The millimaw was moving in fast, and by the time Lana reached the hospital, snow flurries mixed with rain were swept in by the millimaw at over ninety miles an hour, the rain and snow striking the Quonset huts horizontally, the only place in the world, the transport pilots told Lana, where such a phenomenon occurred. All around she could hear the beginning of the “Aleutian wail,” which some bureaucrats in Washington, over four thousand miles away, thought was ‘‘Aleutian whale” but which was the peculiar beating and howling sound of the millimaw on the sheer basaltic cliffs and treeless slopes of the islands. She could see the double-glazed windows in the Quonset huts as square orange eyes staring out from the bleakness. Unlike the native Aleuts, some of whom still lived in their underground sod houses or barabaras and who eked out a living subsisting on reindeer and seafood, Lana knew she would never get used to the place. Were it not for the VCR and the big high-definition TV screen they had at the recreation center for the three thousand inhabitants of Dutch Harbor, she believed there would be many more cases of severe depression — to date, the most common complaint at the base hospital.
Some of the men, most of them pilots, had attempted to alleviate their boredom by trying to date her, but she had refused most. Despite the gentleness she’d experienced with William Spence, after her experience with Jay La Roche, she was still leery of men, especially when she discovered that the confidentiality of her naval file, which had spelled out the reason for her banishment, had been breached. They obviously thought she was an easy lay.
The only exception she had even thought of making was a pilot, Lieutenant Alen, who regularly flew the resupply route to the big antisubmarine base on Adak halfway along the chain and on to Shemya and Attu loran station over 420 miles farther west near the international date line between the United States and USSR. He had asked her if she had wanted to go along for a ride to see Attu. She’d said no, but he wasn’t one to be deterred, and this night as she walked into the officers’ club, she saw his boyish grin.
“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, brushing the snow off her collar.
She felt awkward. “Yes,” she said. “Hot chocolate. If that’s all right.”
“One hot chocolate coming up.” Alen ignored the guffaws of several pilots farther down the bar. Handing her the steaming mug, he asked her if she’d changed her mind about a flight — this time to Adak.
“Not particularly,” she answered, not wishing to be rude but having already seen as many of the forty-six active volcanoes in the chain as she intended.
“What’s the matter? You haven’t got a sense of history? Big battle there in forty-three. Banzai attack by the Japanese. Just kept coming against our boys.”
“Now they‘re our boys,” she said.
“Well, sort of-”
“Last I heard, they’re supposed to be on our side,” she answered.
“Support capability. Escorted our troop ships to Korea. But they’re crafty. Tokyo hasn’t actually declared war on the Soviets. Or China.”
“If they’re supporting us, aren’t they on our side?”
“What I’m saying is, they haven’t pulled out the stops. Not even with the North Koreans hitting a few of their west coast ports. Economically they’re more powerful than most, but they need oil, raw materials. If that stops, Japan stops. They want to alienate as few countries as possible.”
“Sounds like a bit of a high-wire act to me,” said Lana.
“It is. Come on, come see Adak. Your brother’s on a pig-boat, isn’t he?”
She didn’t know whether he meant Ray or Robert.
“Sub,” he explained.
“Oh, yes. He is.”
“Then it’s your patriotic duty to see Adak. Cheer the boys up. Big sub base there.”
“I was going to watch the new movie tonight.”
Alen shook his head. “There isn’t any.”
“Lieutenant,” replied Lana, “I heard it announced this morning. Some new Jane Fonda movie.”
“It got lost.”
She glanced across at him, shaking her head. “You guys. You never forget. She apologized, you know — to the Vietnam vets.”
“No, she didn’t. She said she was sorry if she upset any of them. She didn’t apologize for what she said. Still Hanoi Jane.”
“That was a long time ago, Lieutenant. Anyway, I heard Vietnam might come in on our side — if China goes up against us.”
“No one knows what China’ll do,” said Alen. “They don’t like the Russians any more than we do. Anyway, to hell with it. Let me take you to Adak.” He lowered his voice and smiled. “Maybe we can stop along the way.”
She hesitated. “I’m still married, Lieutenant.”
“Why don’t you use your married name?”
“Because I don’t like it and it’s none of your damned business.” She realized for a second that she would never have talked like that before she’d known Jay. He’d taken some of her civility along with her innocence, and she hated him as much for that as for anything else. And she’d been taught not to hate anyone.
“Sorry,” said the lieutenant. “You’re right. It’s none of my business what name you—”
She didn’t want to say any more, but something bottled up inside her kept rising. “You think I’m an easy mark?”
Alen’s eyes avoided hers, his gaze now shifting out, looking at the swirling snow. “Yeah, I did,” he conceded. He looked back at her. “I was out of line.” He walked away and opened the door, to a howl of protest from the bar, greeting the icy wind.
“Lieutenant?” she called.
He turned, shut the door, hand still on the handle, flecks of snow in his sheepskin collar. “Yes?”
“Maybe some other time,” she said.
“Sure.”
When he left the Quonset hut, Lana felt drained; a conversation like that with a man these days was harder on her than the hospital’s night shift. She always thought she’d be able to handle it better after knowing Jay, but her confidence had been so badly shaken by him, it penetrated any brave front she presented.
Arriving on the ward, she was told the head nurse wanted to see her. A rush of apprehension took hold of her. The last time a head nurse, the “Matron” in Halifax, had wanted to see her, it had been the disciplinary hearing about Spence, followed by exile to the godforsaken islands. Lana already felt guilty as she made her way around the potholed blacktop of the quad to the head nurse’s station on the first floor, snow melting the moment it landed on her cape, the thought that each snowflake in the world was different comforting her. To date, the head nurse at Dutch Harbor had given no sign that she was a dragon, like Matron, a prune-faced, portly woman who acted quickly to dampen high spirits the moment anyone looked like they might possibly be enjoying themselves, if such a thing was possible on the Aleutian bases. Still, Lana knew that all head nurses, by bent of their responsibilities, were usually sticklers for rules and regulations, and as she entered the Quonset hut, she was trying to think of which one she’d violated. The clock above the reception desk showed she was five minutes late for her shift.