Lieutenant Schneider was now sure what Sergeant Galloway was up to. It fit in with everything he had heard. There was nothing wrong with the engine. Galloway did not want to go to Lakehurst because there was nothing, in his own words, at Lakehurst in February but one of the world’s largest buildings, a dozen blimps, and a lot of snow. Period.
What was outside of Willow Grove Naval Air Station was the city of Philadelphia. And in Philadelphia there were a lot of bars where Galloway could get drunk and punch out a shore patrolman, for which, Colonel Hershberger had made it absolutely clear, they would be held responsible.
Schneider motioned to Ward to come close, covered his mouth with his hand, and said, "We have to talk."
Galloway greased the R4D onto the runway, then reached for the microphone again.
"Willow Grove, Two-Six-Two. We’ll need some gas, and I’d like a mechanic to check out one of my engines, please."
"Two-Six-Two, take taxiway C, and taxi to the transient area by the tower. A fuel truck and a maintenance crew will meet you there."
"Thank you very much, Willow Grove."
"We flew right over my house," Lieutenant Ward said.
"We did?" Galloway said.
"I live in Jenkintown," Lieutenant Ward said.
"Well, I guess that means you can go home for supper, huh?" Galloway said.
"Sergeant Galloway," Lieutenant Schneider said, with what he hoped was the appropriate combination of courtesy and firmness, "if the engine checks out all right, I think we should go on to Lakehurst."
"Jesus, Dave, why?" Lieutenant Ward said. "I don’t live fifteen minutes from here."
Schneider gave him a look of mingled disgust and fury.
"In fact, Sergeant," Schneider said, "I’m afraid I must insist that we do so."
"You don’t have the right to insist on anything, Dave," Lieutenant Ward said furiously. "You heard what Colonel Hershberger said. So far as the airplane and the mission are concerned, Sergeant Galloway’s in charge."
"Goddamn it! Can’t you see what’s going on?" Schneider flared. "He doesn’t want to go to Lakehurst! You heard what he said about Lakehurst! What he wants is a night on the town. That’s why he landed here. There’s nothing wrong with that engine."
"Let’s hope not," Sergeant Galloway said innocently.
"Then we’re going to fly on to Lakehurst?" Schneider snapped.
"If we could, and I say if. then Lieutenant Ward wouldn’t get to go home," Galloway said reasonably.
"So what?" Schneider snapped.
"That engine sounded a little rough to me, too," Lieutenant Ward said solemnly. "I think we better have it checked out pretty carefully."
The two Navy mechanics who came out to the R4D were accompanied by a gold-stripe Chief Naval Aviation Pilot. He saluted Lieutenants Ward and Schneider and shook hands cordially with Sergeant Galloway.
"What seems to be the trouble?"
"The port engine sounded a little rough," Galloway said. "I thought it best to sit down and have an expert look at it."
"Good thinking!" the Chief said. "I’ll have a look at it myself."
That sonofabitch did everything but wink at Galloway,Dave Schneider thought furiously. He knows exactly what’s going on! Two goddamn birds of a feather flocking together!
The mechanics backed their pickup truck under the wing and started to remove nacelle panels.
Schneider took Ward’s arm and led him out of hearing.
"You know damned well what’s going on here, Jim," he said. "Galloway wants a night on the town. There’s nothing wrong with that engine."
"I’d like to go home," Ward said.
"And let him go out on the town? You heard Hershberger. We’re responsible for his conduct."
"We can take him with us," Ward said.
"What do you mean?"
"We all go to my house. We have dinner, a couple of drinks, and then we all come back here together. I’d like to see my girl. And I’m sure she has a friend."
"We can’t go out in public with him. To a restaurant or a bar, you know that. Officers cannot socialize with enlisted men."
"So we don’t go to a restaurant or a bar," Ward said. "We go to my house. I repeat, we don’t let him out of our sight."
Dave Schneider grunted.
The Chief Aviation Pilot, surprising Lieutenant Dave Schneider not at all, returned from his mechanic’s initial inspection of the port engine to report that they could find nothing wrong with it, but that in the interests of safety, he thought it would be a good idea if they drained the engine oil and had a look at it. That way they would know for sure. That would take an hour or an hour and a half; so why didn’t they just RON here and take off first thing in the morning? The initials were short for "remain overnight."
The Chief said he could put Sergeant Galloway up in the Chiefs quarters, and there was room in the transient BOQ for the officers.
"That’s very kind of you, Chief," Lieutenant Schneider said, "but Lieutenant Ward lives near here, and we’ll just go to his house. We’ll leave you the number, and when you find out about the engine, you call me. All right?"
The Chief Aviation Pilot shrugged and said, "Aye, aye, Sir." Tough luck, Chief! You did your best for Sergeant Galloway, but I outsmarted you.
Thirty minutes later, a wooden-sided Mercury station wagon with avisitor placard stuck against the dashboard pulled up in front of Base Operations.
"That your mother?" Dave Schneider asked.
Ward looked.
"No. It’s my Aunt Caroline," he said, and pushed open the door.
Caroline Ward McNamara, who was thirty-two, blond, longhaired, long-legged, and three months divorced, kissed her nephew and shook hands with Lieutenant Schneider and Sergeant Galloway. Charley Galloway thought that Mrs. McNamara was as beautiful and elegant as a movie star. Like Greer Garson, except with long blond hair.
"I was at the house," she said. "Your mother wanted to go to the Acme to get steaks, so I volunteered to come get you."
Any woman that beautiful has to be married. Or engaged. And even if she wasn’t, she’s a lady. She wouldn’t want to have anything to do with a Marine Sergeant.
Lieutenant Schneider and Sergeant Galloway got in the backseat of the Mercury, and Jim Ward got in front beside his aunt.
"Which airplane is yours?" she asked.
"The third one," Jim Ward said. "The one with ‘Marines’ painted on the fuselage."
"I’m impressed," Aunt Caroline said. "I didn’t know you were flying something that large."
"I’m just learning how, to tell you the truth," Jim Ward said.
"And you’re the teacher, Lieutenant Schneider? Is that it? Is Jim a good student?"
"Actually, Caroline," Jim Ward said, "Sergeant Galloway is the IP. Instructor Pilot."
Aunt Caroline shifted her head so that she could see Sergeant Galloway in the rearview mirror.
Their eyes met. Charley Galloway felt his heart jump.
"Isn’t that a little unusual?" she asked.
"No, Ma’am," Charley Galloway said.