by Linda Ellen
The dance was in full swing and had been for about half an hour.
Mary June was dancing with a very young private in khakis; she figured he was barely eighteen. She was just managing to keep a smile on her face as he attempted the steps. As had happened frequently throughout the evening, her thoughts floated to the last man with whom she had danced…her dashing dark-haired hero. Thinking those words, she almost giggled, realizing that she was starting to act like a hero-worshipping ninny. But, oh! How I miss that blue-eyed rascal. I wish you were here, Steve…
The song ended and the private clumsily thanked her for the dance. However before she could respond, he was thrust out of the way by a meaty hand.
Mary June turned as the next song started, arms up to receive her new partner, and froze as she came face to face with the burly sailor from the episode outside.
He grasped her into his arms and began to sloppily sashay her to the music; the comedy song of the night, which oddly enough was the crazy old folk song, Barnacle Bill the Sailor. She would have laughed if the man who now had her in his arms weren’t making her hackles rise, causing her to want to take off running. Something about him made her feel extremely uncomfortable.
As the tune progressed, her partner began an attempt to sing some of the silly words along with the vocalist. “Who’s that knocking at my door, cried the fair young maiden. It’s only me from over the sea, said Barnacle Bill the Sailor. I’ll sail the sea until I croak, I fight and swear and drink and smoke…”
Mary June shook her head, her stomach a bit queasy as she was forced to breathe in his whiskey-fouled breath.
The man stopped singing and chuckled in an almost evil sounding laugh. “Me thinks they wrote that song ’jes for me. I come to the dance, ’jes like you asked, baby.”
He was holding her much too closely, and she tried to squirm out of his grip, firmly disliking the feeling of her body pressed against his.
“You shouldn’t hold me so tightly, sailor…”
He leaned down closer and blathered, “I bet you’d like to find a little spot and do some neckin’ with good ol’ Pete, eh?” She squirmed again, keeping her face turned away from him, and he added, “I see ’yer boyfriend ain’t with ya tonight. I ’spect you’re feelin’ a might lonely, eh?”
Her eyes widened and she whipped her head back, blinking up into his bloodshot mud-brown eyes. “M…my—” she began, but he went on, “Yeah, baby. ’Yer boyfriend what was kissin’ ya, up there on the backend ’a the Idlewil’ last night. I spotted you as soon as you got on board. Watched ya dancin’ that Jitterbuggin’ dance with him. Couldn’t take my eyes off ya. Followed you up top…I guess you didn’ see me, but mmm mm, you sure can kiss. Made me get all ’cited ’jes watchin’.”
Mary June gasped in shock and tried harder to wrestle away from him. This was getting to be downright creepy and she wanted nothing to do with this Pete. Panic rising in her chest, again she wished wholeheartedly that Steve were there. Frantically, she looked around for help…Miss Warren…somebody…
The dirty sailor gave his nasty sounding laugh. “You lookin’ for a place ’fer us ta go?”
Mary June had had enough and she fought to get away, but his large hands and overly muscled arms had an unbreakably firm grip on her.
“Let go of me, you big—” she bit off the insult that had nearly flown from her lips, struggling to push at his chest. He merely laughed as if he thought she was playing hard to get.
Suddenly, like an avenging angel, Gene was there at her side. Mary June turned her head and saw the concerned look in her friend Viv’s eyes as Gene, in his most authoritative first sergeant voice, said, “I think you’d better unhand the lady, Ainsworth,” having seen his name on the patch on his uniform.
“Says who?” the cantankerous man challenged, gripping Mary June’s arms as she tried to pry herself away. She let out a squeak of protest at the treatment.
Gene bristled and stood to his full height, his persona intimidating although he was several inches shorter than the sailor. By now the music had stopped and other men had gathered to help. To all within earshot, it was plain that the sailor was spoiling everyone else’s good time and that the hostess did not wish any of his improper advances.
Gene met several of the other’s eyes, mostly Knox men he knew, and gave a nod. Then he quickly motioned Viv back a few steps as several of the army sergeants, including Gene, moved to lay hands on the belligerent sailor. Abruptly, he let go of Mary June, letting her fall back before turning into Viv’s open arms as they scooted out of the way.
