by M. L. Maki
“Yes, sir. Sir, why are they fucking over our women?”
Lee looks Swede in the eyes, “I’m doing what I can.”
“Are they going to fuck over Spike, sir?”
“I’m doing what I can.”
Swede is so loud, everyone in the hanger can hear him. “Sir, I’m not going to the White House. If she isn’t getting recognized, you can shove your medal up your ass.”
Thud walks up.
Lee, “Swede, medal decisions are out of my hands.”
Thud, “Is that why you’re the only one here? The Secretary fucked over out boss, and now he’s too much of a chicken shit to own his decision?”
Spike, “Swede, Thud, that’s enough. Let it go. Regardless of what they do to me, you’ve earned what you’re receiving. You’re going to the White House.”
Thud, “Admiral, I will present you with my letter of resignation when this is over.”
Swede, “So, will I.”
Spike takes a breath and faces her people, “Yankee, I appreciate your concern. I won’t say it doesn’t hurt. But, what all of you did for our nation, for Britain, is more important than whether we get awards or promotions. When we came back in time, I expected all of the women to be sent home. We’ve been allowed to serve. I have been allowed to serve. We made a difference. It’s important that we continue to stand together against our enemies. It’s less important that our leadership can’t see or acknowledge what we’ve done. Now, I ask you to swallow the bitterness and continue doing the job we are here to do. That is what I will do.”
There is silence for a moment. As one, they all salute. Spike returns it. Lee steps back to the mic, “Major Louis Mossberg, you are promoted to Lt. Colonel and will stand up a new squadron with Major Boyington as your XO. Lieutenant Commander Boxter, you are promoted to Commander and will relieve Commander Myers as CO of the Knightriders. Lieutenant Hardin, you are promoted to Lieutenant Commander, and will be Commander Boxter’s XO.”
After pinning them, Lee continues, “Lieutenant Ulster and Lieutenant Todd are promoted to Lt. Commander are being transferred to VT-1 Buccaneers, the training squadron at Pensacola.”
Finally, Lee pins Hunt with a DFC, a Legion of Merit, and a Bronze Star, “I’m sorry, Darling.”
“It is what it is. I will say, however, if they thought this would be good for morale, they’re idiots.”
He nods and steps back to the mic, “Commander Swedenborg, Commander Jackson, I will see you at the White House at 1630. Chief Bond has your orders, leave, and travel papers. Carry on.” He walks out of the hanger to his sedan. Spike doesn’t follow him.
Behind her the noise of arguments is deafening. She turns and faces her people, waiting for them to quiet. “It’s been an honor to serve with each and every one of you. Admiral Lee is not the enemy. He fought for us and lost. He came and saw this through because he cares. I will be doing a thirty-day bond tour and then be assigned as the CAG on the George Washington. I wish you all the best. Thank you. Dismissed.”
She takes two steps and Thud, Swede, and Gloria join her. Swede, “Spike, you have to be at the White House.”
“I will be. I’m proud of you.” She grins at Thud, “Both of you.”
Thud, “Great. Sit with Gloria and Gandhi.”
“Okay, but why?”
Swede, “It’s cover for us. Everyone knows you two are friends. I need Gloria to be there.”
“Okay, sure Swede.” They walk out of the door into a cold wind. YN2 McDonald asks, “Ma’am, are you riding with the Admiral.”
She stops, “No, Yeoman. I’ll find my own way back.”
He nods and gets into the sedan. It pulls away.
Gloria, “Are you staying with your dad?”
“Yeah, for now. He gets married tomorrow and I’m standing up with him. Also, I need to see Puck. After that, I’m taking the train to Tennessee.”
Gloria, “How are you going to get back? You gave up your ride.”
“I need some time alone. I’ll figure it out.”
Thud, “I drew a car from the pool. I’ll shut up and drive you.”
She smiles, “Okay. Thank you.”
NAS PATUXENT RIVER MEDIA OFFICE
US Army Major Hugh Pettigrew says, “I want to be absolutely clear. None of the audio of the conversations you heard can be used or reported on. Am I clear?”
