CV-32 was the only Essex-class aircraft carrier hull still under construction in the Newport News Shipyard. At its peak in late 1943, the yard had five of the magnificent aircraft carriers under the welders’ torches at the same time. They all had been completed, launched and commissioned. Only the USS Boxer (CV-21), which had been launched on 14 December and was out for sea trials, had not yet been commissioned. That would take a few more months. Macie and her crew came over from working on the Boxer to the Crown Point.
As the orders for carriers dried up, workers were furloughed. The frenetic pace of construction in 1942 and 1943 had slowed to a more methodical tempo. It was clear America would eventually win the War. There was no longer a desperate need to build any more of these majestic behemoths.
The change in attitude came about slowly but steadily as the year 1944 unfolded. If 1942 was a year of survival and 1943 a year of stabilization, then 1944 was the turning point toward victory. The initiative was completely in Allied hands and the Axis Powers were forced into a reactive and defensive mode. Not that the battles were easy. But each fatality marked the road to the ultimate triumph and pointed to the end of this grueling War.
Macie kept up on world affairs but the change from struggle to imminent victory was so subtle she nearly missed it. The year began with small, hopeful signs the Allies were gaining control. On the Eastern Front, the Russians were continuing their push westward. They broke the siege of Leningrad in the north in January and recaptured the port of Sevastopol in the south in April. In the center, Russian armored forces pushed back Germany’s Army Group Center and recaptured the Ukraine. The Germans were hard pressed everywhere to defend a 1,400-mile front. By the end of 1944, the Russian armies were sitting on the Vistula River across from Poland. They were re-supplying and consolidating forces for the final push to Berlin.
In Italy, the Allies were busy as well. The amphibious landings at Anzio in January signaled the Allied effort to break the stalemate. The Germans resisted stubbornly across the mountainous boot but the Allies eventually pushed them back and captured Rome in June.
The invasion of Normandy on 6 June 1944 was a momentous event that augured the return of the Allies to confront the Germans on French soil. Breaching the Atlantic Wall was arduous but with the breakout in July and the liberation of Paris in August, the Allies had the Germans in retreat and on the run. The surprise Nazi counteroffensive in December, which resulted in the Battle of the Bulge, was a huge setback for the Allies. But they recovered rather quickly. By the end of 1944, they too were approaching a river barrier, the Rhine, preparing for the final assault on the Third Reich.
In the Central Pacific, United States Marines recaptured most of the Marshall Islands in February against fanatical resistance. The next targets were the islands of Tinian and Saipan in the Marianas. The Americans attacked the islands in June, triggering one of the most one-sided battles in history. The Battle of the Philippine Sea, otherwise known as the Great Marianas Turkey Shoot, pitted what was left of the Imperial Japanese Navy’s carrier fleet against the American Fast Carrier Task Groups. There had not been a major carrier battle of this scope for two years in the Pacific. Since the Battle of Midway, both sides were husbanding their resources and gathering strength. But the Japanese were not about to let this incursion by the Americans go unchallenged.
The Imperial Japanese Navy brought all of their might to bear on the Americans; five heavy and four light aircraft carriers plus land based planes from nearby islands. Their forces also included five battleships. The Japanese force had a strength of 673 planes, 473 carrier based and the rest land-based. The Americans brought fifteen fast carriers into the battle with new F6F Hellcat fighters on their decks. The Battle of the Philippine Sea was virtually all air combat. When it was over, more than 600 Japanese planes were downed. In addition, three of their aircraft carriers were sunk or damaged. The Americans lost twenty-three planes in air combat and another hundred ditching in the dark sea when they ran out of fuel returning from attacking the Imperial Japanese carriers.
It was a source of great pride to Macie and her co-workers at Newport News Shipyard that the Japanese fleet was decimated with weapons forged and built with their own hands.
In October, the Americans invaded the Japanese-held Philippines and began the methodical process of evicting them from the islands. MacArthur had vowed to return two years prior when he was ordered to leave his troops and withdraw to Australia.
