by M. L. Maki
A roar of “Heil Hitler” rings out.
Nata, “Yes. One bullet. It would be your last act.”
Moses, “True. It would be worth it.”
CHAPTER 33
PATUXENT RIVER NAS, MARYLAND
1415, 14 December, 1942
Spike, “You know, Bobby, this is the last flight of 211.”
“Yes, ma’am. She was new a little over a year ago.”
“You’re right. It’s been a hell of a year.”
“Yep. Why did you choose me for the last flight?”
Sam is silent for a moment. “I felt it should be you. Somewhere Mosey is smiling. When he was killed, you took over and…Oh, hell, Bobby, I still miss him. You’ve done an incredible job. You held the team together and performed miracles. This plane has been your baby. I know that. Thank you for keeping her flying.”
“Thanks, Spike. I miss him, too. You hear that, Mosey?”
Sam laughs, “Thanks, Bobby. Okay, sterile cockpit.” She keys the mic, “Patuxent, Blue Angel 1. Request to marshal.”
“We have you on radar, Blue Angel 1. Come to 095 and descend to angels 2.”
“095. Angels 2. Blue Angel 1.”
A few moments later she flares and lands. As she taxi’s, “Last time.”
Geller is quiet. The yellow shirt guides her into position as he has done so many times before. She sees the whole squadron in formation and waiting. Sam, “Bobby, why the show?”
“We’re the Blue Angels, Spike. We do it right every single time.”
“Roger that.” She and Bobby unass the bird. She sees Admirals Lee and Klindt watching. She takes them through the ceremony. When they’re done, she stands in front of her squadron, “Well done.” She about faces, salutes and says, “Blue Angels, reporting.”
Lee and Klindt return her salute and approach. Klindt, “We would inspect your command.”
“Yes, sir.” Klindt, Lee, and Spike walk the formation. Klindt has a kind word for each of the sailors and Marines. Then the three officers return to the front of the formation.
Lee, “First, for exceptional devotion to duty, the Blue Angels have been issued the Meritorious Unit Citation. Because of the nature of the Blue Angels as the Navy’s air demonstration team, it has been decided not to give this squadron a war time record. The Blues are ambassadors. They can’t be warfighters.
“I’m assigning the Marine cadre to the USS Carl Vinson to replace a squad that is rotating out. The ground crew division will be assigned to the Black Knights. Senior Chief, you will be assigned as the Senior enlisted advisor. I’m stealing Master Chief Bond for force master chief. Lieutenant Wright, your crew and aircraft will be returned to Navy Logistics Squadron 7. All of you have done exceptionally well.” He turns to Hunt, “Dismiss your command, Commander.”
Sam, “Blue Angels, it has been an honor to serve with every one of you. Each of you will be a gift to your next command. Two weeks transit leave is approved. Chief Cooper has the paperwork. Thank you for everything you have done. You each take a part of my heart with you.” She takes a breath and composes herself, “Blue Angels, fall out and God Speed.” She turns to Lee and Klindt and salutes.
Lee, “I know it’s hard, Darlin’. We’ll talk in the car.”
Cooper loads her bags and Buford’s in back of the Navy sedan and salutes her, “Ma’am, where ever you go, I’ll be there.”
She returns the salute, “Thank you, Cooper. Thank you for everything.”
Buford comes forward and Klindt motions him over, “Please, ride with me, Lieutenant. We should talk.”
Jere visibly swallows, “Yes, sir.”
Sam notices and smiles at Jere, then gets into Lee’s car. When they’re on their way, Lee asks, “When do you want to report to Oceana to stand up your air group?”
She takes a deep breath, “Dad, the CAG position…I want it for Swede. When the story breaks about him and Gloria, they can’t be on the same ship. Please, give the CAG to Swede”
His eyes hard, he looks at her, “I’m not passing you over again.”
“Dad, it’s the right thing to do, right now. They, and John and Liz, are the first officer couple. With Thud it’s different because of the rank difference. Gloria and Swede can’t deploy together. If the story breaks while they’re on the same ship, it’ll create a mess and screw every couple coming after, including me.”
“What do you want to do?”
“I want to go back to sea. I want to fly. Eisenhower, Halsey, and Captain Johnson would all like me on their staff. That would be okay, if I can’t fly. I just can’t do a bond tour.”
