Circles in the Sand

by D. Sallen

  At the Quonset hut, Clint explained with a map of the gunnery range how he wanted each group to proceed. Out on the southern boundary road, Clint drove three miles past the center road and turned north. Three miles further he stopped. “We should be somewhere close to where target number two will be set up.”

  “Clint how in hell can we set these things up without knowing for sure where they are? Seems to me going by Jeep mileage is pretty loose.”

  “Yeah, we don’t have any real boundary markers. LC Lerner said he’s get us some survey equipment. Just hope someone shows up that knows how to use it.

  “Anyway, another six miles due north ought to put us somewhere near target three.”

  When they stopped, Lance said, “Not much in the way of features out here. A lot of tumbleweeds, sand and scrub grass. Some rolling hills but they don’t amount to much.”

  “Lets take a walk around. On foot we may see more than we can by chugging past in the Jeep.”

  Clint walked up a small rise to the west. He could see a small dust cloud. Using his field glasses he could make out a herd of cattle moving off ahead of a lone rider.

  I wonder if he saw us coming this way? If so, why is he taking them away? Surely he didn’t think we’d bother his cows now. Clint turned and waved his hat to Lance and Alcocke. “Come here…” Before he could finish, he heard a loud snort behind him. He turned, “Ohh, oh. Not all the audience appreciates me waving” He froze. The bull pawed the ground with one hoof while it studied Clint. The animal was undecided until Alcocke appeared over the rise. Dropping his head, the bull charged at Clint. “Split for the Jeep!” He hollered.

  Alcocke turned and ran to hide behind the Jeep. Well to the side, Lance saw Clint’s peril…jumped…waved his cap…shouted, “Hey bull! Hey bull!” Distracted, the bull wheeled toward him. Clint dodged out of the way. His movement distracted the bull from Lance. It stopped. Clint slipped behind it. When it whirled, Clint dashed to the Jeep and jumped over it. The bull charged the Jeep…lost sight of the two hidden men… stopped…looked over the vehicle.

  Off to the side, Lance slid down and lay flat on his stomach. Lying on the ground, peering under the wheels at the bull’s legs, Clint tried to think of some way to scare it off: If it weren’t so damn close, I could scare it with engine noise, but I don’t want to share a seat with the beast. No horn on the Jeep. Before long, the bored bull wandered off over the rise.

  Now a horseman appeared, flicked a whip at the bull, and herded it to the west. Then Basil Tree rode back towards the airmen. “Hey, what all you fly boys doing down in the dirt? You fixing to be ground pounders? Haw haw haw.”

  “I reckon that bull was your doing, Tree. You havin’ fun, farmer?” Lance said. Gettin up he spat dust into the dirt.

  “Naw. I musta missed it. Shucks, I bet you guys was a sight getting outta its way. Too bad I wasn’t closer.”

  Getting back in the Jeep, Alcocke stood and shouted, “You won’t think its so goddamn funny when five hundred pound bombs are chasing your bulls ass!”

  “Hey, ain’t you the sassy one. Ain’t no bombs gonna fall on this place. I’ll tell you right now. Fritz Deutsh gonna make sure they ain’t.” He rolled his whip up and turned after the bull.

  “You’re just full of shit cowboy!”

  Tree turned back in his saddle. “Hey little fart, you’re lucky I don’t just come back there and stuff it in yore mouth.” He kept riding.

  Lance said, “I’ll give you credit for nerve, Alcocke. Telling off a fool with a bull whip takes more guts than sense.”

  “I don’t care. He just pissed me off.”

  They arrived aback at the Quonset before Elsas’ party. When the latter arrived, Clint and crew told them what had happened to the west side team.

  “You guys have any excitement, Elsas?”

  “Yeah, some. We drove around the area. We came across your tracks from where you must have figured target one is. Out of curiosity I headed over to the river from there. We went around a marsh on the east end. Didn’t want to take a chance on getting bogged down, so didn’t turn north until we were on firm ground. Instead of going back to the river we headed north, but by now I’d lost track of where we were from target one.