As the Americans closed the ring around Japan, their warships hunted Japanese shipping relentlessly. American submarines and aircraft carriers now roamed the seas with impunity. They regularly interdicted traffic between the Japanese Home Islands and their recently captured possessions. The Americans had Japan in a chokehold and continued to rack up big scores of shipping tonnage through all of 1944.
As the year came to a close, the news from all fronts was extremely encouraging. However, finishing the War would not be easy. The final conquests of Germany and especially Japan would be hard-fought and costly. The question was whether victory was near at hand or would the obstinate Japanese hold out for years?
Nora Lee brushed her recently cut short blond hair back under her baseball cap. She pulled the cap tight to her head against the breeze. “What are your plans after the War, Sweetie?”
Macie pulled her knees up to her chest and finished chewing. “I really haven’t thought about it, Nora. I probably should with so many yard workers being let go.”
“Well, I don’t think they’re going to let us do this.” She waved her hand across the deck. “I certainly won’t be able to find a job as a drill press operator. It’s all over for us.”
“Us?”
“Women, Macie. When this War is over they’ll be shoving us back to be housewives.”
Macie considered that for a moment. “The guys coming home are going to need the jobs, Nora. And I was thinking about raising a family anyway.”
“With Derek?”
Macie looked directly at Nora and didn’t answer.
“Buyer’s remorse?” Nora pressed. Still, Macie wouldn’t answer. She had been conflicted ever since she wrote Jake the Dear John letter. It was an issue she was still sorting out and she knew where Nora stood on the matter. Nora had lived the pain of losing men to the insatiable grinding gears of the War and wanted to spare Macie the same fate. Nora loved her as a sister and withheld judgment, just as Macie had with Nora’s occasional impulsive, salacious behavior.
“Anyway, Sweetie, we shouldn’t be forced out of our jobs now and we should be allowed to do what we want after the War. We should have choices. We earned the right to make the choice of family or career. It’s not fair that we get pushed around.”
“Nobody is pushing us around Nora. We still have jobs.”
“Thanks to Derek, probably. Who do you think is being let go?” Macie didn’t answer. “Mostly dames and the niggers! The big shots are already putting us back in our place!”
“I wish you wouldn’t call them that.”
“What? Dames or big shots?” Nora chortled at her own little joke.
“You know what I mean. Besides, Nora, do you really want to be a drill press operator for the rest of your life?”
“That’s not the point, Macie. I want the choice. I earned the right to have a choice. So did you!” She motioned to a group of women having lunch a short distance away. “So did all of us. I like the financial independence. I like being part of a team. I love accomplishing things and the respect that goes with that. We helped build, what, eight big ships in two years? Didn’t you feel proud that you personally accomplished something when those ships were launched?”
Macie nodded. Nora continued. “Besides, I’ve already proven I could learn a skill and be good at it. That should count for something after the War.”
“You don’t know what it’s going to be like after the War. I’m worried about the layoffs, too. I left Derek a message…”
“Speak of the devil,” Nora eyed Derek as he came th
rough a doorway in the superstructure.
He approached the two girls looking somber. “They told me I could find you two up here.” He looked at Macie. “You left me a message?”
“That was Friday, Derek.” Macie’s face-hardened, her voice firm.
“Sorry. Been a little busy lately.”
“Laying off people?” Nora asked with obvious sarcasm.
Derek stepped back. “Is that what this is about? Look ladies, I’m not making these decisions. I’m not that high up on the food chain to decide who stays and who goes. I just do what I’m told.”
“Why are we still here?” Macie asked. “Are you pulling strings for us?”
“I can only make recommendations. You both have seniority so keeping you on isn’t so hard.”
“What about the colored and the other women? Why are so many being let go?” Macie still had an edge in her voice.
“Same reason. Seniority. Last in, first out.”
Both girls gave Derek a skeptical look.
