“Actually, ten,” Lieutenant Pickering interjected, and added: “I have just had a divine revelation: The lady’s referring to Big Steve.”
“Which one are you?” Commander Kocharski asked, turning to him.
“Pickering is my name,” Pick said.
“Dick Stecker’s buddy,” Commander Kocharski immediately identified him. “He’s much better. Or have you seen him?”
“That’s our next stop,” Galloway said.
“He’s in Nine Dog,” Commander Kocharski said. “I better go with you, to make sure they let you see him.”
“I gather you and Big Steve are good friends?” Pickering asked.
“Friends, hell. We’re married,” Commander Kocharski said. “We had our time in, we were going to retire, so we got married, and then this goddamned war came along.”
“Lieutenant,” Galloway said to the other nurse, deadly serious, “if what the Commander just said gets any further than these four walls, there are three officers here who will swear nothing like that was ever said.”
“She’s told me,” the nurse said. “And I didn’t hear what she said, anyway.”
“Thank you,” Galloway said.
“Big Steve never told me he was married,” Pickering said.
“I’ll tell you about it later,” Galloway said.
“Charley, I can get off; can we go somewhere for a drink? Jesus, there’s no place private, unless I sneak you into the nurses’ quarters…”
“By an odd coincidence, I know a place where we could have a drink in private,” Pick said. “But we’d need wheels to get there.”
“I think the two of you have had all the sauce you can handle,” Commander Kocharski said, and then asked suspiciously, “What kind of a place?”
“My father’s got a house here,” Pickering said. “I can use it.”
“We have wheels,” Flo said. “Your car, Charley. I’ve been driving it.”
“Then the problem is solved,” Pickering said.
“You can sit on my lap,” Dunn said to the nurse.
“Of all the nerve! What makes you think I’d go anywhere with you?”
“I wish you would come with us, Carol,” Flo said.
“Well, all right,” Carol said.
“She didn’t take a hell of a lot of convincing, did she?” Pick asked.
“Steve said you had a big mouth, young man,” Commander Kocharski said. “If you’re smart, you’ll keep it shut around me and my friends.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Lieutenant Pickering said very politely.
[TWO]
Muku Muku
1555 Hours 20 October 1942
“Dawkins,” Lieutenant Colonel Clyde W. Dawkins answered the telephone at Ewa. Galloway thought he sounded very tired.
“Galloway, Sir. We just got in. Dunn, Pickering, and me.”
“Welcome to the Pearl of the Pacific, Charley. What they’re going to do is run you through the hospital, primarily to check for malaria….”
“Sir, we’ve already been through that.”
“OK. I’ll send a car for you. It’ll take thirty minutes. Wait just inside the main entrance to the hospital….”
“Sir, that won’t be necessary.”
“What does that mean?”
“Sir, I decided that the officers of VMF-229 needed a seventy-two-hour liberty, and I granted them one.”
There was a long pause before Dawkins asked, “I gather you’re not at Pearl Harbor, Charley?”
“No, Sir.”
“Where are you?”
“It’s a place called Muku Muku, Sir.”
“What the hell is that, Galloway? A brothel?”
Galloway glanced around the flagstone patio overlooking the crashing surf. Commander Kocharski and Lieutenant Pickering were sitting each to one side of a table entirely occupied by a large silver platter of hors d’oeuvres. A white-jacketed, silver-haired black man stood off nearby. Lieutenant Carol Ursery, Nurse Corps, USN, and First Lieutenant William C. Dunn, USMCR, were dancing (so slowly that Galloway found it pleasantly erotic) to phonograph music.
“No, Sir, it is not,” Galloway said.
“Goddamn it, Galloway, I’m tired. Don’t play with me.”
“It’s a private home, Sir. On the coast. It belongs to Pickering’s family.”
“Charley, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to come out here, and now.”
“Sir, with respect, won’t it wait until the morning? It’s 1600…”
There was another long pause.
“Where is this place, Charley? How do I get there?”
“You want to come here, Sir?”
“Either way, Galloway,” Dawkins said. “I come there, or the three of you come out here.”
“Hold one, Sir,” Charley said, and covered the microphone with his hand. “Pickering, get on the horn and tell the Skipper how to get here from Ewa.”
