by Helen Wells
Charlie went on. “It’s this way, Sis. The fragments we found in the plane were the residue from the shell case that burst as it entered the plane. There are probably more of them if anyone looks carefully enough. But the tiny balls went on and penetrated Gene’s shoulder from the front. They exploded only after entering the flesh deeply. That accounts for the fact that the big hole was at the back of his shoulder.”
Gene nodded again and this time Cherry did too.
“And if the explosive metal is smokeless to boot, you can see how mystified everybody would be. Right?” Charlie finished triumphantly. “Now, Gene, it’s your turn.”
Cherry sat very still at the edge of the bed, trying not to bounce in her excitement. Charlie, too, was leaning forward nervously for what Gene might finally disclose.
The flier, seated very erect in the chair in his bathrobe, looked oddly old for so young a man. He seemed to be trying to arrange his thoughts, frowning a little.
“In the first place,” he started, “there was a plane. You were up front and looking forward, not sideways as I was. The rest of the crew didn’t see it. I was slow in warning you on the interphone, because I’d been hit—apparently from quite a distance—and I was too stunned for a minute or two to talk. And you all were a little slow in looking around. Maybe you thought I was dreaming, or I guess we weren’t expecting a plane just at that spot. Anyway, by the time you looked, the plane was gone.”
Charlie’s shrewd blue eyes were wide with disbelief. “Are you certain, partner? Must have been an awfully fast plane. I never heard of anything as fast as that.”
“That’s the point,” Gene explained. “None of us ever heard of it. I was so surprised I almost didn’t believe my own eyes. Because that plane was incredibly fast. And it fired from incredibly far away. Just before I—took sick, I learned of a new plane that the Nazis have. Special assignment given to a small group of us. It’s very, very fast and mounts a new kind of rocket gun. That new gun fires shells of an extraordinary explosive force. Those planes and shells hum over the water making a sound like a bee. So we call that new plane—or at least that new gun and shell—the ‘bumblebee.’”
“But,” Cherry objected, “that’s a German gun. We’re fighting Japs on this side of the world.”
Gene nodded in his quiet way. “Agreed. But why couldn’t one enemy have a new weapon just as well as the other enemy? I don’t say it’s the same weapon. But maybe the Japs have a new gun or plane on the ‘bumblebee’ principle, or on a similar principle, Or a plane so built that a gun fires from an unexpected and therefore doubly dangerous angle.” He indicated Charlie’s sketch of where the Jinx was hit.
“Well, it’s an idea, anyway,” Charlie said. “It gives us a parallel idea, an example of how to approach our own problem. Go on.”
“In the second place,” Gene continued, “I think we were shot at not only by the plane which disappeared so fast, but by other guns too.”
“Where?” Cherry demanded. “Land-based? On concealed or camouflaged ships lying close to land?”
Charlie said thoughtfully, “We were watching every mile of land and sea below us, and we didn’t see any guns. Not even any smoke. Of course, guns could easily be camouflaged. And as for smoke, I’m positive now that this new shell is smokeless.”
Cherry noticed that Gene was perspiring from nervousness, and she did not want her patient worn out. He could not afford to suffer a relapse, especially with the date of his mission so close now. So she said, pocketing the diagram:
“I think that’s enough for this afternoon. Gene must rest now.”
As usual, the nurse’s word in the sickroom was law. Charlie obediently got to his feet, “I’m going straight to the Intelligence Officer with Gene’s new information plus what we figured out. I want Captain May to have every scrap of information, and pronto! So long, kids, I’m off for the airport,” and Charlie left them.
Cherry tucked Gene in. She should have left him alone to fall asleep, but they both were excitedly thinking about the plane.
“If the Jap plane I saw was based on land reasonably near by, that means—” Gene started.
At the same moment Cherry said, “If shells also came from land, as you think, forty minutes from here, then there must be——”
They stared at each other, thinking the same thing. Cherry tried to laugh but it was uneasy laughter.
“Then that means,” Gene concluded soberly, “that there are Japs on Islands 20 or 21, where we thought there were no Japs! Japs secreted there, lying in wait for us! Man alive, we have stumbled onto something!”