“Look around, ladies. There’s only one carrier under construction. It’s obvious we don’t need as many people as when we had five in the works. We had to let them go.”
“Will they find jobs, Derek?” Macie’s tone softened a bit.
“I called around. There are only seven carrier hulls under construction in the five shipyards in the country that can build them. No new hulls have been laid down since August and none are planned. I guess the navy only needed the twenty-four they ordered.”
“So all those people are out of jobs?” Nora asked.
“Some factories in the North are still hiring. They may have to relocate. That shouldn’t be a problem. Most of them moved here to get this job, like you two. I think they’ll find work.”
Nora scoffed. “I just think they’re trying to shove us women back into the lives we had before the War.”
Derek looked directly at Nora. “They may try, Nora, but nothing will be the same when the War ends. Society will be turned upside down. Everything will change. You’ll see.”
“I hope you’re right, Derek. Women deserve better,” Macie offered. She noticed some papers in Derek’s hand. “What do you have there?”
Derek frowned. “It’s not good news.” He handed Macie the letter from Roxie dated 19 December. She began to read it softly out loud while Nora read over her shoulder. They read for a few moments and the letter came to an abrupt end. Derek fought back tears as he handed them another letter.
December 21, 1944
Dear Derek,
You don’t know me but I’m a close friend of Roxie Rawls. She left the attached letter on her writing tablet when she had to leave to ferry a plane. She never finished the letter because she never came back. I’m sorry to have to inform you that her plane went down in a storm and she along with her co-pilot are missing and presumed lost.
I know you were close friends. She spoke of you often and was very fond of you. I thought the least I could do was forward her last letter to you and advise you of her fate. We here in the WASPs will miss her terribly. She was a loyal and caring friend and a great pilot. I’m so sorry!
With deepest sympathy and regret,
Dora Dougherty
Chapter Sixty-Eight
Bedford, Virginia - September 11, 2001
“Three can keep a secret, if two of them are dead.”
Benjamin Franklin (1706 - 1790)
J.P. Kilroy pulled into the National D-Day Memorial at ten minutes to eight in the morning. The site was vastly different than what he remembered from his last and only visit over three years before. He drove around the empty circular parking lot that circumscribed the memorial and parked near an opening. He noticed how new and clean everything was as he walked to the ersatz shoreline and sat on one of the many smooth, shiny marble benches facing the water. There were only a few people walking about. His dad offered to give him and Frank West a personal tour of the memorial. As he waited, he reflected on the intervening years since his last visit to Bedford.
As far as J.P. was concerned, the last three years flew by in a flash. After finding out the man who raised him was not his biological father, he was convinced he discovered what the old men were hiding. Coupled with the last three years of a tumultuous presidency, a contested national Presidential election that went all the way to the Supreme Court and his complicated relationship with Cynthia Powers, J.P. had neither the time nor desire to chase down the identity of his real father. His mother had ample opportunity to consort with other men so he resigned himself to the probability he may never know for sure. J.P. also acknowledged that even his dad might not know, although it was likely he knew it was someone other than himself. He resisted the temptation to drag himself through those emotions once again and focused on his surroundings.
J.P. remembered the President of the United States just dedicated the D-Day Memorial two months earlier on the sixth of June. He could see it was laid out in a huge circle with a wide road surrounding it. The massive arch was the dominant feature as one approached through the main entrance. The word OVERLORD was inscribed across the top. Three huge white stripes on the arch represented the invasion stripes marked on every Allied plane that flew on D-Day. Under the arch the visitors would come face-to-face with a dark green statue of an Army Ranger scaling the cliff at Pointe-du-Hoc. His Thompson submachine gun was raised high over his head in a triumphant gesture having successfully scaled the dangerous heights. Looking out beyond the statue, the perspective was looking from atop Pointe-du-Hoc across the sea toward England.