Miss Warren made her way through the crowd just then, calling, “What is happening here? What is the meaning of this?” as the soldiers wrestled the thrashing bear of a man to the floor.
He yelled at the soldiers holding him, “You army types are all alike. Always stickin’ up ’fer one another. My money’s as good as ya’ll’s!”
“Gentlemen! Please!” Miss Warren began.
“I jus’ wanted a few kisses like I seen her give him!” The man on the floor yelled, using his head to motion toward Gene.
“That’s enough!” Miss Warren yelled. “Stop this right now or I’ll have you all thrown out and barred from this USO for a month!”
The melee on the floor ceased and the men climbed to their feet and brushed off their uniforms. Couples all around glanced at one another, and then at Mary June, as she blushed crimson, utterly humiliated. It was all too much, and she couldn’t stop the tears that stung her eyes and began to spill over.
The unruly sailor stumbled to his feet and swayed drunkenly, sneering at Gene and then at Mary June. She was shocked when he verbally lashed out.
“I knew who he was…he’s the big famous hero ever’body’s makin’ a big ta’do about. It’s cause ’a him I got kicked out! ’Tain’t my fault my dumb cousin got his’self mixed up in that trouble! But nobody accuses ol’ Pete ’a nothin’! I licked ’em all, I did. Licked ’em good. And I’ll take on all ’a you, too—”
“I said that’s enough,” the director sternly reiterated. “Sir, I must ask you to leave. You will not be welcome here for a period of thirty days. My decision is final. If you refuse to leave and try to come back before the thirty days are over, I shall be forced to call the police and have you escorted out.”
To the men who had subdued him, she motioned with a nod and the lot of them unceremoniously hustled the man outside. He cursed and swore all the way out.
Mary June trembled, feeling as if she were going to be sick.
When Miss Warren turned back, contrary to what Mary June feared, the woman softened and moved to the girl. Reaching out a hand to touch her arm, Miss Warren said very gingerly, “Would you like to go on home, or do you think you can finish out the dance?”
Viv, who had never let go of her friend, spoke up, “Miss Warren, can we sit upstairs in the lounge for a few minutes? I think she’ll be alright if she can calm down.”
The woman gave Mary June a measured look, noting the slight discoloration of finger-shaped bruises already forming on her arms, and gave her consent, then adding with a glance at Gene, “Sergeant, will you accompany the ladies upstairs, please?”
Gene smiled in agreement.
“That I will, Miss Warren.”
Becoming businesslike, the director crisply turned to the band and clapped her hands twice to signal them to start up again. Then, she swept her arms to include everyone in the room.
“Everything is all right, now, everyone. Please continue.”
It took a bit of effort, but it wasn’t long before the pleasant atmosphere returned.
“And you don’t remember seeing him before?” Viv asked once Mary June filled the two of them in on the things they hadn’t heard the awful sailor utter.
“No, I sure don’t. But he’d for sure seen me…and Steve.” She shivered down to her core beore adding, “He said he’d watched us…” she hesitated and met Viv’s eyes, and then Gene’s. “Steve and I danced up on the top de
ck…above the paddlewheel…in the moonlight. And we…we kissed. That…that man said he watched us and it…excited him, and he wanted me to do the same with him.” She shuddered in revulsion.
Gene wisely didn’t say anything regarding Mary June and his brother engaging in what evidently was some kiss. “He obviously recognized…or rather…mistook me for Steve. And what was that about his cousin being mixed up in the sabotage attempt?”
Mary June shook her head and shrugged, reaching a hand up to hazily feel if her hairdo was still in place. She’d had enough of the whole affair and wanted to forget it. Truly, all she wanted at that moment was Steve’s arms around her.
Gene went on, “From what he said, I gather that people gave him grief about his cousin being a traitor and he fought back. He was wearing a Coast Guard uniform. He’s probably assigned to the floating Lifeboat Station down at the wharf. He might have even been disciplined over the incident. Whatever happened, it’s a sure thing that he’d been drinking tonight—and it appeared to me that he hadn’t been back to his quarters or cleaned up after the fight.”
