by M. L. Maki
It’s freezing cold in the closed hanger as Heinkel continues to inspect the planes pressure cabin. Finally, he stands, shaking his head, “The pressurization system is as robust as we can make it. We need to seal the leaks. I think we will have to weld the cockpit bucket instead of using rivets. Do you believe that will help?”
Moses, “Yes, sir. Welds are less likely to crack under vibration.”
“I agree. We will increase the caulking on the existing aircraft.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Is there anything else you would change?”
“We should inspect the cockpit seals after, and before, each flight.”
“Yes. Yes. I agree. That should fix it.”
Moses thinks to himself, “You would never get me into one of these death traps. No pressure suit. No back up oxygen supply. It’s mad.”
SEATTLE-TACOMA SHIPBUILDING COMPANY, PORT OF TACOMA, WASHINGTON
1820, 21 November, 1942
Lieutenant Commander Oscar Hammond gets out of his ’39 Dodge pickup and walks through the rain into the Navy office. A petty officer asks, “How can I help you, sir.”
“I’m reporting as CHENG to the Dwane Hubler. Where is the captain?”
“He’s at home. Lieutenant JG Petrakis off the Kevin Douglas is the duty officer, sir. First door on the right.”
Hammond walks down the hall and knocks. When he walks in, he sees Donny Petrakis kicked back in a chair reading a book. Hammond grins, “No reading on watch.”
Petrakis leaps to his feet, “Yes, sir…Ham! Ham, how the hell?”
Hammond, “My God, they’ll give anyone a commission, even a Barely Trainable.”
“I see they shortened your monkey mate arms so you look okay in a uniform. I heard you went wing wiper. How the hell are you?”
“I’m pretty good. I served with the Knights in England, but I never went full wing wiper.”
“You’re the first person from the Stoddert I’ve seen since I left the Fife.”
“Is that where you went. That destroyer is commanded by a woman. I heard she kicked ass.”
“She’s one of the best bosses I’ve ever had. We sank twenty-one subs. She commissioned me and trained me as a watch officer.”
“Hunt was by far my best. In no way am I knocking the skipper of the Fife. Where is it now?”
“Mare Island. They’re finally getting a proper bridge. And it’s getting a weapons upgrade. They’re replacing the RIM launcher with a Mark-41 VLS and upgrading the radar and controls for anti-air. There’s a rumor it might become a cruiser.”
“Really?”
“It’s a rumor. When they’re done it will be a full-on Ticonderoga, minus the Aegis radar. Who knows? Where are you assigned?”
Hammond, “I’m the CHENG on the Hubler.”
“Cool. I’m assigned to the Douglas. Maybe we can finagle a swap.”
“No, don’t. The new boat needs your experience. Let it be. Do you need something to eat?”
Petrakis grins, “God, it’s good to see you. Thanks, I’ve eaten.”
NEW YORK CITY
1120, 22 November, 1942
Sam navigates her Packard through the city looking for their hotel. Lee says, “It’s ahead on the right. They’ll have a valet.” She pulls up to the covered walk of the Waldorf Astoria and stops. Sam, Lee, and Ashley get out and are whisked into the hotel as a valet parks the car. The lobby is full of men and women in uniform. She and Lee, in their dress blues, fit right in.
Sam, “Will I have time to go to Grumman? I would like to thank them.”
Lee, “The day after the wedding. It’s when the rest of the squadrons show up to get their jets.”
They see Admiral Craig Klindt and his wife, Julie. Klindt says, “Rick, Ashley, Samantha, good to see you. Rick, might I steal Samantha for lunch?”
Lee smiles, “She has a rehearsal at five.”
“I’m aware. So do I.”
“By all means.”
Hunt and the Klindts are seated in the Peacock Alley restaurant. A waiter takes their lunch order. Craig smiles at Sam, “How are you doing, Samantha?”
She smiles back, “My grandmother fed me up and I’ve been working out. I’m in flying trim.”
“I have no doubt.”
“Thank you. How are you doing?”
Craig, “Busy as usual. Thank you for commissioning the Air Force personnel for me.”
“It was a no brainer. Eisenhower grumped a little, but he understood. Why did you high jack me for lunch?”