  “Anyway, hadn’t gone too far when someone shoots a shotgun over our heads. I slammed on the brakes and we looked around. Couldn’t see anyone, so I hollered, ‘who’s the idiot shooting at us?’”

  An old geezer in a big hat stands up. “Wasn’t shootin’ at you…or you’d be full a holes. Now get the hell of my range. You’ll be scaring the lambs.”

  “Hey stupid, your shotgun’s gonna scare ‘em more’n us. You outta yore mind? What you doin’ on this government property anyway?”

  “Government property hell! This is my homestead. You ain’t building any bomb site out here. You must be with those other Air Force guys. You’re the ones trespassing. So get the hell on out of here!”

  “I wasn’t in any mood to argue with him, and he had the drop on us, ha ha. So we came on back. Seems like the natives around here are kinda restless.”

  “You got that right. To get the cowboys and sheepherders off the range, the Air Force is going to have to come up with more sayso than I’ve got,” said Clint.

  “Seems to me,” Alcocke said, “Air Force ought to provide us with some weapons. Here we got two weirdos cramping our style all ready. There’s probably more than that around here. I’d like to have the odds evened up a little.”

  “Speaking of odds,” Kline said, “What are the chances of us getting some money, otherwise, how we gonna pay our hotel and meal bills?”

  “I’ve got that worked out with Mrs. Gilman. You need to sign a bill for everything you get. She’ll turn the chits in to me and I’ll pay her with a government requisitions slip. You guys shouldn’t have to pay for anything.”

  “Yeah, that’s great for Mrs. Gilman.” Kline said. “But supposing we want a brew, or a little nooky?”

  Clint now had everyone’s attention. “I’ll see if I can arrange something with Chet at the saloon, there’s only one in town. Paying for goodies at the Boar Pen is something else. Don’t think LC Jenner would appreciate the requisition slips he signed showing up for screwing. We’ll have to think of something else.”

  Kline said, “Sarge, what else is there to think about?”

  “Okay, okay. There’s a solution for every problem. I just haven’t come up with it yet.”

  Back at Gillman’s, Dorris said, “I took a message from some Lieutenant who said you could expect more men and material coming in here by truck and by air.”

  “Great. Things are beginning to look up. Thanks for looking out for me Dorris.”

  “I’m just glad to do it, Clint.” Her eyes were on his now. Neither could look away. “If there’s anything you need…I’ll be glad to help out.”

  “I do appreciate that, Dorris.” Clint’s evil thoughts started a bulge in his crotch. Walking back to the dinning room, Geez, If I’m getting that horny from a little talk, those younger troops are in a world of hurt.’ Surely there’s other young girls around here somewhere. When Lorena returned, he said “Lorena, You can’t be the only pretty girl around here. Aren’t there some girls out of high school living or working in this area?”

  “Well there’s a few girls working for the Army, secretaries and such, but there’s also a WAC detachment in the Ordnance Depot. Some of those girls probably are older.”

  “Oh yeah. I hadn’t thought of that. I need to get in touch with the Army anyway. Might be able to get some support from them.”

  Lorena “Humphed.” And as she flounced off said, “There’s pretty women your age right around here.”

  Clint wanted to say, I wasn’t going over there looking for a girl for me, but Lorena was out of ear shot in the kitchen. He thought to himself, if ther
e’s a woman around anywhere near, it seems like a man is under the microscope all the time. You can’t hide anything from them. Just hope I can keep all my bad habits in check and unobserved.

  After dinner, he walked on down to talk to Chet. After waving to his troops, who all sat around a table together, he ordered draft beer, and remained at the bar.

  “Say Chet. My crew over there is bound to run out of money shortly. I don’t know when we’ll get a payroll in here, and I’m wondering if we can set up some kind of credit system. If they can’t get a brew now and then, they’ll be one unhappy bunch.”

  “If they can’t pay, I’ll be the very unhappy one.”

  “If you keep a tab on each one, I could set up kind of a rationing system…based on a man’s pay, on how much you could put on his tab each month. To make it work, You’d have to cut them off when they reach their limit. If you’ll do that, I think I can persuade them they ought to pay up when they’re flush.”

