by Linda Ellen
HER BLUE-EYED CORPORAL
Soldiers of Swing: Book Two
By
Linda Ellen
Synopsis
He’d been kicked around for most of his life, but things were starting to change…
Corporal Steve Wheeler’s attitude had taken a turn for the better when he was reunited with the brothers he never knew – Gene Banks and Gary Tucker. He even met a girl that might turn out to be the one, that is—if could tame his penchant for teasing and tormenting…
Mary June Harriman is Vivian Powell’s best friend, and as such, she is often thrown together with Viv’s fiancée’s wisecracking brother. But, just who is this man Steve Wheeler? Is he the hard-edged hooligan he pretends to be…or is he actually a romantic at heart, capable of sweeping her off her feet?
These two spit and spar, dancing around one another, whether it’s at the USO in downtown Louisville or stuck on double dates with their best friend and sibling. Will the two of them continue to rub one another the wrong way? Or will they find that underneath it all, they are actually attracted to one another. And what if fate steps in and turns everything upside down with an incident at the powder plant? Mary June could lose her corporal before they even get together!
If you love stories about WWII and the “Greatest Generation” that read like you’re watching a classic movie, with handsome soldiers and beautiful girls-next-door, then Her Blue-Eyed Corporal is for you!
This is the second book in the Soldiers of Swing series. Get it now and follow the antics of Steve and Mary June!
Book 3 will be Her Blue-Eyed Lieutenant.
These are clean romances that contain no profanity or illicit sex.
Reviews
When it comes to writing top-notch stories, Linda Ellen doesn’t disappoint. She already has one series under her belt, The Cherished Memories series, and is currently working on the third book in her new Soldiers of Swing series. This book, Her Blue-Eyed Corporal is the sequel to Her Blue-Eyed Sergeant and it is as wonderfully written as the first! Taking place in Louisville, Kentucky and Charlestown, Indiana, this story follows Mary June and Corporal Steve Wheeler, who were featured in Her Blue-Eyed Sergeant as Viv’s best friend and Gene’s identical brother, respectively. Ms. Ellen takes the reader through the courtship of Mary June, a bank teller who moonlights as a USO Junior Hostess, and Steve Wheeler, a Corporal stationed at the Indiana Army Ammunition plant. On the outside, Mary June and Steve appear to be an odd match, but as the story develops the reader discovers that Mary June and Steve are actually a perfect match for each other, whether they know it or not…
I love Linda Ellen’s writing style. When reading one of her stories, you actually feel like you’ve stepped into the book and are living right alongside the characters. She expertly weaves a story that not only has an interesting and entertaining plot, but also well developed relatable characters. She draws the reader in immediately and keeps them hooked until the very end. Mrs. Ellen also includes historical details and facts within each of her stories. This not only adds depth to the plot, but also helps the reader get a better understanding of the time period and the characters themselves. Her Blue-Eyed Corporal is a beautiful read, one that will take your heart on an adventure. It’s a book you don’t want to miss out on.
~ Liz Austin, The Book Corner Blog
Linda Ellen has done it again! Like the jitterbuggin’ notes of swing music, this story will have you smiling from beginning to end. Together, Mary June and Steve have the quick jaunty wit to match their swinging dance moves! Their saucebox banter was flawlessly written and coupled with scenes of smooth romantic serenades and warm sunsets. I have loved all of Linda Ellen’s characters, but the best character of all has been historical Louisville. Written within the rich histories of the Idlewild, the USO club, Fort Knox, and the Charlestown Army Ammunition Plant, Linda Ellen gives not only a face to the people that lived during the time, but a soul. And Mary June and Steve, accompanied by their friends from the Soldiers of Swing, are the hearts that beat within it!
~ Author/Editor Venessa Vargas
Her Blue-Eyed Corporal is the 5 star continuation of Her Blue-Eyed Sergeant. Mary June and Steve manage to get to know each other and fall in love in spite of the war, and everything happening around them. You won’t be able to put it down, as you want to know what happens next for Steve and Mary June.
~ Teri Stallone, Advance Reader
Her Blue-Eyed Corporal
Soldiers of Swing Series, Book 2
Written by Linda Ellen
Copyright © 2017 by Linda Ellen
Trade Paperback Release: March 2017
Electronic Release: March 2017
lindaellenbooks.weebly.com
ISBN: 978-0-9909044-8-9
Kindle Edition
All rights reserved. This book may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission from the author. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. All characters and storylines are the property of the author and your support and respect is appreciated.
Names, characters and incidents depicted in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Although this book is a work of fiction, real locales, streets, and places were used. Brands are used respectfully. Details regarding Louisville, Ft. Knox, the Charlestown Powder Plant, and the surrounding areas during WWII were taken from the memories of those who lived then, as well as photographs, DVDs, and information found online. Incidents detailed in this story regarding the Charlestown plant are mostly fictitious, meaning they are either invented or embellished by the author.