The concierge walks up and presents her with her room key. Sam smiles, “Thank you.”
Craig, “Because the Navy has fucked you over and I wanted to talk about it.”
“Craig, we talked about it at Rick’s wedding. I’m done whining about it. I’m okay.”
“Samantha, you’re really good at swallowing your feelings and pushing on. You can talk about it with me. I need to hear it, so I can help.”
Sam takes a sip of tea. “Craig, when we came back in time, I assumed all the women would be dismissed. In a sense, they’re right. We’re being allowed to serve. As I told Admiral King at Rick’s wedding, I don’t expect any more from the leadership.”
“You told him that? Good for you.”
“You know it isn’t the medals. I know Lee damn near threw away his career getting me the Legion.”
“It’s the contrast, and the implied lack of trust.”
“Yes. More than all of that, their actions tell me that our sacrifices, everything I’ve done, everything we all have done, doesn’t matter. If they thought I had done a good job, I would have come back a captain and been given a combat command. Am I wrong?”
“No, you’re absolutely right.”
“I’m proud of my guys and thankful they were rewarded. It’s hard enough for me, but the women who fought beside us, who led in battle, have had their performance dismissed. How do I accept that?”
Julie, “Is that why you turned down dinner at the White House?”
Sam looks at them, “If I go to the White House it means that I accept their assessment of me, and the women under my command. I will continue to do my job. I’ll do my level best to not complain. Lord knows, they think any woman who complains is just being hysterical.”
Julie, “The administration is getting negative press about this. Hemingway wrote a scathing article about the award ceremony in the New York Times. You know, in time the country will come around. Also, start thinking about what you’re going to say on the war bond tour. You will be seen all over the country and your words heard everywhere.”
Sam smiles, “If I tell the truth, the tour will end at one performance.”
Craig, “Tell the truth. Just carefully consider how you do so. You know, the President and Mrs. Roosevelt still want you to come to dinner.”
“Unless another one of my people gets the CMH, I’ve made my last trip to the White House. Call it a little protest.”
“What will you do if King orders you to go?”
“He asked me at Rick’s wedding. I told him I would hand him my oak leaves and go home. They trained me to be a combat leader and now, they just want me to be a good little girl.” She gives him a hard look, “Most of the people see me as a spectacle. Look, the gorilla can do sign language. This isn’t about me. When it’s all over, I’ll be forgotten like yesterday’s news.”
Julie puts her hand on Sam’s arm, “Samantha, that isn’t true. It isn’t at all true. Millions of women, millions of little girls see what you’ve done and they dream of what they can do.”
“I know, and that alone is an unforgivable sin. I know you’re trying. I know Rick is trying. You are both trying to push the avalanche back up the mountain. Look, nothing I can do will ever change their minds. Nothing I achieve will matter. I’m doing this, so a hundred years from now women will be equal. Do you see?”
Craig sighs, “Samantha, we’re making a difference. We’re working at changing the system from the inside. Sam, you�
�ve come a long way. You’ve amazed every person who has even a tiny clue about what you’ve done. Please, don’t give up.”
“I won’t. I’ll bitch, and sometimes, I’ll scream. I will not be silent. I know, I’m volunteering for more crap. This battle won’t be won in my lifetime. Anyway, I doubt I’ll survive the war.”
Julie, “Don’t say that.”
Sam, “I’m not some wet behind the ears neophyte, Julie. I’ve been out there. No matter how good I am, I can die. I have to be good every time. The enemy only has to be good once. Frankly, I don’t care. If I die, I die. I just want to know what I’m doing matters.” She bits her lip, “Damn it. You know they’re taking that away from me.”
Craig takes her hand, “Samantha, look at me.” She obeys, “Not on my watch.”
CHAPTER 22
GRUMMAN PLANT, LONG ISLAND, NY
1635, 22 November, 1942
Commander Michael ‘Too Tall’ Mohr steps off a bus with his bags. He walks up to the gate and presents his ID. “Where will I find the leadership?”
“The first building on your right, sir.”
When he gets inside the building, a man at a desk checks his name against a list. “You can leave your bags behind the desk. Mr. Grumman is upstairs, Commander.”
“Thank you.” He puts his bags behind the man’s desk and takes the stairs to the next floor. He knocks and walks into Leroy Grumman’s office.
