The Last Jump: A Novel of World War II

by John E. Nevola

  Rene Descartes (1596 – 1650)

  “I can’t tell you gentlemen how much I appreciate you telling me about my father,” J.P. said as the waitress cleared the dishes.

  “Our pleasure,” said Sky.

  “Hey kid, anything for a free meal,” joked Harley.

  “Seriously, I really do appreciate this very much,” J.P. repeated. “It must be difficult for you to relive some of these memories.”

  They all nodded somewhat sheepishly. J.P. continued. “So they started out in the Five-oh-five PIR. How did the Eighty-second Airborne play into this?”

  “The Oh-five was assigned to the Eighty-second,” answered Sky. “But if you ask anyone in the Oh-five, it was the other way around. The Eighty-second joined us.”

  “Proud outfit, huh?” J.P. asked.

  “Very,” replied Sky. “Gavin trained us to a razor’s edge. When we got back from leave the whole regiment moved to Camp Billy Mitchell on the Alabama side of the Chattahoochee River, known as the ‘Alabama Area’. We trained there for six or seven months. Hard training. We learned hand-to-hand combat. Plenty of night jumps. Thirty-mile speed marches. If you dropped out, Gavin would have you transferred to another regiment by the next morning. Only the best of the best was good enough for him.

  “Sounds like Gavin was running his own little army,” J.P. quipped.

  “He probably was,” Sky answered. “But it was the best damn little army in the world.” Sky sipped his drink. “He was the smartest SOB in the army when it came to anything airborne. He wrote the freakin’ manual.” Sky pondered the memory for a moment. “He was a damn good leader, an excellent fighter and an outstanding teacher. We were lucky to have him. Well anyway, your dad, Jake, Danny Boy and me became tight. We’d go into town on weekends. Cotton’s Fish Camp in Phenix City was a real popular place. And there would be a brawl almost every weekend. Sometimes we fought the Five-oh-four or Second Armored guys but mostly we teamed up with the other army outfits and had it out with local civilians and police.”

  Cynthia slipped a cigarette from her pack. “Does anyone mind?” No one objected so she lit it. “You actually fought with the police?” she asked incredulously.

  Sky shrugged his shoulders and nodded. “That’s the way it was back then.” He looked at J.P. “They were always looking to corner a few GIs and gang up on them. But the four of us always watched each other’s backs. Gavin had a hell of a time keeping us out of jail.” Sky chuckled. “But when you have that many tough hombres in one unit, each one trying to show the other how bad he is, all that fighting was inevitable.”

  “And that made Jake and my father even closer?” J.P. asked.

  “It made us all closer.” Sky took another sip of his drink and looked over his shoulder for the waitress.

  Frank jumped into the lull in the conversation. “In August of forty-two, the War Department decided to form its airborne forces into division-sized elements, after the British and German models. So the General Staff named the Eighty-second Division as the first airborne division. At the same time, that division’s cadre was split in two to form the other new airborne division, the Hundred and first. Problem was they had no paratroopers. The airborne regiments being formed were eventually assigned to one of those two divisions. I was with the Five-oh-six PIR and we went to the Hundred and first in June of forty-three.”

  J.P. was impressed by Frank’s knowledge and recall. Still, something didn’t feel quite right about what they were telling him. Or was it their body language? He couldn’t put his finger on it but his reporter’s instincts told him something was amiss. He still wasn’t sure how Harley fit and decided to take a shot.

  “What about you, Harley?” J.P. asked.

  Harley studied his face for a moment and answered. “Like I said, I’m Jake’s cousin. The Twenty-ninth shipped out to England in September on the Queen Mary. So while Jake and Johnny were stomping about the Alabama woods, my division was already in foggy old England. Later, I met your father there.” Harley hesitated for a moment. “But Jake wrote regularly and talked about your father a lot. I may have some old letters and pictures somewhere back home. If I can find them, would you be interested?”

  “Yes. That would be great,” J.P. answered.