“Welcome to Muku Muku, Colonel,” the silver-haired black man said as he opened the door of Dawkins’s 1941 Plymouth staff car. “I’m Dennis, the chief steward. Mr. Pickering and his guests are on the patio. If you’ll come with me, please?”
“What the hell is this place?” Dawkins asked as he looked around.
“Officially, Colonel, it is the Pacific & Far East Shipping Corporation’s Guest House for Visiting Masters & Chief Engineers,” Denny said. “But everybody calls it Muku Muku.”
Dawkins followed Denny through the elegantly furnished house to the patio. A very large Polish woman in a gloriously flowered muumuu saw him first and stood up. When she rose, so did Lieutenant Pickering. Lieutenant Dunn and a nurse a good six inches taller than he was were dancing to Glenn Miller records on a phonograph. They stopped dancing when they saw him, but they did not, Dawkins noticed, let go of each other’s hands.
“Good evening, Sir,” Pickering said. “Welcome to Muku Muku. Can Denny get you something to drink?”
“Where is Captain Galloway?” Dawkins said.
“He just went inside for a moment,” Pickering said. “Excuse me, Sir. May I present Commander Kocharski and Lieutenant Ursery?”
Why am I not surprised? What did I think Commander Kocharski would look like? Lana Turner?
“Commander,” Dawkins said, taking her hand; it was larger than his, he noticed. “I have the odd feeling that you would be interested to hear that I have just learned that the Commandant of The Marine Corps has just approved the promotion of Technical Sergeant Oblensky to master gunner.”
Master gunners, who rank between noncommissioned and commissioned officers, are the Marine Corps equivalent of Warrant Officers in the Army. They are entitled to be saluted by enlisted men, and are afforded other commissioned officers’ privileges.
“Oh, that’s wonderful news!” Flo said.
“You’ve heard, I guess, he’s on his way here?”
“Galloway told me, Colonel,” Flo said.
“Apropos of nothing whatever,” Dawkins said, “I have been informed that there is no bar to marriage between master gunners and officers of the Naval service.”
“Is that so?” Flo said. “Isn’t that fascinating?”
“Good evening, Sir,” Galloway said, coming onto the patio.
“Captain,” Dawkins said.
“Steve’s got his master gunner, Charley,” Flo said. “The Colonel just told me.”
“Thank you, Skipper,” Galloway said.
“Thank General Vandegrift,” Dawkins said. “He wrote the Commandant.”
“I repeat, Sir,” Galloway said. “Thank you, Skipper.”
“Well, that’s the good news,” Dawkins said, and reached in his pocket and handed Galloway a folded radio message. “This is the bad.”
* * *
PRIORITY
HEADQUARTERS USMC
WASHINGTON DC 0905 18OCT42
TO: COMMANDING OFFICER MAG-2
VIA CINCPAC
1. FOLLOWING OFFICERS VMF-229 ARE DETACHED FOR A PERIOD OF NINETY (90) DAYS AND PLACED ON TEMPO
RARY DUTY WITH USMC PUBLIC AFFAIRS DETACHMENT, US POST OFFICE BUILDING, LOS ANGELES, CAL., FOR THE PURPOSE OF PARTICIPATING IN WAR BOND TOUR NUMBER TWO.
GALLOWAY, CHARLES M CAPT USMCR
DUNN, WILLIAM C 1/LT USMCR
PICKERING, MALCOLM S 1/LT USMCR
2. SUBJECT OFFICERS WILL PROCEED IMMEDIATELY BY MILITARY OR CIVILIAN AIR TRANSPORTATION (PRIORITY AAA-2) FROM PRESENT STATION TO LOS ANGELES, CAL., REPORTING UPON ARRIVAL THEREAT TO OFFICER-IN-CHARGE USMC PUBLIC AFFAIRS DETACHMENT. IF TIME SCHEDULE OF WAR BOND TOUR NUMBER TWO (2) PERMITS, A TEN (10) DAY ADMINISTRATIVE DELAY EN ROUTE LEAVE IS AUTHORIZED.
3. DIRECTOR, PUBLIC AFFAIRS, HQ USMC AND OFFICER-IN-CHARGE USMC PUBLIC AFFAIRS DETACHMENT LOS ANGELES, CAL., WILL BE INFORMED BY PRIORITY RADIO OF DATE, TIME, AND MEANS OF DEPARTURE OF SUBJECT OFFICERS IN COMPLIANCE WITH THESE ORDERS.
