“Sometimes it’s not my call. By the way, you made the right move in leaving Hawaii. The Japs have landed on the big island and set up a base by Hilo where they’re out of reach of the army garrison on Oahu. Much worse is the fact that the population of the islands are on near-starvation rations. They’re subsisting on fish and whatever they can grow, which isn’t much. Someday we’ll send in a relief fleet, but not for a while. If you have any friends there, and I’m sure you do, they are having a pretty rough time and it’s not going to get better.”
She wiped away a tear. “There aren’t any right decisions, are there? If we hadn’t sailed, Mack might still be alive although we’d probably be just as hungry as we were the last week or so on the boat, and we’d be terrified that the Japs would invade and take even that away.”
They were silent for a moment. Tim took a deep breath. “Amanda, where do we go from here?”
She smiled, “Just what I was thinking, too. Where would you wish to go, and don’t suggest an apartment? First of all, I don’t know you that well and, second, the three of us are bunking in a Quonset hut with a dozen other nurses. Seriously, my Great Dane, I would like for us to move slowly, get to know each other a whole lot better, and see where the world takes us.”
Tim took a deep breath. He was thrilled and happy beyond words that she was safe and by his side, but were they ready to make a commitment based on a couple of hours together? Wartime romances had a tendency to be intense and quickly consummated and often just as suddenly dissolved. No. However much he liked her and desired her, they would take it slowly.
“Sounds great to me. Just so you know how luxuriously I have it, I live in a two-man room in a miserable barracks that’s been designated as Bachelor Officers’ Quarters. The walls are so thin maybe a hundred men can hear each other snore.”
Amanda nodded and smiled warmly. “That’s probably just as well. When the time for privacy arrives, I’m sure we’ll work it out. Now, who is that navy captain talking to Grace and is he trying to pick her up?”
Tim laughed. “That’s my boss, Bill Merchant. He’s an Annapolis guy and pretty decent.”
“Is he married? I wouldn’t want Gracie to meet up with the wrong sort, even though I kind of think she can take care of herself.”
“Bill was married, but he got a Dear John letter a few weeks ago. His wife left him for a guy who works as a supervisor in the post office. He got her pregnant, so she’s divorcing Bill and going to marry the guy. He took it pretty hard for a bit, but looking at the way he’s staring at your friend, he may be recovering.”
Amanda stood and straightened her skirt. “Do you have any money?”
“Uh, a little. What do you have in mind?”
“I’m meeting you here at six and you’re taking me out to dinner.”
“Great. What would you like?”
“A great big thick and juicy steak cooked rare, thank you. I will eat it very slowly and have a glass of nice red California wine to go with it. Maybe two glasses if you promise not to take advantage of poor helpless little old me.”
“Anybody who sailed across the Pacific is far from helpless. But will I get to kiss you?”
“Plan on it, Commander, but just not on a park bench in front of half the fleet.”
Tim laughed. “Do I get to call you Mandy now, or should I stick with Amanda?”
“Amanda, always Amanda. Call me Mandy and you’ll suffer the excruciating pain I told you about in Honolulu a thousand years ago.”
Tim gestured to where Sandy and Grace were still talking to Merchant. “What about your good buddies?”
Amanda smiled sweetly and again patted his cheek. “Tim, I didn’t come all this way to find you so I can share you.”
Farris couldn’t sleep, so he decided to walk his platoon’s small perimeter. His little kingdom had been enlarged by the addition of a pair of 81mm mortars and another squad of soldiers to man them. They’d first been assigned to Lytle’s headquarters platoon, but he decided he didn’t want them around. Farris thought they probably looked too military for Lytle’s taste, or maybe they interfered with the decor provided by his seemingly endless rows of painted rocks.
Regardless, Farris had the mortars set up so they could fire out over the ocean, logically concluding that any attack would come from the sea and not from the land behind. He’d gotten a few dummy rounds and watched as the men operating the mortar attacked the Pacific. The mortars had a range of a little more than two miles. No one was manning them now, in the middle of the night. Only sentries and guards were awake and he was pleased to see that they were reasonably alert.
He’d gotten a phone call from his uncle with the good news that his girlfriend had made it from Hawaii to San Diego after all. He was amused at the thought of bachelor Tim Dane having a girlfriend and that he’d found her in the middle of a war. How the hell had he managed that? Damn, maybe it was true that sailors had all the luck. Once again he wondered if he was in the wrong service. He sure was having a fine time staring at the seals and sea otters, who, he was sure, were laughing at him.
He had a thought and it made him smile. Clever Steve Farris would invite Tim and his girl for a picnic or cookout and maybe this Amanda had a young woman friend of her own she could bring along. It would help if Amanda’s friend was cute, but, lord, it wasn’t all that necessary. All he wanted was a chance to talk with a real live girl and maybe wind up going a little farther than just talking. Maybe a lot farther. Excellent thought, he decided. Perhaps the world wasn’t such a bleak and lonely place after all.
Steve was still mildly concerned about how well Stecher had taken the existence of Sullivan’s wife and daughter. The sergeant was a little annoyed when he realized that Farris had known about them for quite a while, and had even chatted with them. Stecher finally admitted that the two women weren’t a threat to national security and would forget he ever saw them.
A sudden flash of light off the coast was quickly followed by the bark of what could only be a ship’s cannon. An explosion erupted down the coast near Lytle’s headquarters. The gun from the ocean fired again a few seconds later and commenced firing more rapidly, with shells pulverizing the tents and the damned white-washed rocks that beckoned like a beacon.
Steve’s platoon was stumbling in the dark as the alarm was sounded. Again he thanked his decision to place his men behind the low hill. Lytle’s position was getting creamed while his was invisible.
Stecher plopped down beside him as they looked over the hill. “Can you see anything, sir?”
Both men had binoculars. The ship fired again and for the briefest of instants, they saw it was a submarine.
“Damn it, Lieutenant, he’s killing our guys.”
Farris forced himself to stay calm. This was like the sinking of the tanker. Maybe it was the same damned sub. It had to be. This spot was just too innocuous to attract random attention, however foolish Lytle had been.
“What’s the range to the sub?” Farris snapped.
Stecher swore and said that he wasn’t certain and couldn’t tell all that well in the dark. He asked the men who were standing by the mortars and was told maybe two miles. Farris nodded. They reminded Farris that two miles was about it for an 81mm mortar.
“Shoot at the damn thing,” he ordered. “We won’t likely hit it, but maybe we’ll scare him off or at least distract the bastard.”
Seconds later, mortar rounds went arching toward the dimly seen outline of the Japanese sub. Shells splashed well away from her, and short. The mortar men made corrections and the next salvo landed much closer, but the sub was still not in range.