“That settles it!” Cherry exclaimed. She started out of the flier’s room as fast as she could go.
“Where are you going?” he called after her.
Cherry halted. “To the Commanding Officer to report this!”
He warned her, “But there’s nothing definite to report! From what I’ve heard of him, this Colonel will ask you for a million proofs—and you have no proof at all!”
“Never mind that,” Cherry said firmly, looking impatiently toward the command post hill. “At least I’m going to return these fragments and tell him everything I know! Even if we can’t explain the shots, we can deduce that there are Japs hiding on 20 or 21! And that’s of more immediate importance—that’s urgent!”
“Well, good luck,” Gene called dubiously, as Cherry bolted out of the tent.
She ran up the hill, and into the railed enclosure. At the tent opening, she paused, scared. Maybe she was simply inviting trouble! But this was something which involved the safety of her patients, of the whole island! This might mean a surprise enemy action! At the very least, even on an off-chance, it should be reported! It would be flagrant denial of her duty if she kept still now!
“Yes, Lieutenant Ames?” Colonel Pillsbee was at his desk. He glanced up and dryly regarded her.
Cherry stepped through the doorway rather defensively. When she looked closely at the Colonel she realized he was ill. He was in full uniform and on the job but her trained nurse’s knowledge told her that he was running a high temperature. Even his funny, bright yellow hair looked limp. What was it? From his voice, she guessed something was wrong with his throat—could it be bronchial fever? She roused herself from these speculations to answer the Commanding Officer’s question.
“I have a confession to make, sir,” Cherry started bravely. She took from her pocket the particles of metal and placed them on his desk.
“What’s the meaning of this, Lieutenant Ames?” the Colonel gruffly demanded.
Cherry explained rapidly. She waited for Colonel Pillsbee to scold, but, perhaps because he was too ill, he merely nodded and skeptically waited for her to go on. She wished he would ask her to sit down, but he seemed in a hurry and let her stand there awkwardly.
“Well, it’s this, Colonel Pillsbee,” Cherry said, fighting to sound sensible and calm. “In the course of treating the wounded flier, several new facts came to light, which I feel you should know.” She told him about the visit that she and Charles had made to the plane, what they had discovered and what Gene had told them. “Now that is all we know for a fact,” Cherry said carefully. She was afraid he would not listen farther. “But I should like to mention, sir, the conclusions these facts seem to point to.”
“Don’t you think,” Colonel Pillsbee said wryly, “that you might leave the interpretation of the facts to the Commanding Officer? Or to Captain May? However, continue, Lieutenant Ames.”
Pretty fair of him, after all! Cherry thought gratefully and hurried on.
“These are the conclusions, sir—just possibilities—but, well, perhaps you would like to consider them.” And Cherry told the Commanding Officer about the chances of a new enemy weapon, and the likelihood that enemy troops were hidden for a surprise attack on a forward island. She finished and waited, uneasily studying Colonel Pillsbee’s feverish face.
“Very interesting, Lieutenant Ames,” he observed. “Yes, I agree, such things
are possible. It is also possible that the sun may fall out of the sky. But it is not very likely. My dear young lady, years of experience have taught me that it is necessary to be cautious and slow before leaping to any wild ideas. We must prove ideas before we believe in them.”
Cautious and slow! At a moment like this! She had to make him see—she had to convince him! Desperately, she tried another tack.
“What do you think, sir, of the possibility of the enemy hiding on Islands 20 or 21, for a surprise attack?”
Colonel Pillsbee gave her an impatient glance, but he deigned to answer. “There again, Lieutenant, we do not have sufficient evidence to weigh, to be certain that that is a tenable viewpoint.”
“But, sir—” Cherry swallowed hard and mustered up courage to speak out of turn to the Commander. “Even if there’s just one chance, isn’t it safer to——”
Colonel Pillsbee ran his hand over his forehead and eyes in such a gesture of illness and weariness that Cherry forbore to insist any more. Besides, she knew her duty stopped with reporting the information. The Commanding Officer would do whatever he saw fit for the security of this island. But his next words astonished her.