Ernest Hemingway, “Sir, shouldn’t the American people know Hunt is getting screwed?”
Pettigrew, “Fucking end that talk. That bitch is lucky to be in uniform. If you listened, you’d know she understands that. Now, all of it is off limits.”
Hemingway, “Major, how is any of this classified?”
Pettigrew, “I don’t care. If you publish any of it, you will never, ever be allowed access to the military again. Got it?”
As the reporters and film crews pack up and leave, they all reply, “You got it, Major.” Hemingway is silent, taking mental notes.
ADMIRAL LEE’S HOME
Sam lets herself into the empty house. She goes into the kitchen and starts a kettle. She prepares the teapot and service, then sits at the table. She can feel the tears coming, but she fights them back. When the kettles boils, she makes the tea and takes the service into the living room. She pours herself a cup, then sits on the floor and meditates.
It takes a while to clear her mind. She finishes her tea. Then, she borrows Lee’s 1940 Ford sedan, consults a map, and heads for Bethesda Naval Hospital.
CHAPTER 13
BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL, WASHINGTON, DC
1432, 22 October, 1942
Still in her dress blues, Samantha walks into Bethesda. Conversations stop as she makes her way to the reception desk, “Could you direct me to Lieutenant Eric Hawke’s room?”
“Of course, Commander.”
She finds her way to Puck’s door, knocks, and walks in. He’s working at a desk, his back to the door. When he hears her knock, he gathers all the papers and quickly puts them in a safe.
“Interesting. It’s just me, Puck.”
Puck starts and spins his wheelchair around, “Samantha!”
“Yep, it’s me. How are you?” She leans down and kisses his cheek. “I’ve missed you.”
“Yeah, me too.” He grins, “Welcome to the ward of broken wings.” He struggles to his feet, stands, and salutes, “Commodore, may I introduce you to my great grandfather, John Hawke.”
Sam notices a man sitting in the corner by the window. He’s short with leathery skin and eyes that miss nothing. He smiles and stands, putting his hand out, “Hello, Commodore. Did you find the sparrow?”
“I did. Then I became the hawk. Thank you so much.”
John Hawke chuckles, “You are a strong one. Your spirit soars, but sometimes the wind is strong.”
She smiles, “Yes, sir. I did fly into a wall. It’s an honor to meet you.” She turns to Eric, “I’m a commander again.”
“I’m aware, Samantha. You look tired. Really tired. You going to get some rest?”
“Yeah. Orders from on high. Four weeks at home. I’ll be leaving for Tennessee in a couple of days. God, it’s good to see you. How are you healing?”
“Pretty good, actually. I’m doing rehab for my arm and shoulder. I should be able to fly again. Lee wants to put me at Pensacola for a while. Not what I want to do, but at least they’re not kicking me out.”
“They need you. It’s the law. They can’t discriminate.”
“Yes, but we both know, they still will. How was it?”
“It was hard. The op-tempo was insane. Three, sometimes four sorties a day. But we have Great Britain’s back. It’ll take a while for the Germans to regroup. As hard as it was, we broke the back of the Luftwaffe and Erwin Rommel is in a POW camp.”
“What are you doing in DC?”
“We flew into Patuxent. The award ceremony was today.” She smiles, “What are you doing? I saw you hide the papers.”
“Yeah, well, Lee has me doing a job for him. I’m c
onsultant for every aircraft designer, engineer, and manufacturer in the country. At least, that’s what it feels like. I heard you’ve been flying with Lizard. How’s that going?”
“Good. Not the same, but he’s beyond competent. I wish we could fly together, but you and I know, that’s not going to happen. I think Lee has you pegged for your own squadron after Pensacola. He and Klindt are pushing everyone up the chain.”
“Yes, you’re right. My own squadron. We’ll see. I miss flying with you. We were the best, you know?”
“Yes, we were, Eric.” She feels her throat closing and she fights it back. “I really missed you. It was harder because you weren’t there. We got it done, but damn, it was hard.” He opens his arms and she leans into the hug. He holds her for a moment, then releases her, “Samantha, you were always all right. I knew could do it, and you did. Please, never forget who you are. Got it?”