BY DIRECTION:
J. J. STEWART, BRIG GEN, USMC
* * *
“Jesus!” Galloway said, disgustedly. “How do we get out of this, Skipper? Or at least how do I?”
“I spoke with General McInerny,” Dawkins said. “He thinks he may be able to get you out of it. I told him I need you to refit the squadron. These two heroes are stuck.”
“Stuck with what?” Pickering asked. Galloway handed him the radio message.
“No! Jesus H. Christ!” Pickering said when he had read the message. He handed it to Dunn.
“You’re on the Pan American clipper departing at 0700, Mr. Pickering,” Dawkins said.
“Can I take my ten days’ leave here?” Dunn asked. Dawkins looked at him. “I’m in love,” Dunn explained.
“Will you stop that?” Lieutenant Ursery said.
“Love will have to wait,” Dawkins said, smiling. “Duty calls, Mr. Dunn. You will be on that PAA clipper.”
“I don’t know why he talks like that, Colonel,” Lieutenant Ursery said. “He’s crazy.”
“Yes, I know,” Dawkins said. “If the offer is still good, I think I would like a drink.”
“Denny,” Pickering said, “would you get the Colonel a nice glass of cyanide, please?”
“We’ve got just about everything, Colonel, pay no attention to Mr. Pick,” Denny said. “What can I fix you?”
“Bourbon?”
“Finest Kentucky sour mash coming up.”
“Skipper,” Galloway pursued. “There’s no way I can get out of this?”
“I told you, Charley, General McInerney thinks he can get you out of the war bond tour, but you’re going to have to go to the States tomorrow.”
“I know General McInerney,” Pick said. “Maybe if I asked him…”
“Try saying ‘aye, aye, Sir,’ just once, Mr. Pickering,” Dawkins said.
“If you know him, Pick,” Bill Dunn said, “ask him if he can fix it so I can spend my ten days’ leave with Whatsername here.”
“‘Whatsername’?” Carol Ursery exploded.
“Tell him I’m in love,” Dunn said, unabashed.
“Can you call the States from here?” Galloway asked.
“There’s a hell of a wait for personal calls, Charley,” Dawkins replied. “It took me four hours to get through to my wife.”
“Who do you want to call, Skipper?” Pickering asked, and then, smugly, “Ah! Ward’s aunt!”
“Watch your mouth, Pickering!”
“Do you wish to be nasty to me, Sir, or do you want to talk to the sainted Aunt Carolyn?”
For a moment, Colonel Dawkins was convinced that Galloway was going to really rip into Pickering. But what Galloway said was, “Don’t tell me you can get a call through?”
“You got a number, Skipper?” Pickering asked. “I’ll just bet that P and FE has a priority. If I can get through to the switchboard in San Francisco, they can put you through to anywhere in the States.”
Galloway dug out his wallet.
“Pickering,” Colonel Dawkins asked, “what’s your connection with Pacific & Far East Shipping?”
Pickering looked at him.
“Sir, my father owns it,” he said simply. “But I would appreciate it if that didn’t get around.”
[THREE]
Jenkintown, Pennsylvania
2345 Hours 20 October 1942
Mrs. Carolyn Ward McNamara was thirty-two, blond, longhaired, long-legged, and at the moment fiercely annoyed. It had taken a long time to get to sleep, and when the telephone at her bedside table rang, she did not welcome the intrusion.
It was probably a wrong number. Or worse, some goddamned man who’d decided it was his duty to comfort the grass widow in her loneliness.
Some goddamned man who’d needed liquid courage to find the nerve and had drunk enough so that he either didn’t know what time it was, or didn’t care.
She sat up in bed, turned on the bedside lamp, grabbed the telephone, and snarled into it, “Who is this, for God’s sake?”
“Mrs. Carolyn W. McNamara, please,” a female voice asked. It was an operator.
“Who is this?” Carolyn snapped.
“Are you Mrs. McNamara?” the operator persisted.
“Yes, who the hell is this?”
“Go ahead, Honolulu, we have Mrs. McNamara on the line.”