“Lieutenant Ames, believe me, I am just as deeply concerned about the safety of Island 14 as you are. For your peace of mind, let me say, however, that I consider your report and your so-called conclusions relatively unimportant, in view of—” he hesitated, then said with slow emphasis, “in view of other military action being planned.”
Cherry hesitated, thinking. The “other military action being planned” was something she had already guessed from what she had seen at the airport at night, from the quantity of the supplies coming in, and from the special mission planned for Gene. Of course she did not know what it was, but it might be an offensive action. Well, perhaps that did put her information in the shade. It was true she did not have full knowledge of the military situation, as Colonel Pillsbee did, and perhaps if she saw her “mystery” facts in relation to the full story, they might be unimportant. But even so—even so—there might be immediate danger and the C.O. apparently was not going to do anything at all about it!
“You may consider the matter closed, Lieutenant Ames. Your participation ends here. Good afternoon.”
He was dismissing her! Terribly discouraged, Cherry saluted and left. Her feet, carrying her slowly down the hill, felt like lead. She reported a secret weapon—the chance of hidden enemies—and Colonel Pillsbee promised only to think it over, and act slowly and cautiously! Cherry had confidence in the wisdom of the Commanding Officer’s decisions, but this time, Old Safe and Sane might be too slow—and too late!
Cherry walked miserably along the edge of camp. She suddenly realized that she should call up the airport and tell her brother of Gene’s and her further deductions. Charlie was probably reporting what he knew to the Intelligence Officer right now. Perhaps the Intelligence Officer would consider this more urgent than the Commanding Officer did! And if he should, Captain May was in a position to urge Colonel Pillsbee to take some immediate steps. Cherry felt as if a load had been lifted from her, and she ran all the way back to her own Headquarters tent.
The tent was deserted except for some corpsmen, working in a far corner, as she lifted the field telephone and tried to reach the airport.
There was a short wait, then a man’s voice came through.
“Lieutenant Charles Ames, please,” Cherry requested. “It’s—it’s rather urgent.”
Again a wait. Then the man’s voice said, “Lieutenant Ames is—well, he’s not around.” And Cherry heard the roar of a plane motor behind his voice.
“So Charlie is being sent on a flight, he’s about to take off—and they can’t tell me over the telephone. But he wasn’t scheduled for a flight!” Cherry thought to herself. She felt frightened and mixed-up. She said into the telephone, “Why is he being sent—I mean, is there still a few seconds to get an urgent message to him?”
The voice demanded sharply, “Who is this? And what is this urgent matter?”
Cherry said meekly that this was Lieutenant Ames’s sister.
“Oh. Just a moment.” There were voices conferring in the background, and then a different voice came over Cherry’s field telephone.
“Hello, this is Captain May. Don’t be alarmed about your brother. He is just taking the place of a man in another transport crew who fell ill. A routine flight. It’s a sort of hurry-up, last-minute substitution.”
“Thank you, Captain May,” Cherry said gratefully. “Well, I guess that’s all, then.”
“You told the signalman you had an urgent message,” Captain May caught her before she hung up. “Was it a personal message, or something you wish to relay?”
“It’s not a personal message,” Cherry said uneasily, “but it’s nothing I dare relay over the telephone. It really is urgent.” She hesitated, thinking what a golden chance this was to report the danger to the Intelligence Officer. But she remembered conscientiously that the Commanding Officer had told her her part in the matter ended here.
But Captain May decided for her. His crisp voice said, “I’m going to be in the hospital area in about half an hour. Perhaps this is something I should hear about. I’ll stop by to see you, Lieutenant Ames.” And he hung up.
That was how Cherry, in spite of Colonel Pillsbee’s instruction, came to tell the Intelligence Officer her own interpretation of the mystery. He pumped the information out of her. Cherry had no choice but to tell him. He already knew all the facts from Charlie, but facts only—it was Cherry who rashly leaped from those facts to conclusions. He listened acutely, his pencil jotting notes on the back of the diagram of the Jinx. She was half glad, half distressed, at the unorthodox thing she had done. It was dangerous to interfere in anything as vital as this, dangerous to incur the Colonel’s wrath, but was it not more dangerous not to report this? What made up her mind was what Captain May said, after she had finished.
