If that happened, Lieutenant Power-or Captain Power, whatever he was-would probably set the minimum time record for the Marine Aviator getting his ashes hauled after arrival in the Territory of Hawaii.
But in the meantime, Mary Agnes made it plain that Lieutenant Bill Dunn was all that her heart-and other anatomical parts-desired. This was not because she found him a charming companion, or even an outstanding lover, but because he looked, as she often told him, just like an actor named Alan Ladd.
Dunn knew that if he really wanted to break it off with Mary Agnes, he could do it relatively easily. He could just call her and say that he had the duty and could not make it over to Pearl. She was dumb, but she was capable of understanding that. He was convinced that if he did this five nights in a row, say, no matter how determined she was not "to cheat" on him, she would have a snifter or two of Hennessey VSOP, her blood would start to boil, and some other soul would find himself sneaking up the back stairs to Room Eleven, Female Officer's Quarters Fourteen.
But in his own eyes he had no character. Or phrased less delicately, he was letting his dick do his thinking for him. He made "Sorry, I have the duty" telephone calls at least four times-for two nights in a row, twice. But that was as far as logic could go, vis-…-vis overwhelming the sinful lusts of the flesh.
No matter how high his original resolve and how firm his original intentions, by the third day, he was unable to refute the whispers in his ear, Billy-Boy, they are not pulling your chain with that "Live Today For Tomorrow We Die" shit. The piece of ass you are so casually rejecting may well be the last piece you are ever offered. Tomorrow morning, you may crash inflames. Or they may tell you to get your ass aboard a carrier; and away you will sail to your hero's death. With that in mind, does it really make any sense to spend your last night alive or ashore in your room with a portable radio for company, when you can play Hide the Salami and other games in Mary Agnes's perfumed bed?
Dunn noticed First Lieutenant David Schneider within sixty seconds or so of the moment Schneider walked into the bar of the Main Club. Schneider caught Dunn's attention because he was wearing a white uniform. Officers wearing white uniforms outnumbered officers wearing greens about ten to one, but Schneider's white uniform was the only one-Marine or Navy-with gold Naval Aviator's wings pinned to it.
I wonder who that horse's ass is? was Bill Dunn's first thought. If you were an aviator, you could get away with not wearing whites.
His second thought immediately followed the first: He probably just got here. He's probably, as a matter-of-fact, one of the two we got today.
When Dunn had signed out in the squadron office for the Main Club at Pearl Harbor, PFC Hastings told him VMF-229 had two new officer pilots.
"If you don't stop that, I'm going to bust my zipper," First Lieutenant Dunn said quietly to Lieutenant (j.g.) O'Malley, removing her hand from his crotch.
"Promises, promises," she replied and pursed her lips at him.
"Excuse me," he said, getting up.
"Where are you going?"
"I think the guy in whites down at the end of the bar is one of ours," he said. "I'll be right back."
Mary Agnes looked toward the end of the bar and saw First Lieutenant David Schneider.
"Oh, he's cute!" she exclaimed, "He looks just like John Garfield."
Dunn reached Schneider in time to see the bartender fill the lieutenant's glass with ginger ale. He was a little surprised, because there was no darker liquid already in the glass.
"Good evening," Dunn said.
Schneider nodded an acknowledgment, but did not speak.
"Is your name John Garfield, by any chance?"
"No, it is not."
"Just get in? To VMF-229 by any chance?"
Dunn saw that the question made the lieutenant uncomfortable.
Obviously, he can't answer that question. Japanese ears are everywhere. Loose lips sink ships. And I probably look like a Jap spy in disguise.
"My name is Dunn. I'm Exec of VMF-229."
"Oh," Schneider said, straightening. "Yes, Sir. My name is Schneider, Sir. I reported aboard today, Sir."
Dunn gave him his hand.
"How do you do, Sir?"
"I heard there were two of you?"
"Yes, Sir. Lieutenant Jim Ward was on the same set of orders."
"He here with you?"
"No, Sir. I believe he stayed aboard Ewa."
"Oh, now I know who you are. The Skipper stole you from Quantico, right?"
"We were stationed at Quantico, yes, Sir."
"Now, don't misunderstand this. This is a simple suggestion. I'm about to return to Ewa. I have a car. If you need a ride?"
"Yes, Sir, thank you very much. Actually, I came in here hoping to get a ride."
"Well, then, come on down the bar while I finish my drink."
"Won't I be in the way, Sir? Two's company, and so on?"
"Not at all," Bill Dunn said. "The lady and I are just friends."
This is despicable of you, Billy Dunn. But on the other hand, what a clever sonofabitch you are sometimes.
"Lieutenant O'Malley, may I present Lieutenant Schneider, who joined the squadron today?"
"Pleased to meet you, I'm sure," Mary Agnes said. "Did anyone ever tell you you look just like John Garfield?"
Dave Schneider flushed. "No, I can't say that anyone has."
"Don't you think he does, Bill?"
"Spitting image," Bill Dunn said. He was pleased to see that Lieutenant Schneider did not seem to be able to keep his eyes away from Mary Agnes's tunic, where her bosom placed quite a strain against the material; it sort of made her gold buttons stand to attention.
He beckoned to the bartender.
"We'll have a round," he said.
"Sir," Dave Schneider said uncomfortably, "I was led to believe we'd be flying tomorrow."
"One cognac won't hurt you," Bill Dunn said. "And we can't welcome you aboard with ginger ale."
"Yes, Sir," Dave Schneider said.
"And another part of the welcome aboard ritual is a dance with Lieutenant O'Malley," Dunn said. "Mary Agnes is something like the squadron mascot, isn't that so, Mary Agnes?"
"Oh, it is not," she said. "You make me sound like a cocker spaniel. But I do like to dance."
How about a bitch in heat?
(Two)
HEADQUARTERS, RAN COASTWATCHER ESTABLISHMENT
TOWNESVILLE, QUEENSLAND
1945 HOURS 15 JULY 1942
Both Major Ed Banning, commanding officer of U.S. Marine Corps Special Detachment 14, and Lieutenant Commander Eric Feldt, Officer Commanding, Royal Australian Navy Coast Watcher Establishment, were waiting at the small Townesville air strip when the Royal Australian Air Force Lockheed Hudson came in low over the sea and touched down.
As the twin engine bomber-transport taxied to a parking place, Banning put the Studebaker President in gear and bounced over the grass to it.
By the time the rear door opened, and Captain Fleming Pickering, USNR, was emerging from it, Banning and Feldt were standing on either side of the spot where his feet would alight. After Feldt saluted elaborately, in the British palm-out manner, the hand quivering, he barked, "Sir!"