Alicia was accompanied by her driver, Corporal Wilkins, and her guard, Corporal Henry. It was Henry's first trip to Washington and he was looking out the front passenger window like a little kid, or even a dog. She wondered if he opened the window, would he stick his head out and let his tongue hang out?
"Henry, is this really your first time here?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Alicia checked her watch. She was stretched out as far as she could in the relative comfort of the back seat with the pouch on the seat beside her. "Wilkins, are you in any great hurry to get back to the excitement of Camp Washington?"
Wilkins laughed. "Not really, lieutenant."
"Great. Let's take the scenic route and let the nice young man see where all his tax dollars are going. I think the war can wait a half hour or so."
They unnecessarily crossed the Potomac and drove slowly around the sights of their nation's capital. Henry openly gawked and exclaimed and Alicia, who'd been there a number of times, admitted that the sight of the White House, Capitol, and so many other buildings of legend never ceased to thrill her. They did think it sad that there were so many guards around key places and that sandbag embankments and anti-aircraft guns intruded so jarringly on what had once been beautiful views. Another jarring sight was the pair of buildings that housed the navy. Named the Munitions Building and the Main Navy Building, they were ugly structures that had been built near the end of the World War I and intruded onto the elegance of the Mall.
There were a few dozen protesters walking around the park across from the White House and they were watched by D.C. police. They bore signs protesting the Nazis treatment of the Jews. Alicia couldn't help but wonder if all the horrors she'd heard were true. She didn't think they could be. Not even the Nazis could be that inhuman to their fellow man. Not even Hitler. He was a madman, but no one could be that murderous. It just wasn't possible. At least she hoped it wasn't, she thought with a shudder.
Finally, they drove back across the Potomac to the Pentagon. Corporal Henry hadn't seen that either. "Jesus ma'am, that is one huge building."
"That doesn't begin to describe it," Alicia said. Henry was from Nebraska and had admitted that the largest thing he'd ever seen before being drafted was a corn silo.
Dedicated earlier that year, the Pentagon was only four stories above ground, with an additional two under, but sprawled over an immense plot of ground next to Arlington National Cemetery. Close to thirty thousand military and civilian personnel worked in the five-ringed building that was so big that she'd seen a display where the Empire State Building could lie on top of its six and a half million square feet of space. Rumor had it that FDR thought it was hideous and couldn't wait for the war to be over so he could tear it down. Alicia didn’t think that would happen. The military had found a home.
Finally, and only a little behind schedule, they pulled into a Pentagon parking lot. They passed the guards and Alicia went towards her destination, while the two corporals headed off to find something to eat. As she walked the corridors, she felt small and unimportant. Admirals and generals walked by and didn't even look at her, except for one or two who assessed her femininity.
This was only her fourth trip to the Holy of Holies and she wondered what was in the locked pouch she carried. Was it all that important? If it was, wouldn't all those generals who were ignoring her be shocked that such documents were being hauled around by a lowly first lieutenant and a woman to boot.
"Jesus, chief, that thing looks fucking deadly."
"Marty, we are on duty this weekend. Would you please remember to call me Major?"
Staff sergeant and deputy sheriff Marty Dubinski shrugged. "Sorry, chief, I mean major, but look at that damn thing."
Canfield explained to his sergeant that the damn thing was a German E-Boat. A little bit larger than an American PT boat, the low-slung craft was capable of scooting along at more than forty miles an hour, had a crew of about twenty-five, and was armed to its deadly teeth with a 37mm cannon, and several 20mm guns along with a bunch of machine guns that the German crew had added. There was one torpedo tube on each side of its hull.
"Wasn't there a law prohibiting major warships on the Great Lakes?" Dubinski asked.
Canfield focused his binoculars. The German E-boat was a half mile offshore and moving sedately at about twenty knots, easily chopping through the foot high waves. It was already moving faster than most craft on Lake Ontario. It was also many miles inside what were considered American waters. Under other circumstances, the view would be both dramatic and pretty. This day it looked ugly and menacing.
Canfield put down the binoculars and rubbed his eyes. "I read someplace that the krauts don't consider E-boats to be major warships. They say they are just like our Coast Guard cutters or PT boats."
Dubinski snorted. "That is just so much bullshit, major. Look at them torpedo tubes. Those things can sink any ship in the world and that makes them E-boats major warships in my book. I think I should write Roosevelt."
"Do that," Canfield said resignedly. Marty was always writing letters to the editor, to his congressman, and anybody else who pissed him off, which was a whole lot of people. He also thought FDR was a commie.
"So why are they out there, chief?
At that moment, one of the E-boat's 20mm guns opened up, the strident sawing-sounding noise caused the two men to drop to the ground. A few seconds later they realized that the German wasn't shooting at them and they sheepishly got to their feet. They now had a nice view of the German's stern as it turned north towards Canada.
"Okay, major, let me rephrase the question. What are they doing out there and what the hell were they shooting at?"
Canfield shook the dirt from his fatigues. "I think they were out there so close to our shore just to aggravate us. As to their shooting, I think it was also to annoy us and maybe they were getting in a little target practice. There might have been some driftwood or something that some dumb kraut thought would be good to shoot at. I just hope they didn't kill someone in the water, like some poor refugee."
There had been a significant increase in the number of people leaving Canada in the last few weeks, although only a few had left by boat. The border was open so they just packed up and crossed by car or bus. A high percentage of them were Jews who knew what was going on in Europe and who wanted to escape that awful fate. Canfield had been mildly surprised. He had no idea there were so many Jews actually in Canada, or that they were so frightened. So far, the Nazis had been letting anyone who wanted to leave go in peace, but how long would that continue? If the Germans would shoot at someone like that Grant fellow, they must have something to hide. He decided it wouldn't be long before the border was closed, and then they'd all have their hands full with refugees in boats and Germans trying to kill them.
Damn it, he thought. Life was so much simpler when all he had to worry about was the Depression and people smuggling whiskey into the U.S. before prohibition was repealed. Maybe the next time they drew duty, they'd make sure they had something more lethal than M1 rifles and.30 caliber machine guns to defend the State of New York from German warships.
"How's your arm, colonel?"
Grant winced and shifted his arm in its sling. "Actually, sergeant major, it hurts a hell of a lot more now since I let the medical staff fix it."
Sergeant Major Mort Farnum laughed. He was a short barrel of a man who'd been in the army for more than twenty years. Nobody, either enlisted or officer, wanted to get on his bad side. So far, Tom had done nothing to annoy the sergeant major.