“How was it?”
“I made some amazing friends, but the whole thing was rocks and shoals. The Major is unsuited for continued service. He undercut and back stabbed me at every turn. I have no doubt he’s doing so now. Dad, he assumed he had the rights to my life story. He threatened to blackmail Jere and I when he figured out our relationship.”
“I’ll pass the word to General Marshall. How are you?”
Sam smiles, “I’m tired. I’m also resolved. For the first time since I left Britain, I’m making the decision to do the right thing. Dad, it actually feels good. I’m done reacting.”
“Okay, then. Tomorrow is Christmas. The next two days are the weekend. We’ll figure it out and assign you on Monday. Where is your guy?”
She grins mischievously, “Riding with Craig.”
ADMIRAL KLINDT’S CAR
Klindt turns to Buford, “I think it would be a good thing for us to get to know each other. Your name?”
“Yes, sir. Jeremiah Buford, sir.”
Craig smiles, “May I tell you a history lesson?”
“Um, of course, sir.”
“A little over a year ago, we on the Vinson went through a strange storm. The storm that brought us back in time. I was the Reactor Officer. Now, please understand, we did not know we had come back in time. That sort of thing just isn’t intuitive. The logical and intelligent thing to do was to put together a team to figure out what was what. Captain Johnson assigned me to stand up a brain trust. That was when I met Samantha Hunt. She was instrumental in resolving the questions we had, and proving our theories. Her actions there catapulted her to where she is now. She’s a warrior, a leader, and an amazing woman. I’m quite fond of her. Now, I pride myself on being observant. Who is she to you?”
Buford looks Klindt right in the eyes, “Short answer, sir. I love her.”
Craig smiles, “I see. Who are you, Lieutenant?”
“Sir, I’m a SEAL. I’ve deployed on missions, sir. In the greater scheme, I’m a little cog in the giant navy gear box. Who I am doesn’t matter. I want her to succeed. I want it more than I want success for myself. She matters.”
Craig, “I, too, want her to succeed. Not only for her own sake, but for what it can mean for our country and our world. I take it Admiral Lee knows?”
“She told him I was coming out. I have yet to talk to him. I did speak with Admiral Halsey. I asked for his blessing. I wrote a letter to her father. I know he’s overseas. Tonight, I’ll ask for Admiral Lee’s blessing. As soon as I can, I’ll ask her grandfather. Also, sir, I will ask you. Do I have your blessing, sir?”
Klindt smiles and nods, “You know she’s not an easy person to love?”
“Yes, sir. Hers is an incredibly hard path. I can’t walk it for her and I’d never ask her to turn away from it. I recognize at least a little of what it is that she must do. I also know, she needn’t walk it alone.”
“You have my blessing, my hopes, and my prayers.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Where are you staying?”
“At Admiral Lee’s house, sir.”
To the driver, “Do you know where it is?”
“I do, sir.”
“I hope you brought your dress uniform, Buford. She has a way of ending up in those circles, not that she’ll go to the White House.”
“I did, sir.”
“Do you know w
hy she keeps declining the White House invitations?”
“Yes, sir. I agree with her.”
Craig smiles, “So do I.”
The driver says, “We’re here, sir.”
Buford shakes Klindt’s hand, “Thank you, sir,”
“Thank you, Buford. I wish you both the best. If there’s time, Julie and I would love to have you both over.”
“I’ll let her know.” He gets out and walks onto the porch and Klindt leaves. Jere looks over at a Packard in the driveway, “The Admiral likes nice cars.”
Sam steps out of the front door, “It’s mine, love. Still alive? Still have your skin? How’s Craig?”
Jere walks into her arms and kisses her. He pulls back, “It was fine. He’s Craig to you? To me he’s a don’t fuck up in front of the four-star admiral. By the way, we’re invited to his home for dinner sometime.”
She chuckles, “He’s that, too. Come in. Your bag is already upstairs.”
They go inside the warm house and Ashley comes out of the kitchen, “Come on, Sam, introduce us.” She turns and goes back into the kitchen.
Sam laughs, “Ashley, this is Jeremiah Buford. Jere, meet Ashley Lee.”