The following story contains themes of real life, but is suitable for all ages, as it contains no illicit sex or profanity.
Cover design by Samantha Fury
Editing by Venessa Vargas
Proofreading by Kathryn Lockwood
Formatting by BB eBooks
Chapters
Title Page
Synopsis
Reviews
Copyright Page
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Historical Notes
Dedications
About the Author
HER BLUE-EYED CORPORAL
Soldiers of Swing, Book Two
By
Linda Ellen
As with the first story in this series, HER BLUE-EYED SERGEANT, this is also a light-hearted tale about soldiers and civilians who are contributing to the war effort back home, not a part of the monumental battles fought “Over there.” Soldiers on the home front were just as important to the war effort – and fought their own battles. Now, our hero is a member of the US Army division stationed at and charged with helping to protect the largest ammunition plant in the nation.
CHAPTER 1
September 1942
Charlestown, Indiana
As an enlisted man stationed at the Indiana Army Ammunition plant near Charlestown, Indiana, Corporal Steve Wheeler took his duty as seriously as the next Joe. Anyone with brains knew that the enemy would love to get a crack at destroying or disrupting production at such a facility. He was
diligent and focused… most of the time. However, if there was one thing he hated, it was night patrol.
“This is so dad-blamed monotonous,” Steve grumbled as he kept a flashlight trained on the undisturbed eight-foot electrified chain link fence with its razor-wire top. The repetition was starting to get to him. He had to fight to keep his mind from wandering.
His jeep-mate, a recent enlistee by the name of Private Ray Sheldon, negotiated the vehicle through the terrain at the outer reaches of the fenced-in factory. On this particular night, they were taking their turn at patrolling a section of the 19,200-acre compound’s thirty-mile outer fence line – specifically along the banks of the Ohio River.
It was a chilly night, especially that close to the river. Steve tugged up the collar of his jacket against the brisk breeze as the jeep bumped along.
“Sometimes I wish something would happen, just so we could have a little excitement around here,” Steve smirked, and then grinned at the stunned look the private flashed his way.
“You outta your mind?” the private exclaimed, quickly adding, “Begging your pardon, Corporal Wheeler.”
Steve glanced over at his pale, moonlit associate, who appeared now to be more like fourteen than eighteen, and noticed he looked like a mine had gone off under his feet. The whites of his eyes haloed his dark irises like a deer caught in the headlights. Steve hadn’t seen a face that spooked since basic training while crawling through barbed wire with machine guns firing eighteen inches above their heads, and a drill sergeant bellowing, “Keep your head down or it’ll get shot off!”
His conscience got the better of him. Maybe Gene and Gary are startin’ to rub off on me, he mused, his brothers’ faces flashing in his mind. Especially Gene, the natural leader of the newly formed Three Musketeers, and that look he could give.
“Aw, I’m just joshin’, Sheldon. Pay me no mind. That is…unless I tell you to duck,” he added before he could stop himself. The poor boy looked ready to jump out of the jeep and take off running back toward the occupied sections of the facility.
“D…do you think somebody will try to blow this place up, Corporal Wheeler?” the private stammered as the tires thumped over clumps of thick grass. His head jerked left and right as if he expected hordes of German foot soldiers to come charging out of the darkness – or scads of Zeros to come roaring down the river valley.
Steve shrugged and went back to watching the fence line, deciding to play it straight with the young soldier. “Like they say, the largest plant in the country producing smokeless powder for the war effort would be a juicy target – if the enemy could make it this far inland. Bombers would be intercepted long before they reached here, though; we’re too far from the coast. I don’t necessarily think an attack from the river is likely, either, as the Ohio is patrolled too well for that. But if the Germans or Japs put together a Cracker Jack team of demolition experts and they were able to penetrate our defenses, then…” he paused before yelling, “Look out!”
The teen had just enough time to yank the wheel and negotiate around a sunken patch in the ground about four yards inside the fence line.
The jeep shuddered to a halt and Steve clambered out. Walking over to the edge of the hole, he aimed the light at the depression, inspecting it, before he murmured, “Just an old cistern from one of the procured farms. Looks like it wasn’t filled in right, and the recent rain’s made the ground sink down.” He turned and made his way back to the vehicle.
The young man sat quivering in the driver’s seat, nearly hyperventilating, his eyes darting here and there. The deep shadows created by the trees past the fence and the sounds of river traffic weren’t helping matters for the youth. Steve couldn’t take it anymore. His conscience pinched and he wished he hadn’t let his teasing streak loose.
Handing over the flashlight, he ordered, “Here, change places. I’ll drive awhile.” With a shaky nod, Pvt. Sheldon accepted the object and moved over as Steve walked around the back and climbed in.
Levering the gearshift into first, he set it to rolling forward again as his partner trained the light on the fence. Steve could see the glow in the darkness shaking from the nervous motion of the kid’s hand.
Thinking of getting the boy’s mind off of things like invading armies, Steve cleared his throat and asked, “So, Sheldon. What’s your story?”
