, there was not much to enjoy in the barren, icy Alaskan islands. Mama Kiko became the mother he never had. She seemed to adopt him because of his youthful appearance. She called him her baby. Young Jeffrey allowed her to mother him. He was so lonely and homesick for a place that had never actually felt like a home. Back in Kentucky, his mother had died when he was only six years old. He hardly had any memory of her. For this reason, he allowed Mama Kiko to “adopt” him.

He remained excited about the adventure he was sure to have up here at the top of the world. However, after months of loneliness and watching eighteen hours of dark turn to eighteen hours of light per day, he wondered if any excitement were even possible in such a remote place. As June approached and the daylight seemed endless, he thought he might die of boredom. Then he began to hear rumors announcing that the president of the United States, Warren G. Harding, was coming to pay a visit. The president was supposed to be on a fishing holiday but had decided to check on the progress of the Aleutian Island’s ports and airfields. It was the most exciting thing to ever happen to young recruit Cannon. Little did he know just how exciting things would get.

As the day of President Harding’s arrival drew near, preparations were made, and banners were even hung. No one knew where the banners came from, but they were hung outside the one and only building on site. On the day of the arrival, all personnel were to be at attention near the airstrip. This did not please the ninety-three men who had all volunteered for this assignment. Young Jeffrey was near the front row when he saw the plane drop from the clouds and begin to descend toward the newly constructed airfield.

The plane was small. At first, Jeffrey could not believe just how small it was. With the mountain range behind it, the plane looked miniscule. As it descended even farther, it became aware that something was amiss. The plane was rocking back and forth a little too much. Having never seen such a small flying vehicle before, no one seemed to realize just what trouble the aircraft was having. Then the plane’s wheels touched the ground. It bounced directly back into the air. As it wobbled from left to right, it descended once more. The wheels touched the ground again, and the pilot lost all control. Before anyone could react, the plane veered left of the strip and began to spin on a patch of ice near the water’s edge. In a matter of seconds, the plane disappeared completely into the water. The entire formation of soldiers ran to where the water was swallowing the small plane. Young Jeffrey was the first one to reach the downed craft. He did not hesitate at all. He jumped into the icy waters. He was followed by at least three others. When he would remember this later, he could never remember feeling the coldness of the nearly frozen water.

He felt like he was moving through molasses. It took forever to reach the metal doors. The plane’s tail was starting to sink. He could see the president trying to free himself from his restraints. The pilot did not seem to be conscious. The other soldiers were at the door with him and pushed young Jeffrey aside. The door came open, and before he could reach up to grab the handle, the president was jumping out. The other soldiers were trying to lead him back onto the ice while the rest of the men watched. Cannon looked once again at the doomed pilot and reached for the door. Pulling himself into the plane was very difficult. The next few moments were very intense. The restraints that were holding the unconscious pilot were nearly impossible to unhook with his freezing fingers; however, he managed to get them loose enough to pull the pilot through. He screamed for someone to help, but when he looked back through the door, he was alone inside the sinking craft. He pulled the poor pilot toward the door of the aircraft, screaming, “Wake up! Wake up!” How could it be that no one was returning to help? He was starting to panic. As he pulled the pilot toward the opening, the entire plane plunged farther under the numbing waters. The opening was half submerged. Young Cannon lurched forward with his entire strength, trying to push the pilot through the opening. He felt as though he was pushing watermelon through a keyhole. Just when he began to make a little progress—both of his feet were now dangling in the water—two hands grabbed the pilot. The hands pulled the pilot free and reached back for Jeffrey. The plane creaked loudly and began to roll onto its side. It suddenly sank a couple more feet. Jeffrey was thrown into the rear of the craft. He looked toward the opening and realized that he was going to have to go underwater to free himself. Without taking time to think, he dove into the icy water and frantically grabbed hold of the doorframe. He pulled his entire weight forward and kicked his heavy feet. Just when he reached the opening, he lost consciousness.

He later learned that the plane had broken into two pieces. The rear section of the plane had practically dissected him. The metal had ripped through layers of clothing and sliced him from his shoulder, down across his back, to just above his tailbone. The force of the plane had pushed his body to the surface where he was rescued along with the pilot and the president of the United States.

When he awoke, he was lying in a bed inside the building. His surroundings assured him that he was still in Alaska. He immediately asked how long he had been unconscious. He was told that he had been out for almost forty-eight hours. He remembered everything up to when the president jumped out. Everything else seemed to be somewhat blurred.