  Cynthia stood up and placed her napkin on the table. “Excuse me, gentlemen, while I powder my nose.” She walked toward the ladies room without wobbling.

  That gave J.P. an idea. He reached across the table and picked up the recorder and made a show of turning it off. “I actually have to take a leak, too.” He reached down into his lap with the recorder in his hand. He deftly switched it on and covered it with his napkin. As he rose, he casually dropped the napkin on the table with the recorder tucked into the folds.

  After J.P. was out of earshot, Harley asked the other two, “Do you think he knows?”

  Frank answered first, “He’s pretty smart. If he doesn’t know for sure I’m convinced he’s at least suspicious.”

  Harley looked at Sky, “He hasn’t said anything or asked any questions that would lead me to believe that he’s suspicious. What do you think, Sky?”

  “He may be playing it cool but I don’t think he knows. Actually, I don’t think he has a clue. He may find out if he keeps going down this road but right now I think he is absolutely clueless.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Frank warned.

  “Well, in any case, we took an oath of silence,” Harley reminded them.

  “I know, but maybe we should reconsider since his mother is gone,” Frank suggested. “If it were me, I would want to know.”

  Harley looked at Frank harshly. “It’s not up to us to decide to change the rules. We just can’t ignore the promise we made. You’re not seriously considering telling him, are you?”

  “Of course not,” Frank answered. “I was just thinking out loud. I’ll keep my word.”

  Harley looked at Sky. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll keep my word, too,” Sky answered the un-asked question. “Funny thing is, the answer is right under his nose. But he’ll probably find out anyway when he talks to Lincoln.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Harley replied. “I don’t think Lincoln will tell him anything either, but we can’t worry about that now. I’ll talk to Lincoln again before J.P. gets in touch with him. But we three are still solid, right?” Both Sky and Frank nodded. “Good, then just keep telling him what we truthfully remember right up until it happens and then let me finish the story. After all, I am Jake’s cousin.”

  They sat in silence for a few minutes when the waitress came to their table. “Gentlemen, your dinners will be out momentarily.” She scanned the table quickly for empty glasses and noticed the unfolded napkins. She picked up Cynthia’s napkin, refolded it and placed it neatly on the table. Then she walked to the far side of the table to refold the other loose napkin.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Newport News, Virginia – January 21, 1943

  “In war, there is no substitute for victory.”

  General of the Army Douglas MacArthur (1880 - 1964), Address to Congress, April 1951

  It was a cold January day in Virginia and the multitude that gathered to view the ceremony pressed politely against each other to share their body heat and block the biting sea breeze.

  Macie Vance stood with Nora and Derek. She had a good vantage point but still had to stand on her toes to get an unobstructed view of the platform erected near the stern of the floating city towering before them.

  Today was the day the USS Yorktown (CV-10) would be christened and it was a particularly festive occasion for the thousands who built her. Macie was anxious to see the ship’s sponsor, the person who would christen her.

  Derek was right again, she thought. Back in September, this ship was originally to be named the Bon Homme Richard. But after the USS Yorktown (CV-5) was sunk at Midway in June, the Navy Department decided the ship under construction would be named the Yorktown. The huge ship’s crew would be larger than the population
of Bedford.

  After two weeks in welding school, Macie was assigned to a sub-assembly building welding components. She did this for two months and watched as other young women were trained and brought online into the shipyard’s workforce. Macie attained seniority quickly and was promoted to welding plates and bulkheads on the ship. She often felt like a worker bee in a busy hive as she, along with thousands of other workers and welders, showed up each day to add to this rapidly growing ship.

  Derek treated her differently since Jake had come to Newport News back in the summer but there was no doubt in her mind that he still liked her. As a supervisor higher up on the management chain, he looked out for her and made sure she was treated fairly. Macie was still confused by her interest in Derek. Like a moth near a flame, she was attracted to the light but dared not get too close.