Ashely shakes his hand, “A pleasure to meet you. Now, why don’t you two go upstairs and change. Dinner will be on in a bit. We can have coffee. Rick will be back in a bit. Admiral stuff at the office.”
Sam leads Buford upstairs and they change into casual clothes. Going back downstairs, Jere grabs a kiss. “I needed that, Sam.”
There’s coffee on the stove when they get back to the kitchen. Jere gets a cup and sips, “Thank you, ma’am. I needed this.”
Ashley grins, “Please, just Ashley. I’m adopting Samantha’s policy on ‘ma’am.’
He grins back, “Just Jere.”
Ashley, “Good. In this house, the vice admiral is called Rick. When you’re out in the world, it’s Admiral. Okay?”
Jere looks at Sam, “You live a crazy life, love.”
“I do. Is that okay?”
“It’s great. I just need to wrap my head around Vice Admiral Dad and Admiral Craig.”
“I understand. I saw Captain Johnson when we were in Seattle. He commands the Carl Vinson. He told me to call him William, or Will. I felt like I was in the principal’s office. Most of my interactions with him were when I was a lieutenant.”
Ashley, “How’s he doing?” She hands plates to Jere and silverware to Sam and they set the table. Then she pulls a tray of cookies out of the oven and puts another tray in.
Sam, “Good. Still single. I think he’s dating a local girl. Mostly, we talked Navy. He wanted the skinny on the Germans. Also, he wanted me to know he was on my side. He’s pissed about the whole thing.”
Ashley gives her a huge smile, “Good. I was sure he was. It’s a wrong that needs to be righted, Sam. Rick and I are working the Hill on this one. It must change.”
Sam, “I’m setting that aside and focusing on my job.”
Jere, “Did Ad…Rick tell you what your next assignment is?”
Sam kisses his cheek, “He’s sorting it out. He understands the decision I made concerning Swede.”
Ashley, “You just got here. What decision?” Sam explains. Ashley, “Sam, you’re right. Rick has been so focused on the production end; he forgets to manage his personnel.”
Sam, “It all has to be done. I think he needs another chief of staff. The one he has isn’t keeping all the balls in the air.”
Ashely gives her a coy look, “Are you volunteering?”
Sam smiles, “I’m not the right person, either. It needs someone who has skills on the Hill, too. If asked, I would do my best, but it isn’t in my wheel house.”
Ashley checks the cookies, “Just a few more minutes.” She puts some cooled cookies on a plate and sets it on the table, then sits down with her own cup of coffee. She looks at the Sam and Jere, “It’s Christmas eve in the middle of a war and my family is going to be all together. It’s a Christmas miracle.” She smiles contentedly and takes a cookie.
POINT LOMA, CALIFORNIA
1830, 24 December, 1942
Lyle ‘Packs’ Boxter, Kyle ‘Gandhi’ Jacobs, John ‘Gunner Hardin’, and Hardin’s wife, Paula, join Swede and Gloria in their back garden. They see two rows of small white crosses at the edge of the grass. Swede opens a bottle of California red wine and fills six glasses. “Merry Christmas.”
They pick up their glasses and find chairs. Swede and Gloria cuddle in a porch swing. Gloria raises her glass, “Guys, last Christmas we were lost. We were out to sea and acutely feeling the separation from our families, and our lives. It’s been a long and difficult year. All of us have faced loss.” She looks over at the crosses and takes a breath. “We have so much yet to do. Next year most of us will be separated from each other. We have to go where the war takes us.” She hugs Swede, “But, we’re family. We created a family out of the ashes of our loss. I ask that we let nothing but distance ever stand between us.” She raises her glass higher, then takes a sip. They all drink.
Lyle, “Swede, do you think Spike will get her way?”
Swede smiles, “Yeah. I’ll probably be standing up a new air wing soon.”
Gunner, “Any idea what squadron’s you’ll have?”
Gloria, “Are we going to talk shop all night?” They stop and look at her. She smiles mischievously, “Paula, do you know how to keep a fighter pilot from telling stories?”
“No.”
Gloria laughs, “You tie their hands.”
Paula looks puzzled for a moment, then laughs. Gunner groans. “God, you really had to reach for that one.”