“One moment, San Francisco,” another female voice said.
San Francisco? Honolulu? What the hell is this? It has to be about Charley! Oh, God!
“Muku Muku,” a male voice said.
What did he say?
“We’re ready with Mrs. McNamara on the mainland.”
“One moment, please.”
“Galloway.”
“We’re ready with your party, Captain Galloway. Go ahead, please.”
“Oh, God, Charley!”
“Carolyn?”
“Yes, yes, yes. Charley, where are you? Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. How are you?”
“Where are you?”
“Hawaii.”
“Thank God! I’ve been so worried. Charley, you’re not hurt?”
“No. I’m fine.”
“The newspapers have been full…”
“I’m fine.”
Damn him, he would tell me he’s fine if he had just lost both his legs.
“What are you doing in Hawaii?” Carolyn asked suspiciously.
“Chasing bare-breasted girls in grass skirts, what else?”
“Charley, damn you!”
“Look, the reason I called, I’m going to have a couple of days, maybe a couple of weeks, in the States. I wondered if I could come to see you….”
“You wondered if you could come to see me?”
“Well, you know. I thought about your family.”
“When are you going to be in the States?”
“We’re catching a plane to San Francisco in the morning. We ought to be in there tomorrow night sometime.”
“What are you going to do in San Francisco?”
“You’re not going to believe this, but they’re sending me on a war bond tour.”
“Why shouldn’t I believe it? Jimmy Ward’s been on one.”
“Yeah, I forgot. Where is he?”
Jimmy Ward was First Lieutenant James G. Ward, USMCR, Carolyn Ward McNamara’s nephew. Jimmy Ward had brought then Technical Sergeant Galloway to his parents’ home, where Aunt Carolyn had first met Sergeant Galloway. Jimmy Ward was thus responsible for substantially changing her life.
Who the hell cares where Jimmy is? Carolyn thought furiously.
“Right now he’s in Washington,” she said. “Tell me about the war bond tour. Where are you going to be?”
“I don’t know. We’re supposed to get a ten-day leave before it starts, and I thought maybe I could come to see you.”
There you go again! You thought maybe you could come to see me? Goddamn you, Charley!
“Tell me something, Charley,” Carolyn said. “Do you love me? Or are you just lining up the standard Marine Corps girl in every port?”
“You don’t have to ask that!”
“Yes, I
do, damn you, Charley!”
“What are you mad about?”
“Can you say those three words or not?”
“Sure I can say them. But there are people here, Carolyn.”
“I don’t care who’s there!”
“Yeah, sure, Carolyn.”
“Wrong three words.”
“Jesus Christ! All right.” Captain Galloway’s voice dropped ten decibels. “I love you.”
It was very faint, but it was enough.
“I love you, too, Charley.”
“Yeah.”
“You’re going to San Francisco? And then you’ll be on leave?”
“Right.”
“Charley, when you get to San Francisco, you go to the hotel.”
“What hotel?”
“How many hotels have we been in together in San Francisco?”
“We probably couldn’t get a room in there, Carolyn,” he said first, and then understood what she was saying. “You want to come all the way out here?”
“Get a room for us, Charley,” she said. “I’ll meet you there.”
“And if I can’t?”
“Then sit in the damned lobby and wait for me.”
“How long will it take you to get there?”
“I don’t know. Two or three days. I’m leaving right now.”
“What time is it where you are?”
“Almost midnight.”
“It’s ten to five in the afternoon here. You mean you’ll leave in the morning?”
“No. I mean I’m going to get up and get dressed and leave right now. That’s what you do when you love somebody.”
“Carolyn, you don’t have to do that.”
“Just get us a room, my darling,” Carolyn said.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“Get us a room, Charley. Wait for me,” Carolyn said, and hung up.
[FOUR]
Muku Muku
2235 Hours 20 October 1942
Lieutenant Carol Ursery, Nurse Corps, USNR, fresh from a shower, walked over to a full-length mirror and looked at herself. She was wearing a set of men’s pajamas and a terry bathrobe with a P & FE insignia embroidered on the breast, and a puffy towel was turbaned about her head. But she didn’t pay much attention to any of that…because what she saw in that big mirror was one very confused human being. Too much was going on around her this evening. And inside her…especially inside her. She was all in a swirl.
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