  Her personal growth in 1942 mirrored that of the country. She bought an old but functional tabletop Philco radio at a flea market and listened to every Presidential “fireside chat” she could. She read the newspaper daily and was coming to grips with understanding the complex war news.

  As 1942 came to a close, a year of transition for the United States, the American people were clearly more at ease than when the year began. For the most part, great victories still eluded the Allies but massive defeats no longer plagued them. The unstoppable war machines of Germany and Japan had finally been slowed. During the course of the year there were many turning points upon which the American people could take encouragement.

  Japan’s thrust to outflank Australia was blunted in the Battle of the Coral Sea in May. In August the Americans took the initiative in the South Pacific by invading and occupying the islands of Guadalcanal and Tulagi at the southernmost tip of the Solomon Islands chain. The raid on Makin Island a few weeks later by a small group of Marine Raiders along with the United States Army’s initiative in New Guinea, signaled that it would be the Americans who would dictate the time and place of every new battle in the Pacific.

  The destruction of most of the Japanese Imperial Carrier Fleet at Midway in June demonstrated that U.S. aircraft carriers could hand the Japanese serious naval defeats. That Japan seized Attu and Kiska in the Aleutian chain, the first invasion of American soil in 128 years, did not panic anyone as it might have earlier in 1942. The Americans had even bombed Tokyo and other Japanese cities in April in the famous Doolittle Raid. The earlier setbacks in the Pacific, notably Pearl Harbor and the Philippines, had all but been eclipsed by the rising tide of better news. The American people began to sleep less anxiously.

  Macie knew that all the news was not good. Precious American aircraft carriers had been lost in the Pacific staving off Japanese efforts to retake Guadalcanal. Along with the previously lost Lexington (CV-2) and Yorktown (CV-5), the Wasp (CV-7) and Hornet (CV-8) were sunk supporting the Marines defending Guadalcanal. The Enterprise (CV-6) had also been damaged and the Saratoga (CV-3) crippled. This news gave additional urgency and energy to Macie’s work at the shipyard.

  In the Atlantic, the U-Boat attacks that had been an almost daily occurrence in early 1942, a period that German submarine commanders called the “Happy Time”, were on the decline. The Americans had instituted a better convoy and escort system and more effective air patrols rendering the coastal waters of the eastern seaboard extremely dangerous for German submarines. American merchant ships were no longer easy pickings. In July, Admiral Doenitz ordered all of his U-Boats back from their patrol zones near the American coast. The U-Boat menace had not been totally defeated but a small tactical victory had been achieved. Allied merchantmen could now navigate in and out of American ports in relative safety.

  On the Russian front, the awesome power of the colossal German land and air forces were stopped in December. The German Wehrmacht and its partners, who once numbered over 166 combat divisions and over 4,300,000 men, had been whittled down by the brutal Russian winter of 1941-1942. The fierce counterattacks by suicidal yet effective Soviet forces finally dealt Hitler’s supermen a severe defeat at Stalingrad. The German army was still dangerous but no longer able to mount large-scale offensive operations against the Soviet Union or anyone else.

  Macie witnessed first hand the conversion of the American economy from peaceful to wartime production. Tanks and planes were coming off the assembly lines where automobiles had previously been built. Ships of all shapes and sizes were sliding off of the ways of newly constructed shipyards all over the country. Rifles and ammunition were being manufactured instead of refrigerators. Uniforms and equipment came out of the sewing shops instead of gowns and suits. Combat boots were being made in shoemaker shops instead of shoes. Meatless Tuesdays and ration books helped fill the small tin cans in the C-ration and K-ration kits carried by GIs. Small businesses all over the nation became subcontractors to the huge companies that were fashioning the implements of war in grander numbers than could have ever been imagined. Every facet of the American economy and production capacity was coming on line. They included small machine shops, manufacturing companies, coalmines, oil wells, transportation and mom and pop businesses of all shapes and sizes. Mothers, young and old, took in sewing and knitting and fabricated the sweaters, scarves and ski hats for the military and the sailors of the Merchant Marine. The American industrial war machine reached down into every nook and cranny of everyday life and tapped into the unrelenting ability and ingenuity of the American people who were coming together like orphans who finally found their parents.