Swede, “Do you know the difference between a fairy tale and a sailor story?” He pauses and looks around. Gandhi shakes his head and Packs smiles, “A fairy tale begins, ‘Once upon a time.’ Sailor stories begin, ‘Now, this is no bullshit.’”
OFFICER’S CLUB, NAS PENSACOLA, FLORIDA
1630, 24 December, 1942
Commander Frank ‘Thud’ Jackson is eating dinner with his wife, Ensign Abigail ‘Thump’ Jackson, Commander Truman ‘Johnny’ Walker, Lieutenant Commander Ashley ‘Rose’ Thorn, and Lieutenant Commander Phil ‘Rascal’ Tyler. The club is decorated for Christmas and is packed with Naval officers and their wives and girlfriends eating their dinners, drinking, and dancing.
Abigail, “Johnny, thank you for coming up with an excuse to get Frank here for Christmas.”
Johnny, “It was the least I could do. That, and it’s legit training he’s doing.”
Ashley, “You know, Thud, you should be running this whole command. Your knowledge needs to be shared.”
Thud, “Yeah, but I like being at sea. You’re right, though. Anyway, it would be a problem for Abby if I was commanding her school.”
Abigail, “Honey, do you want to be here?”
He makes eye contact with his wife, realizing what she’s asking, “I have to admit, I like teaching. The powers that be, don’t want me doing combat sorties.” He looks at the others at the table, “I’ve only had my squadron for a couple of months. I wanted it trained up for Gloria when she gets it. Rose, Johnny, Rascal, can you give me another three to four months?”
Rose, “In four months, Abigail will graduate.”
Thud, “That fast?”
Johnny, “She’s that good. Mind, she still has to land on a carrier.”
Thud, “Are they dedicating an Essex class as a training carrier?”
Johnny, “They’re converting the Wasp with an angled deck, arresting wires, and a catapult. Lockheed is working on a training jet.”
Thud grimaces, “It’s the big test. No matter how good you are at stick and rudder flying, if you can’t get back on the boat, you can’t fly Navy.”
Abigail, “I can do it, love.”
Thud, “I know. Many can’t.”
BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL, MARYLAND
1710, 24 December, 1942
Lieutenant Commander Eric ‘Puck’ Hawke accepts a cup of co
ffee from his great grandfather, John Hawke. “Thank you, Grandfather.” They sit in the lounge watching snow fall outside the hospital. “Grandfather, is our family facing hardship because you are here?”
“Our family knows little but hardship. My daughters and their husbands get by as your grandfather serves in the Army.”
“I’m glad you’re with me, but I fear I’m being greedy of your time.”
“My time is mine to give, son. You are our future. You are the tomorrow we cannot see. Do not be regretting yesterday, waste today, and lose your tomorrow.”
“Damn it, Grandfather. I feel cooped up. I’m almost healed. I know I’ll be flying soon, but right now; I feel useless.”
“Would you fly with your Commander again?”
Eric smiles, thinking, “I’d like that, but it won’t happen. She’s getting an air group. CAG’s generally don’t fly.”
“But you wish to be with her.”
“I love her, Grandfather.”
“You love her?”
“I want her for my wife.”
John, “Want. I want the buffalo to darken the plains. I want our sacred lands back. I can want in one hand and spit in the other. I know which will get wet. We all have wants. What do you need, son?”
“Must I discard my dreams, Grandfather?”
“Are you awake? Dreams live in the sleep world. This dream you have is about yesterday. What do you build for tomorrow? What do you need?”
Puck feels pressure in his chest and tears on his cheeks, “I…I need to serve my nation. My people.”
John smiles and softens his tone, “Yes. But you do not need to do it alone. Man is meant to share his life. We are strongest this way. Also, a woman brings strong children into the tribe. Your commander walks a man’s path. She walks it well and deserves great respect. But is she the woman to bear your children? Is she the one to care and nurture your children while you fight the war?”
“The war will end, Grandfather. Then, she will see me.”
“She fights for a woman’s place in a man’s world. Will her war end? Will she so completely change her nature to be satisfied to be your wife? To stay home and raise your children? Her man must be born of the fight and live for the fight. She walks the warrior’s way. You son, seek the path of peace. And well you should.”