The private swung his head to glance at Steve before turning back to watch the never-ending sections of chain link. “What’dya mean, sir?”
Steve slowed the jeep as they passed one of the compound’s seven water-pumping stations for the Ranney Collector Wells – or high-capacity water supply systems. One of the guards stationed there, who happened to be outside on the elevated platform performing a periodic perusal of the surrounding area, acknowledged them by uplifting his rifle in a small wave. Steve lifted a hand and waved back.
Addressing the private, he clarified, “Were you called up or did you volunteer…do you have a girl waiting for you back home…you know, the usual.”
The young man visibly relaxed a bit and squirmed in the passenger seat to get more comfortable. He braced the arm holding the flashlight on one knee as he continued to eyeball the fence.
“I joined up the day I turned eighteen,” the boy replied, keeping his head turned.
“So you could choose where to serve instead of being shipped overseas, right?”
“Yeah…and to keep an eye on things.”
Steve’s brow furrowed and he snapped a peek at the side of the boy’s face. “Come again?”
The private huffed a breath and seemed to sit a bit straighter in his seat as he began his tale.
“See we owned a nice farm. Been in my family for three generations. My grandpa, Nate Sheldon, won the deed in a card game when he was eighteen,” he paused with a snicker and shook his head. “He’s something else. The man he won it off of never did anything with it, but Grandpa did. He started tilling the ground right away, built a barn and slept in the hayloft, planted all kinds of vegetables and sold ’em at the market. Saved every penny. Found a girl and got married. They did all right. Started having kids. When the oldest – my dad – was of age, he married my mom and built a stone house on the property, and even had electricity put in. They had my three sisters and then me…I was gonna inherit the place. We were livin’ in high cotton. Yessiree.” The young man stopped, as if he were gathering his thoughts.
“Yeah?” Steve prompted; having a feeling the boy was about to lay a bombshell.
“Well…we knew the other farms around us hadn’t been doin’ too good; what with the Depression and all. Some had been abandoned, even. But everything just seemed to work for us. People said we must have been born under a lucky star or something. We had good water, good ground, and steady customers… Plus, Mama always taught us to live by the Good Book. I used to hear people in town moaning and groaning, wishing things would change. That something big would happen. Well…they got their wish,” he paused again, this time with a grimace. “Three years ago, on my fifteenth birthday, I’d just took a big breath to blow out the candles on my cake when there was a knock on the door. Pop answered it. A man stood there with hat in hand, said he was a real estate agent from Delaware named C.V. Atwell, and he wanted to know if we wanted to sell our property. Pop laughed at him. Said ‘No’, and shut the door.” Sheldon shook his head, his lip curled. “Well, that wasn’t the last we seen of Mr. C.V. Atwell.”
“I don’t get the connection.”
“See, the guy’d been wandering through the fields and farms in the area, and he started making options to purchase. Most of our neighbors were excited, cause of shortages, no jobs, no food. He didn’t tell ’em what he wanted the land for, though. Some were laughing behind his back and calling him a dumb Easterner cause he was buying up a lot of useless land. Wasn’t long, though, before the newspaper started saying that maybe the DuPont Company was going to build a rayon factory.”
Steve negotiated around a tree and grunted for the private
to continue.
“Pop held out. He wasn’t going to sell. We loved our place, you know? But then, in June of 1940, the government passed the National Defense Appropriations Act, and then the Munitions Project. Then we read in the paper on July 13 about the world’s largest smokeless powder plant that was gonna be built on land near Charlestown, Indiana. Then we knew what Mr. C.V. Atwell wanted all that land for – and he made a killing.”
As the youth had related his story, Steve had begun to understand. He nodded. “And your farm…”
The boy clamped his lips together for a moment, but controlled his emotions and breathed in deep. “We had 185-acres of the prettiest land this side of the Ohio. Pop held off the vultures, but one night our neighbors came calling and…let’s just say, they convinced my dad that he wasn’t going to rock the boat. They were afraid him holding out would cause them to get less for their lands. He dickered with the government guys that came calling…my pop, he can dicker with the best of ’em,” he added softly, a fond expression warming his face. “Finally, they said our place appraised at $16,930. So they came out to the house on August 15 and presented my dad with a cashier’s check for $17,850. He had no choice. He had to take it. See, our land…was smack dab in the middle of what’s now Indiana Ordnance Works #1.”
Steve raised a hand and swept his garrison cap off his head, scratched his scalp, and put the cap back in place. He knew the IOW #1 had begun production of the smokeless powder on April 21, 1941 – and it was the center facility of three that would eventually be built on the 19,000-acre site. “Whew. That must have been tough.”
The boy sneered and flashed Steve a sour look. “Tough ain’t the word for it. My mom cried for days. My sisters wailed. My grandma wrung her hands and wept. My granddad cussed and griped and moaned about all of our hard work going down the drain. All I could do was shake my head and think about my legacy that all of a sudden wasn’t my legacy anymore.”