She fishes a handkerchief out of a pocket and wipes her eyes. “God, I hate it when I get like this. I guess, I’m more tired than I thought. I’m actually looking forward to the farm. Bucking hay, cleaning stables, riding horses, fixing fences, and did I say riding horses?”
Eric chuckles, “Yep. I forgot that you can do all that.”
“Eric, are you allowed to leave the hospital?”
“I am. I can’t walk far yet, so I have to roll.”
“Do you have your dress uniform?”
John Hawke says, “He does. Should he wear the crimson sash?”
“No, just the crown pin. I’m glad you got that. It’s only for formal functions in the UK.” She smiles at them, “I want to take you to the White House.”
Eric, “What’s happening?”
“Thud and Swede are getting the CMH.”
“But, not you.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. They deserve it, and want you to be there.”
John, “I’ll help him. Why don’t you get a cup of coffee? There’s a place next to a most odd statue.”
She follows his directions and finds a canteen next to a statue of an eagle carrying an anchor. She grins and orders a coffee and a sandwich. She eats, then has a second cup. She sees John wheeling his grandson toward her. Eric is in his full-dress blues with his Purple Heart and the Silver Star. She looks at John, “Do you wish to come?”
John smiles, “No, I’ve seen it. They wish not to speak to me again.”
“Okay, I’ll have him back in a few hours.” She wheels Eric to the car, helps him in, folds the wheelchair and puts it int the trunk. They drive to the White House.
Eric looks over at her, “So, the letter helped?”
“Yes. The Germans were relentless. When I got your letter and read what he had written, I realized I finally had the resources for a counter-attack.”
“Stop acting like a sparrow and act like a hawk. Good. I see they gave you the legion.”
“Yes. I think it damn near cost Lee is career to get me this one medal. All the women were short changed on medals. They think we should just be happy to serve.”
Eric shakes his head, “It was no different in ’90.”
ROSE GARDEN, WHITE HOUSE
Swede and Thud walk into the garden with Gloria, Gandhi, Gunner, Mossberg, GQ, and Admiral Lee. The rain has finally passed, leaving a cool, sunny fall afternoon. They see Spike pushing Puck into the garden. Swede, “Hey Eric. It’s good to see you. Thanks for coming. Are they treating you well?”
“Passably. Congratulations.”
“Yeah. Have you heard about Spike?”
Eric, “I have. It’s typical Navy bull shit. Guys, don’t let it mar the day for you.”
Thud smiles and looks at Swede, “We won’t.”
An army major joins them, “It’s time for all of you to take your places. Commander Hunt, I wish to speak with you after.”
Hunt, “Who are you?”
“Major Hugh Pettigrew. You’ll be working for me during your next assignment.”
Hunt, “Major, commanders do not work for majors, and the Navy does not work for the Army. I have other business I must attend to.”
Pettigrew, “I want you to sit right here and smile as your men get their just due.”
Gloria, “Do you work for the White House, Major?”
“No.”
“She sits here, with me.”
Spike, “What’s going on, Gloria?”
“It’s the cameras. He wants you in the frame. I do, too, but not there.”
Spike, “What are you up to?” Sam removes a chair and parks Puck on the aisle next to her.
He leans over, “Somethings up. But what? And who is the officious major?”
Navy Secretary Knox walks into the garden with Admiral King. The press is in the rear, cameras rolling. Ernest Hemingway stands with the rest of the press. Many members of congress are present and every chair is filled. Most of the squadrons stand in the back. Lee is speaking with King and Knox. Klindt arrives and stays in the rear. A White House usher says, “The President will be here momentarily.”
Quincy Diggs stays behind the assembled crowd. He searches for Hunt and spots her. Smiling to himself, he says, “I need to do my own research.”
Pettigrew approaches Diggs. With a small shake of his head, Diggs warns him away.
Everyone goes to their places, then stand as President Roosevelt is wheeled in and helped to his feet behind the podium. He looks out at the gathered crowd, “Ladies and Gentlemen. Today we honor two exceptional pilots and leaders whose actions were decisive in the Second Battle of Britain. Commander Frank Jackson has one hundred six enemy kills. A remarkable accomplishment. Commander Stephan Swedenborg has eighty-four kills. Quite impressive.” A US Navy chief reads the citations and the President places the ribbons around their necks. The President sits down.