  “Maybe I can keep a tab, but how do I know I’ll get paid when they do? A lot would depend on that last part, Sarge. You gonna pay if they can’t?”

  Clint played with his beer glass. “Yeah, if it takes that, I will.”

  “In that case, I’ll try it out. See how it works, Okay?”

  “Sounds good. I’ll give ‘em lecture on beer and…on fiscal responsibility.”

  When Clint next got to Lance alone, he said, “I want to go on a reconnaissance mission down to Ft. Peck…see what they’ve got that we can use. Besides a Post Exchange and commissary, they must have a communications center…Also Lorena tells me there’s a WAC unit at the ordnance depot. Wouldn’t hurt to check out their off-duty recreation time. Some of them might be as hard up as our young troops.”

  He called Sergeant Elsas to him. He explained what he and Werner were going to do the next day. “I want you and the others to try to determine some boundaries on that gunnery range. Take plenty of water and have Lorena make you some sandwiches to take along. You’ll be out there awhile on that rough terrain. Oh yeah, tell the troops I’m working out a plan so Chet’ll put them on a tab. That ought to brighten their day.”

  The next day at the gate to the Fort Peck Ordnance Depot, Clint asked the guard where he’d find the post adjutant. He was directed to a wood building behind the flag pole. He showed a copy of their orders to a sergeant who said “Air Force, huh? Didn’t know there were any air bases around here.”

  “Hardly. Just a would-be bomb scoring site.”

  “What do you want to see the adjutant about?”

  Clint explained their situation. When the sergeant returned he said, “the Adjutant is too tied up to see you now, however, he’s asked Lieutenant Prescott to see what we can do for you.”

  Lieutenant Lyle Prescott turned out to be a brown bar lieutenant. Clint was surprised but nudged Lance. Together they popped to and saluted the officer.

  Looking the airmen over, Prescott took his time returning their salute. “Sergeant Greybull, do I understand correctly that you are in charge of your group? That no officer commands it?”

  “That’s right, Lieutenant.” He handed him a copy of his orders. “We could use an officer, Sir. Perhaps if you volunteered we could swing a transfer.”

  Prescott shuddered. “I don’t think so, Sergeant. Just what do you want from the Army?”

  “Well, Sir. Access to your post so we can use your PX and commissary, enlisted club, if you have one. We don’t have much of anything with which to construct our bomb site, so we’d like to be able to scrounge from your surplus property, or disposal site. Such things as wood, boards, paint, even anything in the way of furniture that might have been discarded. Oh yes, back at Air Div they said I could draw on you for gasoline.”

  “Do you have authority to obtain government petroleum supplies?’

  “Yes Sir. I have plenty of requisition forms. Right now I don’t know how much gas we’ll need. I don’t know for sure how many vehicles we’re going to get. I believe Air Div will be contact with you about the gas too.”

  Prescott looked at Clint’s orders again, frowned, bit his lip and then curled it. “Sergeant, yours is the most ridiculous story I’ve ever heard. I just can’t believe your tale. These could be phony orders. You’ll have to remain here until I can determine this is not some sort of chicanery.” He turned to the Army Sergeant. “Have the military police send an escort to take these men to the guard house. They stay there until I order them released. Be sure their vehicle is impounded too. Hah!” he sneered at the two airmen.

  After he walked out, the Sergeant behind the desk, threw his hands out wide and rolled his eyes. “Ain’t you guys lucky. No officers. Particularly no Second Lieutenants. You got it made.” Then he called the Military Police.

  On the way to the guard house, Clint said to the buck sergeant escorting them, “Hey, what’s with this chickenshit Lieutenant?”

  “You mean our hero, Lute Prescott? He graduated last in his class at West Point. Seems to think he’s got to be super military to make up for it. He can be a real pain in the ass.”

  At the guard house, the desk sergeant, having been informed by the HQ Sergeant, told the airmen. “I don’t have any good reason to lock you up. Lute Prescott just said to have you escorted down here. Just wait in the day room until Lute Prescott gets over his snit.”

  By late afternoon, and still no word on release, Clint wondered if Lieutenant Prescott had a hard-on for the Air Force in general.