In the bed beside him lay another young man. He was sleeping. When Jeffrey coughed to clear his throat, the man woke up. “Welcome back. I was sure hoping you’d make it. I’m Lieutenant Philip Roth. I think you saved my life.”

The following few days were filled with visits from every officer on the entire post. It seems he had emerged from the water a hero. He felt confused and smaller somehow. With all the attention he was receiving, he forgot all about the president. The young lieutenant next to him assured him that President Harding would know his name. The president had already returned to San Francisco by boat.

The president had handpicked Lieutenant Philip Roth to be his pilot. President Harding had only recently begun to travel by plane. He chose Lieutenant Roth over hundreds of other young officers. The lieutenant’s injuries were minor, but he remained in Alaska to meet the young man who had saved his life. Philip was not much older than Jeffrey. The soldiers became friends on the first day they spoke to each other.

“Seriously, you are the president’s personal pilot?” Jeffrey asked on the morning after he woke up.

“It was only our third flight, so I doubt if that will be my title much longer,” Lieutenant Roth answered.

The soldiers talked for hours and were only interrupted when Kikimo would bring food. She would smile at both of them and tell them they were too skinny. Lieutenant Roth called her Mama Kiko after knowing her less than twenty-four hours. Jeffrey told Philip of his desire for adventure and begged him to use his influence to get him a more interesting assignment. Philip promised to do all he could. Philip remained in Alaska for the next two months, awaiting a new aircraft. The president had written and assured him he still had a job. At the end of July, he learned that President Harding was still in San Francisco. He had developed pneumonia and was recovering there. On August 2, Philip heard the news by telegraph. President Warren G. Harding had suffered a stroke and died. Two days later, a letter arrived asking Lieutenant Roth to fly the president’s body back to Washington. He showed the letter to Jeffrey. “This is too much.” He looked at his new friend and added, “How could this have happened?”

Jeffrey could not think of anything appropriate to say, so he just said, “It will be all right.”

“How do you know that?” Lieutenant Roth spoke out loud but did not seem to be waiting for a reply. Two days later, he flew back to San Francisco, promising Jeffrey that he would get him out of Alaska soon.

True to his promise, Corporal Cannon left Alaska in December of 1923 en route to his new assignment, as close to Alaska as any other US holding but as far from Alaskan climate as was possible. The islands of Hawaii were as picturesque as all the still photographs he had seen. Everything felt so serene and remote. All the people seemed so content all the time.

Later in life, when he remembered this time, it seemed as it had happened the day before. The memories were a permanent part of him.

The next few months were the best of times and the worst of times. From every beach to every jungle, young Cannon hopped from island to island, training night and day, for a job he could not imagine. He trained hard and quickly excelled to the top of his class. The special operations team that he was assigned to was code-named C-Unit. President Coolidge had signed off on all his missions so far. The pilot of his team, Captain Philip Roth, flew them into the jungles of South America. Citizens were unaware of these missions. The two men became lifelong friends. When Jeffrey introduced Philip to his sister, their friendship changed forever. His friend Philip had just become his brother.

Throughout the rest of the decade, the pilot and the soldier became not only friends but also partners in a sense. They looked after each other as best they could. Philip married Margaret in 1926 and had a daughter the same year. Uncle Jeffrey could not have been happier for his friend.

In 1932, Philip accepted a new assignment in Washington DC while Jeffrey continued in special operations. The two friends’ military paths would not cross again until December of 1941.

Sergeant Cannon paused and seemed to be remembering something of particular interest. Jack and Em remained motionless in their chairs, mesmerized by every word. Neither of them could comprehend what they were hearing. Questions erupted inside their heads; however, before they could start asking, Morton returned and announced, “All aboard.”

Em realized this was not the appropriate call to board an airplane, but nevertheless, the message was understood. Sergeant Cannon stopped pacing, and his demeanor changed to professionalism. “Ready, you two? There’ll be plenty of time for questions later. We better find our gear. It gets mighty cold at ten thousand feet.” He hugged his Mama Kiko and told her he would see her again. Jack and Em followed him through the mazelike hallways of the hangar, both of them silent except for their obvious rapid breathing.

Em felt like the walls were surrounding him. What exactly were he and Jack getting into? Were they seriously going to go on secret missions authorized by the president? Sergeant Cannon seemed to be implying that. Training so intense it’s done in secret. Colonel Roth was a pilot and a real good one. He had flown with presidents. What could he want with two boys fresh out of basic training? It seemed that in answering their questions, Cannon had merely succeeded in creating a whole batch of new ones. First things first, Em thought. Let’s get to Hawaii and get this show started.