Grumman looks up from the papers he was studying, “May I help you?”
“I’m Commander Mohr. I’ve been assigned to stand up the electronic warfare bird.”
“Excellent. Come with me.”
CHURCH OF ST. IGNATIUS LOYOLA, MANHATTAN, NY
1252, 23 November, 1942
In the waiting room Sam, Gloria, and Liz are finishing dressing. Himari Nakamura brushes twelve-year-old Kinuko’s long black hair. Kinuko is John Morrison’s birth mother. She and Sam and Gloria are wearing floor length ice blue satin gowns.
Liz, “Sorry, I couldn’t make it to your wedding, Gloria.”
Gloria grins, “No problem. They would have you married to my husband, too.”
Sam laughs, “I didn’t do it.”
“Don’t worry, Sam. Swede isn’t into threesomes.” The women laugh.
Sam, “Good thing. I would have to hurt him.”
Liz’s grandmother, Marie, walks in, “Hurt who?”
Liz, “Just talking, Grandma.”
“Yes, dear. Now, what is your old, new, borrowed, and blue?”
“Blue underthings, new dress, old necklace and earrings, and a borrowed veil and tiara from Gloria.”
“Very good. I read that Commander Hunt was married. Gloria, when did you marry?”
Sam chuckles, “They got the story wrong. I was there for Gloria’s wedding. I’m still single.”
Marie, “Well, dear. It’s almost time. Commander, there are quite a few single men in attendance. I’ll introduce you.”
“Ma’am, that’s not necessary, but thank you.”
As Liz and Gloria go out to the foyer, Sam turns to Himari and Kinuko, “It’s an honor to meet you.”
Himari looks at her, startled. “Ma’am. Commodore Hunt. It is you who honors us.”
Sam smiles, “Please know, I consider you family.”
Kinuko smiles, “Thank you very much, ma’am.”
They join Gloria and Liz. Mitch Morrison, John’s adoptive father, who’s thirteen, walks over. “Commander, may I speak with you after?”
“Yes, of course, Mitchell.”
The music starts and Mitch takes Kinuko’s hand, smiling. They start down the aisle. Then, it’s Gloria’s turn and she walks to Kinuko. Sam is next. She’s watching John as the music changes and he looks to the back of the church. He’s riveted by Liz, in an elegant lace dress, walking toward him on her grandfather’s arm. Her veil cannot hide her glowing smile.
The priest conducts the solemn ceremony. Then, when they’ve exchanged rings and kissed, he turns them to the congregation, “May I present Commander and Mrs. Morrison.” The music begins and amid the applause they start down the aisle. At the back of the church Lee, Swede, Brown, Mallory, Warren, and Rickover are lined up swords in an arc for the couple to walk through. As has now become a tradition, all of them give Liz a swat.
They stay in formation as Klindt and Sam walk down the aisle. When they reach Lee, he gives Sam a swat. Surprised, she looks at him and he winks. When Gloria approaches with Greg, she raises her hand and motions, ‘bring it on’. They all give her a swat. As Mitch and Kinoku approach the officers sheath their swords, then follow them out of the church.
At the reception, Mitch finds Sam, “Ma’am, I heard from John that you were on Admiral Klindt’s brain trust.”
“I still am.”
“Okay. What happens if I screw up time?”
“Mitch, I screw it up every day. That ship’s sailed.”
He smiles shyly.
She takes his hand and leads him away from the others. “Mitch, what has you so worried?”
“Kinoku. I can’t stand to think that she dies in just ten years.”
“There are no guarantees that will happen this time. There are no guarantees that she and John’s birth father will even meet, or get married. Everything is new.”
He takes a deep breath, “But, if she doesn’t marry Fallon, John will never exist…I can’t…”
Sam smiles, “Mitch, that isn’t how this works. John will be here no matter who she marries.” She takes his hand, “Even if she marries you.”
“How did you…Do you think?”
“I know. Too many things have been changed already. Commander Backus married a Baron’s daughter in Scotland. She, no doubt, would never have married him in my history. Any children they have never existed. Everything is changed. So, you like Kinuko?”
“I do, and she says she likes me. She’s really shy, but she’s so very nice. Am I dumb?”