Viv, sitting next to Mary June, hadn’t taken her eyes off her friend. Now, she admonished softly, “Honey, I think Mary June wants to just move on and let this go. I know I, for one, hope I never see that awful man again.”
Mary June and Gene both said simultaneously, “Copy that.”
The three looked at one another and burst out laughing, and with that surge of joy, the dark cloud that the man had brought fractured and Mary June began at once to feel much better.
After a few more minutes of her friends making sure she was all right, and after half a bottle of good old Grapette, she was ready to go back down and finish out the dance.
The rest of the evening sailed by as smoothly as a silk parachute drifting to the ground.
CHAPTER 13
Steve’s thoughts frequently strayed to Mary June and the most enjoyable date he’d ever had. And that dance and kiss in the moonlight…Hubba Hubba! Sparks zinged through his body, radiating from his core all the way out to his fingers and toes each time he thought about it. Every time he relived it, he could feel the warmth and softness of her lips responding to his, and hear again the thump whoosh of the paddlewheel and the final strains of Moonlight Serenade.
That kiss made every other kiss he’d ever experienced, and every girl he’d ever dated, dissolve and melt away from his memory…like Ilsa’s note as Rick stood reading it with rain drizzling off his hat and onto the paper in that unforgettable scene in Casablanca.
More than once, Steve remembered how he had spilled too many details about the break-in for a civilian, especially a woman, to handle. The look on her face! Immediately kicking himself, he had taken both of her hands in his and tried his best to make his voice gentle, while letting go of the righteous anger that spewing the details had kindled.
After that, thank goodness, the rest of the evening had been wonderful – more than wonderful. The remainder of the ride on the old boat consisted of more dancing and making eyes at each other…and stolen kisses. Then the nice long drive taking her home with her snuggled up to him, followed by the kisses in the car before he had walked her to her porch steps. He’d even snatched her behind a bush and planted his lips on hers once more before he’d walked her up to the door and bid her goodnight.
They had spoken about Gene and Viv’s upcoming wedding, which would fall on the last week of October, and how they were planning to join his brother and fiancée on a short trip out to Elizabethtown to spend the day with Gene’s adopted family. Mary June had seemed so excited to go. Gene had spoken about his family so much, and after Steve had met them at the monumental proposal, he felt like he knew them already. He’d been searching out Burma-Shave slogans to tell Gene’s little brother.
But, ahh, Mary June…she had been sweet and fun the whole evening of their date. So sweet, in fact, that it was almost scary…as if he were waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Anytime in his past when things were looking hunky dory, something always happened to toss a huge monkey wrench in the gears and everything ended up in the ditch. Fatalistically, he wondered what it would be that would derail proceedings this time.
Then as he mentally predicted, a frustrating complication had arisen, and wouldn’t you know it – just when his and Mary June’s romance was getting off the ground. Commander Lewis cancelled all weekend passes while he reformulated security procedures at the plant. He was determined there would not be another incident of attempted sabotage on his watch. While he was at it, the commander had also limited telephone calls, but Steve managed to get a call through to his brother at Ft. Knox to relay a message to Mary June.
Once the lieutenant colonel worked out the details of their beefed up security measures, however, he turned his eagle eye on the civilian workforce.
Against the arguments of Eric Gardner, Controller of Operations for DuPont, who oversaw the running of IOW #1, and Kevin Childress, Plant Superintendent at HOP, Commander Lewis decided that a thorough background check must be conducted on every civilian employed at the two manufacturing facilities. Gardner and Childress argued that production schedules would not be met, but the commander assured them he would see to it that they would. To keep his word, Lewis requested help from Washington and received it in the form of a bevy of temporary clerks skilled in such procedures.
The days went slowly by as Steve helped to oversee security procedures and perform additional duties, during which he learned a lot about the ordnance plant that he hadn’t known before. Until the incident with the would-be saboteurs, he had only put in his time, pulling guard duty on autopilot, but not really taking an interest in his surroundings.
