A Glibertarians Exclusive – Too Many Goodbyes II

 

Honolulu – December 10th, 1941

The smell of smoke still pervaded Pearl Harbor.

Admiral Halsey, who had been at sea with the Pacific Fleet’s carriers during the attack, had been on the radio, angrily announcing that “…when this war is over, the Japanese language will only be spoken in Hell.”  Sally was skeptical about that.  So was Lieutenant Commander Thomas Braxton, now her fiancé, who held Sally’s hand now as they walked down Waikiki beach.

“I’ve got twelve hours liberty.” he had told Sally when he arrived unexpectedly at her apartment early that morning.  A quick phone call to a friend, and Sally had traded shifts, leaving her free until 1600.

“Have to be back on board by 1800,” Tom told her.  “I wish we could get married before I ship out, but the captain says our repairs will be completed late today.  Well, they’ll be completed well enough for us to put to sea.  So, I’ll be gone for a while – maybe when I get some time back here, I’ll be able to take enough time to get a license, to arrange with one of the chaplains to do it up proper.”

“I hope so,” Sally said quietly.  As she had predicted, Tom had proposed, even going down on one knee to do so, on a balcony overlooking a garden on the Pearl Officer’s Club grounds.  She had a ring, too, a slim gold band with a modest chip of diamond set on it.  Sally wore the ring now, on her left hand.

She hadn’t even had a whole day to enjoy her newly engaged status before their world blew up around them.  She looked at her left hand – she was holding Tom’s hand with her right – and could still see blood under her fingernails, despite the constant scrubbing.  At least the ring was clean.  She had taken a moment on Sunday morning to remove it and stash it its tiny velvet box before rushing to the hospital.

Tom had said very little about his own experiences that day.  When Sally asked, all he would say was “It wasn’t good.  I ruined a set of khakis; I can tell you that.”  His light cruiser had been strafed and suffered two near misses by Japanese bombs.  Only luck had spared it any torpedo hits.

A Day That Will Live in Infamy, the President had described it.  When Sally and Betsy had heard his gravelly voice on the radio, when he described December 7th, 1941, they could hear the capital letters thudding into place.  Her memories of that day were already a blur, images of blood, screaming men, Japanese fighters strafing, bombs falling even on the hospital grounds.  Every doctor and nurse on staff at the Navy hospital had rushed to duty, but it wasn’t enough – ten times as many wouldn’t have been enough.

As of yet the Army and Navy were still counting the dead.

The waves coming gently to shore didn’t seem to notice the new war.  Neither did the gulls squawking; neither did the wind that blew gently along the beach or the billowing clouds in the clear blue sky.  Sally looked up at one long, wispy cloud that appeared to take the faint shape of a dragon, open jaws extended to the west, towards Pearl Harbor.

Sally shivered.

“What are you going to do?” Tom asked.

“What can I do?  I’m in the Navy, Tom, just like you.  There’s a rumor going around that some doctors and nurses will be sent out to support the Marines if they land anywhere.  I suppose in the Philippines, or on Formosa, or somewhere like that.  I’ll do my part, same as you.”

Tom let go of Sally’s hand and put his arm around her.  “That’s what I expected you’d do.”

Sally leaned up against Tom’s six-foot frame.  “Do you know where they’re going to send your ship?”

“No.  And if I did know, I probably wouldn’t be able to tell you.  Chasing after Halsey’s carriers would be a good bet, but you didn’t hear that from me.”

“Hush-hush,” she agreed, and turned her face up to him for a kiss.

When they separated for a breath of air, Tom smiled.  “Well,” he said.  “That’s a memory to take with me on the ship.”

Sally slapped him lightly on the chest of his khaki shirt.  “You’d better.  And I better not hear of you taking up with any island girls anywhere out there in the broad Pacific.”

“Not me,” Tom said.  He held up two fingers.  “Scout’s honor.”

“I suppose you really were a Boy Scout?”

Tom nodded.  “Yep.  Troop 141, back in Ashtabula, by-God, Ohio.  Didn’t stick with it long.  Didn’t care for the uniform.”

“You seem to fit this one all right,” Sally said.

“Well, the money’s better.  A little better.”

Arm in arm, they walked down the beach.  Martial law was still in effect, so the stores and restaurants were for the moment, closed.  When they came to a bench, they sat.  Tom pulled a pack of Chesterfields out of his shirt pocket and, after receiving Sally’s nodded permission, lit one.

“I mean it, you know,” Tom said seriously.  He took another drag on the cigarette and blew out a smoke ring.  “About the island girls.  Or any kind of girl.  I… well, I don’t play those kinds of games anymore.”

“Any more?” Sally prompted.

“I won’t pretend, honey,” Tom said.  “And I won’t lie to you.  Ever.  I’ve had girls before.  Just like you’ve probably had boyfriends before.”

When Sally nodded, he went on.  “Just so.  But I know you were different right from the get-go.  Girls I went with before, well, it wasn’t really any big thing.  The Navy was more important.  But not you, honey.  When I met you, the first time I took you to dinner, it was like I was hit by lightning – or one of the six-inch shells from our main battery.  I knew it was different.”

“I won’t ask you to leave the Navy, Tom.”  She took the hand that bore his Academy ring.  “You’re going to be an admiral one day, I bet.”

He kissed her.  “Just another of the reasons I love you.”

The afternoon seemed to fly by.  After lunch – chicken salad sandwiches Sally extracted from her capacious handbag – they walked back up towards Ala Wai.

They paused in front of the apartment building on the canal.  “I’d better go change,” Sally said.  “I’m on shift in an hour.  The hospital’s full, they need everyone.”

Tom wrapped his arms around her.  “I’ll miss you,” he said, and kissed her.

“Dammit,” Sally said.  “You’re making me puddle up.”  She pulled a handkerchief from her bag and dabbed at her eyes.  “You be careful out there, wherever the place is you’re headed for that I can’t know about.  You made me a promise, remember.”  She held up her left hand.  “I’m going to hold you to it.”

“I keep my word,” Tom said seriously.  He kissed her again.

“It’s going to be lonely, without you around.”

“It’s going to be lonely on that ship without you.”

They shared another kiss.  Then Tom turned away and strode down the street, headed for Pearl Harbor.

 

***
Dragon clouds so high above
I’ve only known careless love
It’s always hit me from below
This time around it’s more correct
Right on target so direct
You’re gonna make me lonesome when you go.