  “Hey, Sergeant Elsas, is this trip really necessary?”

  “Of course. You heard Sergeant Greybull. Any boundary markers that existed are gone. We’ve got to draw our own lines and circles in the sand.”

  “What a way to run an Air Force. I can’t believe we’ve just been dumped out here to construct a bomb site. Where the hell are the construction people? Civil engineers, civilian contractors or somebody else that should be doing this job? Not us poor peons.”

  “You’re a natural born pisser, Alcocke. When have you had it so good? A pleasant drive in the sunshine, out in the country. Fresh air. Do ya’ good.”

  “You don’t mention choking in all this dust, busting our ass every time this clunker hits a hole or hill.”

  “Can’t have everything. You could be doing this in Korea…with some nasties shooting at you all the while.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Speaking of nasties. These two guys riding up on horses are friendlies?”

  Just stopped at the six mile point out from the center of the north road, they watched the riders approach. “Don’t look like Chinese or Koreans…Russians maybe.”

  Fritz Deutsch and Basil Tree reined up to look at the airmen sitting in the weapons carrier. “You dudes lost out here in the wilderness?” Deutsch said.

  Elsas squinted up at him. “No, as a matter of fact, we’re just establishing some territory.” To Kline and Priebe in the back, “Okay, troops. Here’s were we plant that stake…on that little knoll.”

  As Priebe and Kline jumped out, Deutsch said, “Hey, hold on a minute, guys. What do you mean…you’re setting out your territory? You gonna piss on that stake like a damn catamount?”

  Elsas grinned at Deutsch. “Ain’t necessary. What’s it to ya’ cowboy?”

  “Damned if he ain’t a smart ass, Fritz.” Tree rode around to the other side of the carrier. “Want me to teach him a lesson in manners?”

  “Back off, Basil. What it’s to me, is you’re trespassing on my range land. I don’t cotton to you settin’ any boundaries on my property. Now you just draw that stake back up…and get the hell out of here!”

  “This is government land, cowboy. We’re gonna build a bomb range out here. If you got stock out here, you might want to move them somewhere else.”

  “I’ll be god-damned if you ain’t a sassy one. Basil pull up that stake!”

  Forci
ng the Airmen aside, Tree rode his horse up to the stake. He dropped his rope over it and galloped off to pull it out of the ground. When he stopped, he coiled his rope in, broke the stake over his knee and threw it down.

  “You guys are crazy! You don’t think you can stop the Air Force from building this site do ya?”

  “Yeah, well the whole damn Air Force is not here…and you guys git too.” Deutsch drew his pistol and aimed at the front tire. “Now you can get while ya’ still got wheels, or piss me off some more…and you’ll be walking back to town.”

  Alcocke, the shortest of the men out there, stood and piped up. “You’re some hero with your gun cowboy…Lucky we’re not armed or you wouldn’t strut so big!”

  Elsas told Alcocke, “Sit down and shut up. This ain’t our inning.”

  Deutsch laughed and cocked his pistol. When Elsas started the engine, Deutsch uncocked his weapon and reholstered it.

  The smoldering airmen were silent all the way back to the north road. As they turned south, Priebe said, “What we gonna do now, Sarge?”

  “Finish the job, naturally. By the time we get back to that stake point, those clowns should be long gone. Just because they had the upper hand back there, damned if they’re going to stop us.”

  Back in West Layover, Lorena helped her mother with the laundry. “Doesn’t Sergeant Greybull look sharp in his uniform?”

  “Yes he does…surprised me. I thought they didn’t have to wear uniforms while working on this job.”

  “Usually they don’t. I heard him talking to Lance. They were going over to the Ordnance Depot at Ft. Peck.”

  Dorris Gilman caught her breath. “Oh?…I wonder why?”

  “Sounded to me like they were going on a scrounging party.”

  “I suppose. They need everything you can think of.”

  Strain in Dorris’ voice, “Did you hear them say…who they would see over there?” While folding a sheet, silently she wondered if Captain Munson could be stationed there again. I hope they don’t run into him.