Two inclined ramps, one on each side, led down from the “heights” to the next lower level and a tan colored depiction of a narrow sandy beach. Lying on the half-moon shaped beach were three dark olive drab bronze statues of soldiers. One was lying lifeless. Another was dragging the inert body of a fellow GI inland. The lifelike scene was riveting and compelling.
Looking up from the beach toward the heights, one could see three more Rangers in bronze laboring mightily to gain the summit. Taut ropes, dangling feet and joined hands testified to the strain and struggle to breach the cliff.
Beyond the beach was the water, also shaped in a semi-circle to follow the contour of the beach. There were iron cross-shaped obstacles reaching up from the water representing the gripping danger that lurked where the waves touched the land. Another soldier in the water waded inland, rifle held high overhead. A granite landing craft with a lowered ramp dominated the center but the most striking aspect of the beach display was the simulation of bullets striking the water. At random intervals, sprays would leap out of the water at various points with a soft but definitive cracking sound. Even in the welcoming hills of Virginia, the Stonewallers could not escape the relentless gunfire of the invisible enemy.
Four marble steps led up from the pool to the land and were ringed by a series of low, flat marble benches. In front of the benches was a simple chain separating the steps from the rest of the memorial. To keep the kids out, he thought. Behind the benches was a vast, open circular area paved with large gray marble and granite tiles. This huge area represented the English Channel. The lines on the floor showed the sea-lanes taken by the vast armada of 5,000 ships. Encircling this vast, flat area was a low concrete wall adorned with plaques and flags honoring both individuals and units that participated in D-Day. There were hundreds of them. The plaques on the Necrology Wall listed the names of all Allied servicemen killed in action on D-Day, the only place in the world to do so.
Well beyond the wall, and directly opposite the beach, was a gray stone cupola covering a full-length statue of General Dwight David Eisenhower, the architect and leader of the greatest invasion in history. Between the cupola and the “sea” was a small garden with flowers arranged in shape and color to replicate the shoulder patch of SHAEF. The crescent shaped patch with the flaming sword and rainbow was recognizable to everyone who served in the European Theatre of Operations. The memorial, in all of its exquisite beauty, was framed beneath the back
drop of the majestic Blue Ridge Mountains.
J.P. pulled out a brochure. He followed the descriptions of the various parts of the memorial with his eyes. The vast open space could accommodate hundreds of chairs for an evening concert, speech or lecture. It was a marvelous facility with a clean, well thought out design and captivating bronze statues. The feeling was both eerie and comforting. It was a place blessed with an unexplained energy that elicited a visceral reaction. He felt his own hair standing on the nape of his neck. It was as if the spirits of the fallen had returned to revisit Omaha Beach in Bedford and were all around him.
He attended Harley’s wake and funeral the day before. It was a simple affair. The small quaint funeral home was filled with many friends and neighbors including members of the local American Legion and Veterans of Foreign Wars posts. Surrounding the casket were pictures of Harley as a youth in uniform. His face was young, fresh and proud. He had an expression of pride and fulfillment repeated in other youthful pictures of old veterans lying in funeral homes across the land. Frank had also informed J.P. that Lincoln was too ill to travel and Sky had passed away the year before. The old warriors continued to pass on at an unremitting rate.
J.P. shifted his weight on the hard marble bench. He agreed to meet the man who raised him as a courtesy. After all, the old guy did pay for school and appeared anxious to bring them closer together. But J.P. couldn’t help but put more distance between them as time went on. Life intervened. Besides, he already knew the dark family secret so there was no reason to cultivate a closer relationship. To keep things cordial, J.P. continued to call him “Dad”. They spoke from time to time but J.P. never revealed what he had discovered.
Suddenly he spotted the two old men at the top of the ramp. They walked slowly down the incline. Frank was wearing an American Legion cap strewn with patches and medals. His dad wore a baseball cap with the Screaming Eagle emblem. Both wore windbreakers. They made their way slowly to the bench and sat, one on each side of him. No one spoke for a long few minutes.
The Last Jump: A Novel of World War II Page 66