Everyone sits down, then Secretary Knox comes to the podium, “Congratulations, Commander Jackson and Commander Swedenborg. The entire nation is proud of you. Two fine American men. One from my home state of Michigan.” He goes on and on.
When Knox falls silent and steps back, Gloria whispers to Sam, “Stand up.”
“What?”
Swede and Thud march toward her. Gloria whispers, “Fucking stand up.”
Spike stands and steps into the aisle. Swede and Thud remove their medals. Swede starts to put his around her neck and she hisses, “My hands.”
They fold the ribbons and place their medals into her hands and walk to the rear. She quickly sits down. Knox and King are red with fury.
Diggs shakes his head, “Taking their glory? Is that how it is with them.”
The ceremony ends and Knox and King make a bee line to the two commanders. Knox, “What the hell was that stunt in aid of?”
Swede, “Sir, we were giving our medals to the person who actually deserves them.”
Knox, “You just ended your career.”
Thud, “You’ll have my resignation on your desk today. I’m sure the Army can use me.”
Knox, “You will not!”
Swede, “Sir, you just fired us. As Americans, we can do whatever we fucking want. Good day.” He turns his back on Knox and walks away.
Thud, “Have a fine Navy day, sir.” He, too, walks away.
Knox turns on King, “Fucking fix it, Admiral.”
King, “You could do so easily by giving her the medals she deserves, sir.”
Spike hands the medals to Gloria, “Make sure they get them back.” She gets up and pushes Puck out of the garden. She passes Lee, looking him in the eyes.
His face is a study in neutrality, but his eyes are twinkling, “We’ll talk later. If you see Swede, or Thud, send them to my office. King will want to speak with them.” He looks at Puck, “It’s good to see you, Eric. Glad you could make it.”
Spike says, “Yes, sir.”
Puck says, “Yes, sir.”
Major Pettigrew joins them, “Hunt, I need to speak with you.”
“Major, I’m on leave. We’ll talk after I complete my leave.”
>
Pettigrew, “We’ll speak now.”
Spike, “Let me, again, explain the O-5, O-4 relationship. You are dismissed. Good day.” She wheels Puck back to the car.
Diggs watching it all opens his eyes wide. He catches Senator Russell’s eye, “Sir, what just happened?”
Russell, “She’s full of herself. Very sure of herself. Interesting.”
“Yes, sir. She is.”
Pettigrew turns to Lee, “Make her stop.”
Lee, “Now you presume to tell a flag officer what to do? Major, were you good at your job as a civilian?”
“I was.”
“You disrespect her, or disrespect me one more time and you’ll be a civilian again. Am I clear?”
“Y…yes, sir.”
“You may go.”
Russell and Diggs walk back to their car. Russell, “It’s unfortunate that they tolerate her inappropriate behavior.”
“Yes, sir, it is. I need to learn more about her. I’ve a friend who will tell me when she buys her train ticket for Tennessee. With your permission, I’d like to take that ride with her. Maybe I can figure her out.”
“Do so. Remember, knowledge is power.”
Diggs sees Hemingway, “Hemingway wrote the article on her, sir.”
Russell, “He did. Go pick his brain
ADMIRAL KING’S OFFICE
Swedenborg and Jackson are escorted into King’s office. They each place a letter of resignation on his desk then come to attention. King reads the letters, them crumples them up and tosses them into the wastebasket. “Denied. You got your little protest, now get back to work.”
In unison, “Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
Thud, “Sir, may I speak freely?”
“Dismissed.”
BAR, WASHINGTON, DC
Quincy Diggs, holding a drink, walks up to Hemingway’s booth, “May I join you?”
Ernest Hemingway looks up, “Who are you?”
“I’m Senator Russell’s chief of staff, Quincy Diggs.”
“Sure. Sit down.”
Diggs asks, “So, what do you really think of Commander Hunt?”