  Most Americans realized by the end of that worrisome year it was merely the momentum of the War that had shifted in their favor. They were too frightened in early 1942 to become complacent too easily. There was much more to do and the price was already high. Thirty-five thousand husbands, sons and fathers would never come home again. Americans would be called upon to make many more sacrifices in the coming years. A great many more gold stars would be hung in a great many more windows across the vast landscape of America before victory. President Franklin D. Roosevelt had proclaimed the Allies would accept nothing less than unconditional surrender from the Axis Powers. There would be no peace negotiations or political settlements. The enemy could either submit or be destroyed. No one had any illusions about how difficult it would be to bring the Axis Powers to their knees. The end was still a long way off down a violent and bloody road.

  Macie eyed the massive aircraft carrier rising up before her. It was the fourth Essex-class aircraft carrier to be launched after the Essex (CV-9), Lexington (CV-16) and Bunker Hill (CV-17). Her cheeks were red from the stinging wind and her eyes were tearing from the cold. She leaned closer to Nora Lee to block the wind.

  Nora had also moved up the career ladder in the shipyard. She finally got her promotion to Mechanics Helper in the Joiners Department as a Drill Press Operator. She had become somewhat interested in Jonah Cash and then furious when he joined the Marines. She didn’t understand the stigma that young American men felt when they weren’t in uniform. Jonah had to do his part and so he tore up his 2-B draft status slip, quit his draft-exempt job at the shipyard and joined up.

  Nora finally heard from the War Department. The first telegram came in July, three months after the fall of Bataan. It said only that Corporal Gilbert “Butch” Blair was missing in action. Then Nora received a telegram just before Christmas that stated, based on a reliable report from the Swedish Red Cross, Corporal Blair was a prisoner of war, whereabouts unknown.

  She was fully aware of the terrible stories of torture perpetrated by the Japanese during the Bataan Death March. She had almost accepted his death and was beginning to move on. But now, with this latest news, she had two men to worry about and not at all sure either one of them would ever come home again. The possibility of someday having to make a choice between them troubled her. It was all too much for her to deal with. She decided she would write both of them and free them from any obligation they may have felt to her. If either or both of them survived and decided to come home to her, she would deal with that si
tuation then. In the meantime, she had to unburden herself from the emotional strangulation of being a “widow-in-waiting”.

  As Nora trolled the shipyard and USO Clubs for replacement companions, Macie warned her that she was one step away from becoming a “Victory Girl”. V-Girls were known to be promiscuous with servicemen, particularly before overseas deployment. But Nora had reached a point where she simply did not care what people thought. She would never be alone again and would never again endure the broken heart she felt when she was advised that Butch was missing in action in the Philippines. Nora Lee would avoid romantic entanglements. She would seek out the comfort and companionship that only a man could give. And she would do it one man at a time.

  In spite of Nora’s moral failings, Macie loved her like a sister. She would never judge her and would be her best friend through thick and thin.

  The ceremony was about to begin as the dignitaries climbed the steps to the platform. Macie finally saw who she was looking for. First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt was the sponsor for the Yorktown and would christen her. The assembled shipyard workers erupted in a hearty cheer as Mrs. Roosevelt slowly ascended the steps up to the platform.

  The President’s wife was known as the people’s first lady. Wherever there was a just cause that needed a conspicuous leader, she was there. She was tireless in her support of women in the workforce and in the military. She was a major catalyst in getting women pilots engaged in the war effort by ferrying planes from factories to air bases. Black America respected her for her outgoing stand on the inclusion of Negroes into the armed forces in combat roles. Poor people everywhere believed she was the back channel to the President for the social programs of the thirties that helped sustain lower class Americans with public service jobs such as the Civilian Conservation Corps. While she was a lightning rod for criticism of her social positions, she was immensely popular with the working class people of the country, especially women.