Now, he learned that the mammoth facility of over 19,000 acres would eventually consist of three separate, but attached manufacturing plants – IOW #1, the smokeless powder plant; the HOP, the Hoosier Ordnance Plant, which was the facility that manufactured and loaded propellant charge bags with the smokeless powder produced at IOW #1; and finally IOW #2, which was scheduled to be built within two years and would manufacture rocket propellant. It was a massive undertaking, and would ensure that America’s fighting forces did not run out of the ammunition necessary to defeat the enemy.
On the first day of the second week, deep in a daydream about a certain dark haired young lady that he was achingly missing, he stepped inside the mess hall for lunch.
Once he had gotten his food and found a place to sit, an old-timer interrupted his musings.
“How ’do? Name’s Chester Hayes,” the man greeted as he sat down in the seat across from Steve and cast an expectant gaze his way. Steve quickly wiped crumbs from his hand and stuck it out for the man, who took it in a firm grip.
“Corporal Steve Wheeler.”
“You’re the one caught them spies, ain’t ya?” the older man immediately queried, squinting one eye at Steve as if he were trying to match his face to the name.
“That’s me. Along with Private Sheldon – he took the brunt of it.”
Mr. Hayes nodded solemnly. “Yeah. Known little Blake Sheldon since he was knee-high to a grasshopper. Good stock. I even took his grandma to a dance once,” he chuckled. “He’s gonna be all right, though, eh?”
Smiling in relief, as he truly cared about Sheldon’s welfare, Steve was grateful to answer, “Should be back to work in a week or so.”
“Good, good,” the stranger nodded again.
Curious, Steve eyed the man, taking note of his bib-overalls and plaid shirt, his straw hat covering a mane of silver hair, his bushy eyebrows, and full mustache dusted with gray.
“Hey…what’s doin’, old man? Why you here today?”
The man took an old bandana out of his back pocket and wiped his face with it as he cast a gander at the younger man. “Paid Ruth…my wife…a little visit,” he said, rather somberly. “Today woulda been our fiftieth weddin’ anniversary. Commander Lewis…he’s a right good egg, he is. He makes sure all of the old family ce
meteries are fenced in and kept up. Lets all of us old-timers come in, decorate the graves of our loved ones, sit a spell and contemplate…and he said anytime I’m here, I could stop in the cafeteria for a bite. Yep,” he added, “he’s a good egg.”
Then, he settled himself on the metal chair and picked up his spoon to taste his soup, asking rather nonchalantly, “So, son, what do you think of this here ammunition plant? Huh? Ain’t she somethin’?”
Steve leaned back in his chair and tried to be patient, rather than aggravated that the old man had put the brakes on a more than pleasant daydream. However, he figured the man was lonely and just wanted someone to listen to him, so he gave a vague lift of one shoulder in answer.
“You mean you ain’t still amazed at this feat of engineering you been assigned to guard?” He went on before Steve could answer, “Did you know that DuPont began construction on IOW #1 in August of 1940, eventually employin’ 27,000 construction workers, and finished the task of buildin’ this here ordnance works in a record time ’a just nine months?”
Steve raised his eyebrows and had to admit that he hadn’t heard any details of how the place came to be. After he’d finished basic training, they had shipped him off to his first post and it had just happened to be his first choice – the ordnance plant. But he’d only chosen it because it was in Indiana. But it was already up and running. He had unpacked his gear and gone on duty, not asking any questions. Plus, he’d never really been one to read the newspapers, so he hadn’t kept up with the progress. He only knew what Pvt. Sheldon had told him about the land acquisitions.
“Well, young fella, let me tell you a story that’ll knock your socks off.” The old man began as he spread out his lunch to eat, and then proceeded to tell Steve that previously, the tiny burg of Charlestown had only consisted of one bank, two restaurants, one tavern, a post office, a firehouse with one engine, one dry goods store, a couple of gas stations, and an area population of roughly 900 – it was for the most part, a sleepy little close-knit Indiana farm community where everyone knew everyone else.