“No, Mitch. You’re young. Sometimes childhood sweethearts make the absolute best couples. The thing is to respect her and let her grow up and figure out who she’ll be on her own. If you try to make her who you want her to be, instead of who she is, she’ll eventually hate you for it.”
“I won’t. I promise. I just don’t want her to ever die.”
Sam gives Mitch a hug, “Young man, don’t wrap her in pillows. She needs to live her life. If you lift her up and help her chase her dreams, it will draw you closer.”
“I will. I promise.”
“Promise her, not me.”
“Ma’am, I already have.”
“Okay. Good for you. Let’s join the party.”
HITLER’S RESIDENCE, BERLIN, GERMANY
1000, 24 November, 1942
Reich Marshal Hermann Goering briefs in Hitler and his general staff, “Sir, we have six of the Amerika bombers built. Testing continues. There are problems with the cabin pressure system, but the aircraft fly, with a usable payload, at 80,000 feet. They are, by necessity slow, but in the duration test we found it has a range to make it to New York, Chicago, and even Washington, DC. We are nearly ready to deploy them.”
Hitler, “You have six?”
“Yes, Mein Fuhrer.”
“It is not enough. When you have enough to level Manhattan, we attack New York first. Not a symbolic attack. I want it destroyed. Attack and continue attacking. If they are foolish enough to attack Berlin, we will attack Washington, and level it.”
Goering, “Yes, Mein Fuhrer. Another thing to consider. This bomber has the range to fly directly to Japan. It would be an easy method to transfer technology to our ally.”
“Would it need to be altered?”
“All that is needed is a rack to carry the materials we load into the bomb bay. It is easy to configure.”
“Good. First, it is a bomber. We do not destroy America by delivering cargo.”
AIRCRAFT HANGER, GRUMMAN, LONG ISLAND, NY
1500, 24 November, 1942
Spike, Swede, Gand
hi, Thud, Hot Pants, and Lee step up onto a platform. All but Spike and Lee are wearing flight and pressure suits. The rest of the squadron wait at the side of the platform. Spike looks over the crowd of men and women who work at the plant. On the tarmac is a line of brand-new Black Knight jets, all painted as show birds. The black vertical stabilizers are painted with two red triangles pointing forward and down. The new coat of arms is centered on the vertical stabilizers with a crown on top. The ferry tanks are painted black with a silver sword and the words ‘Royal Black Knights’ in red. Behind the Black Knights is a line of Royal White Knight birds. Their vertical stabilizers are light grey with the same colors and layout as the Black Knights.
Lee steps up to the microphone, “I brought some people who want to say thank you.” He waits as the workers cheer. “First, Lieutenant Commander Gloria ‘Hot Pants’ Houlihan. Commander.”
Gloria waits for the cheers to die down, “Hello, Grumman.” Again, the crowd erupts with cheers and cat calls. “Thank you. You. Each and every one of you saved Britain. There is no way we could have done what we did without the parts and new aircraft provided to us by Grumman. I want to offer a profound thank you for what you have done. Your jets saved our lives. Next is Lieutenant Commander Kyle ‘Gandhi’ Jacobs.”
Gandhi waits for the cheering to die down, “All I can add to what sister Hot Pants said is my profound thanks. You turned a nightmare into a bad dream. Thank you. Next, is brother Swede. Commander Stephan ‘Swede’ Swedenborg.”
Swede takes the mic and waits for the crowd to quiet, “Houlihan and Jacobs said it. At the worst, we had four barely flyable ‘14Bs. England would have fallen. All would have been lost, were it not for you.” He waits, smiling. “I see the birds lined up behind you. Starting tomorrow the Black Knights will take them into harm’s way. I’m not much for speeches, so thank you. Next is Commander Frank ‘Thud’ Jackson.”
Thud takes the mic. He’s so quiet, the crowd must quiet to hear him. When he realizes he cannot be heard, he speaks up, “You saved my life. You gave me a future I would have lost. You saved so much that is lovely and beautiful in the world. No words of gratitude can ever encompass my thanks to you.” There follows a profound silence, then the crowd cheers. When they settle, he says, “Next is Commander Samantha ‘Spike’ Hunt.”