“I think your conclusions are right, Lieutenant Ames, proven or not. I’m going to Colonel Pillsbee at once. There may not be a minute to lose.”
The matter was out of her hands now!
The next thing Cherry knew, she was called out of Mess and up the hill, for the bitterest rebuke she had ever had from Colonel Pillsbee.
“Not an hour after I give you orders, I find you have broken them!” Colonel Pillsbee fumed. He was as near to open anger as his rigid self-discipline and his ingrained politeness would permit.
Cherry shuddered. From his stern face, she knew this was the end.
“Unfortunately, Lieutenant Ames,” he addressed her sternly, “this is not the first occasion on which I have found it necessary to reprimand you. But this time you have defied a major Army regulation.” He paused, then slowly and deliberately announced:
“Your three-month probationary period is now up. You know that I, as well as Major Pierce, must write a report on you. Very well.” His bony fingers tapped the desk. “I shall write to Washington, this very evening, to recommend that you be relieved of your post as Chief Nurse!”
But Colonel Pillsbee never wrote that letter. That evening, shortly after twilight, as soon as the first darkness came, guns roared and fire spat down from the sky. The enemy, whom Cherry had suspected to be in hiding, showed themselves with a vengeance. They opened an offensive attack on the Americans on the forward islands, and their deadly Zeros swooped down in the night and bombed Island 14.
CHAPTER X
Under Fire
THROUGH THE NOISE AND SMOKE AND BLACKNESS, Cherry ran for the slit trench. She hurled herself flat in the dirt and grabbed the arm of the unseen person she had landed on.
“Any nurses in this trench?” Cherry gasped out.
“Yes!” Vivian shouted back. “Bertha and Marie and me.”
“We’ve got to get to the patients!” Cherry jammed down her helmet, felt for the gas mask which the nurses carried at all times, and stood up in the shallow trench. A bursting shell screamed on the beach
and Cherry’s figure was silhouetted in its red light. “Come on!” she ordered.
She ran, with the three nurses stumbling behind her, through a wild confusion of flying dirt and smoke and whistling shells. She was not thinking; her previous military training automatically thought for her now. Her fear was a live, useful thing that drove her to animal caution against this crashing world. She had to marshal the nurses. Here was the terrible emergency for which they had drilled and organized. They had to get to the patients—to carry them out of the ward tents and into slit trenches. Were any of the tents hit?
Panting and choking, she peered over her shoulder to see Vivian and Marie and Bertha racing to their own wards. Their trousered figures in the broken light, bent half double, seemed to run in slow motion, so long did each terrible moment last under fire. Someone seized Cherry’s arm. It was Captain Penrose, the corpsmen’s commander.
“Ward 2 is hit! I’ve detailed twenty corpsmen over there, evacuating!” he yelled.
“Any killed?”
“No, don’t think so.” Another shell crashed on the beach and drowned out some of his words. “—corpsmen are all on the job—going to Ward 2 myself—you better go on to the other wards, Ames!”
“Right!” Cherry sprinted off toward the ward tents and huts huddled under the limp palm trees. The trees swayed and their fronds nearly brushed the ground under the roar of the wind which the buzzing, low-diving Jap planes had whirled up. Then there was a shattering roar from the beach, so loud and close that Cherry staggered. From the heart of the island came two more earth-shaking concussions that nearly deafened her. She suddenly realized, “That’s our own anti-aircraft! That’s our own heavy guns taking care of us!” Then she realized the unseen planes were fleeing and screaming away, out over the water. A great pillar of flame lifted from where Ward 2 had been.
Cherry’s fear turned to fury. The beasts, inhuman killers! Bombing a hospital. Bombing the helpless wounded!
She ran, thinking faster than she ever had before, thinking clearly and purposefully. Never mind Ward 2. The corpsmen and Captain Penrose were taking care of that. She had to get to the other wards. Find out if any other ward was hit. How many casualties? Were any of the nurses wounded and unable to work? Was Operating Room left standing? How lucky that our anti-aircraft men had driven the strafing planes away before they had more than a minute or two to kill!