Cannon talked more during their long flight; however, because of the noise, Em could only understand the words he spoke when he was looking right at his lips. Every time he turned toward Jack, all Em could hear was a distant muffled voice. When they reached Hawaii, boot camp would begin all over again. Only this time, it would include parachute training along with survival skills preparedness training. If they made it through this training, they would then be trained on the aircraft. Sergeant Cannon did not say what type of aircraft. As to what sort of missions they would be assigned, they knew better than to ask.

Em felt thrilled to actually be on his way but frightened nonetheless. There were still so many questions in his mind. Most of all, he wanted to know when he could tell his family and Irene where he was. He wanted to tell Irene everything. He reached into his bag that he was now carrying with him and retrieved his journal. He began to write for the first time in days. He did not know if or when Irene would ever get to read the words that he was putting on the paper, but he felt a sense of relief with every word he wrote. The plane’s dull drone began to make his eyelids heavy. He put his pen down. He closed his eyes and, for the first time in over a week, fell asleep to thoughts of Irene and the white dress.

“Wake up, Storybook; you got to see this!” Jack’s eyes were bulging from his skull. “You are not gonna believe this! Take a look!” Jack pointed to a small window toward the front of the plane. Em unbuckled and at first felt a little dizzy and unbalanced. He rose slowly to his feet and commanded himself to move toward the front of the plane. He suspected his legs were going to be slow to cooperate. He looked once again at Jack, who looked completely at ease with his situation. Grinning from ear to ear while he prodded Em forward, he said, “The pilot says we can fly right overtop of it!” Em could not imagine what he was about to see.

He leaned toward the small window—which was not exactly like a window—and squinted into the bright sunlight. He saw nothing at first, only small wisps of clouds in the distance. He strained his neck to look down and could barely make out the blue-and-white floor of the ocean surface. Then he saw the most amazing sight his eyes had ever seen. There below him was an island. The mountain in the center was glowing.

The low altitude made the volcano’s lava look like a brilliant fiery river. The pilot was flying them directly over the summit of one of the Hawaiian Islands’ many active volcanoes. Jack poked Em in his ribs. “How ’bout that, hillbilly? Never seen anything like that before!” Em could not stop staring. The sight under their wings was truly the most awesome event he had ever witnessed. “I talked to Captain Meyer!” Jack was speaking into Em’s ear from a mere few inches. “He said these islands just keep getting bigger! The lava never stops creating new land! I can’t wait to get down there! This is it, Em!” They looked back toward the rear of the plane, and Morton was waving his arms. Evidently, it was time to land this thing.

The second time that Em and Jack were on an aircraft as it returned to the earth was quite different from their first. The initial thing they noticed was the temperature. As the giant cargo vessel lost altitude, the temperature rose. Before they were on the ground, the airmen wished they had removed their cold weather gear. By the time the plane had nearly come to a stop, Em and Jack were sweating profusely. It surprised them to see the six other people that were on the plane disembark in only their flight overalls. Neither Em nor Jack had seen anyone remove his heavy winter gear.

As they exited through the rear of the plane, the sunshine was so bright they were temporarily blinded. As Em’s squinting eyes began to adjust, he looked out across the airstrip at the greenest picture he had ever seen. Even the hills of Kentucky had never looked so green. The colors of everything seemed to be brighter here. He could count at least ten different shades of green.

They were following Sergeant Cannon. He had not said a thing to them since the engines had stopped, and he declared, “Welcome to paradise.” Now he was almost running across the flight line.

They trotted to keep up. They were not worried about their gear. Sergeant Cannon’s gear was also on the plane. Jack and Em were trotting and removing clothes at the same time. Sergeant Cannon looked as crisp as ever in his olive drab fatigue uniform. He walked with a purpose heading for the enormous opening in the aircraft hangar that stood before them. As if he had been raised here, Sergeant Cannon headed straight through the building and beyond the back wall. He walked through another set of doors and proceeded into a hallway. His brisk pace led them to believe that he knew exactly where he was going.

No one else from the plane was following. They walked toward another door at the end of the hallway. When they walked through, the only thing they saw was a jeep and more of the green landscape. Sergeant Cannon jumped into the driver’s seat and said, “Hop in, boys.”