Home of Her Heart (Hearts of the War Book 2)

by Shanna Hatfield

  Klayne gave the photo one last glance and placed it in his wallet. He pulled out the wedding photo he’d had to trim down to make fit in the small space. He handed it to Bob.

  His friend whistled. “Well, give me the dope, man. How did you meet? When did you get married? What’s her name?” Bob grinned as he studied the photograph. “You’ve been holding out on me all this time.”

  Klayne took the photo from Bob and slid it inside his wallet, tucking it back into his pocket. The two of them ambled across the deck, heading below for breakfast. “I met her New Year’s Eve. Some of the fellas talked me into going to a party and she was there. I don’t know what happened, but I just couldn’t get her off my mind.”

  “And how come you didn’t tell me about her sooner?” Bob asked as they made their way down a set of steps.

  “I dunno. I guess it’s all seemed like a crazy dream and I was afraid if I talked about it, I’d wake up and she’d be gone.” Klayne respectfully tipped his head to a group of passing sailors as they headed toward the mess deck. “When I found out I was shipping out, I asked Delaney to marry me and she did, that very day. We left the following afternoon.”

  Bob gawked at him. “You mean you married this sweet girl and then left the next day? Why wasn’t she at the train station to see you off? Loads of the wives and girlfriends were there.”

  Klayne looked a little embarrassed. “I failed to tell her about that. Early that morning, I left her a note and snuck out of the house while she was sleeping. I thought it would be easier on her that way, but the one letter she wrote to me after that set me straight on how I’d be doing things in the future.”

  Bob chuckled. “I can’t wait to meet this girl. You said her name is Delaney?”

  “Yep. Delaney Danvers. Her father owns a big wheat and cattle ranch near Pendleton. She works just as hard as the men, and man alive, you should see her ride. She was one of the trick riders at the Round-Up.”

  “You don’t say.” Bob gave Klayne another studying glance. “And you married her the day before we pulled out?”

  “Yes. I just couldn’t stand the thought of dying on this mission without leaving something behind, someone behind. If I’m gonna die on this trip, I want it to have a purpose greater than just serving my country. I wanted it to be protecting someone I love. You know what I mean?”

  His friend grew solemn and settled a hand on his shoulder. “I do know, Klayne. I completely understand. I sure hope I don’t die out there, but if I do, things are squared away with Norene and the girls. I’m glad you have Delaney. Or at least you might if you don’t try sneaking out on her again.”

  Klayne smirked. “I think she’d probably hunt me down and shoot me if I did that.”

  Bob laughed. “I’ll give her the gun.”

  The two men spent the remainder of the day with their crews, attending to what seemed like a hundred and one little details before their planned day of departure. At a meeting that day, they were given another opportunity to back out of the mission, but no one did.

  That night, Klayne rested in his bunk, his mind going over every aspect of the mission. The first hurdle would be getting the plane into the air off the carrier. A missed takeoff meant a plunge into the Pacific Ocean. The other concern weighing heavily on him was having enough fuel to get them to the airfield where they were supposed to land in a friendly area of China, beyond the borders of what had been occupied by the Japanese. Even with the extra gas tanks they’d installed on all the planes, and cans of gas they’d carry with them, he wasn’t sure they’d have enough fuel to make it.

  He figured they had a fifty-fifty chance of getting the planes launched off the carrier. If they made it to Japan, he figured the odds were similar that the enemy would shoot them out of the air. By some miracle, if they made it all the way to China, he assumed another fifty-fifty chance existed they’d be captured. The probabilities seemed to be firmly stacked against survival.

  His thoughts wandered to his B-4 bag, packed and ready to go with a pistol, knife, an extra clip of ammunition, a day’s worth of C rations, a flashlight, a full canteen of water, a gas mask and a hand ax. He’d added several candy bars and cartons of cigarettes to his supplies. Even though he didn’t smoke, he thought the cigarettes might come in handy to use for a trade or bribe.

  The pistol they’d issued Klayne was in such bad shape, he joined several others in digging through a box of parts. The men carefully rebuilt their .45 weapons.

  Additional supplies came from the doctor who would serve as a gunner on one of the crews. He packed a medical kit for each raider that included a pint of whiskey, supposedly for snakebites. The doctor had lectured them on drinking only boiled water and eating only cooked food once they arrived in China. Then he gave them all their final vaccinations.

  Klayne grinned as he recalled one of the men muttering how the doctor thought all disease must have started in China for the way he went on and on about being careful to avoid getting cuts or any open wounds.

  Like the rest of the men on this mission, Klayne felt edgy. He just wanted to get the raid over with. From the moment the colonel told them they’d be bombing Tokyo and a few surrounding cities, he’d felt relief that they were actually going to do something that would not only strike fear into the enemy, but also boost the spirits of those at home.

  Thoughts of home made his heart ache with a longing to be back in Pendleton with his wife. Klayne closed his eyes and pictured Delaney riding her horse across a snowy pasture. Her enchanting scent filled his senses, lulling him into pleasant dreams.

  The following morning, he rose early, as was his habit. He went up to the flight deck to check on the plane and found the gunner there, also taking a look at it. Together, they made their way below decks for breakfast, where Klayne took a seat next to Bob.

  “If we keep eating like this, I’m going to need all new uniforms,” Bob said, patting his stomach as he forked another mouthful of eggs and ham.

  “It’s sure been good grub,” Klayne agreed. “I heard, though, that after a month or so, they run out of the fresh vegetables and meat, and things aren’t quite so peachy.”

  “That makes sense,” Bob said, buttering a biscuit. “I’m glad they still have plenty of good food now, though.”

  “Me, too.” Klayne visited with Bob and the other men around them as they ate.

  Klayne and Bob were on their way up to the flight deck when a muffled roar vibrated through the ship. Cries of battle stations immediately followed.

  “What in the heck?” Bob asked, staying on Klayne’s heels as the two men rushed for the top deck. The bitterly cold, stormy weather didn’t faze them as they looked around to see if they were under attack. Other air crew members joined in the scramble and flung around questions, but no one had any answers. The ship shuddered and echoed with the sound of heavy gunfire.

  On the flight deck, the men watched a nearby cruiser shoot another blast. In the distance, Klayne could see an enemy ship low in the water emitting a black plume of smoke while dive-bombers circled over it. The Japanese boat erupted in flames then slipped beneath the waves, but not before they’d sent out a transmission, warning Japan of the approaching armada of ships.

  Amid the deep bursts of guns firing from a cruiser, the sea crashing against the ships, the wind howling fiercely, and the excited cheers of the men, Klayne heard someone yell, “Let’s go!”

  He and Bob raced back to their bunks to get their bags. Glad he’d left his packed and ready, Klayne quickly tucked in the last of his belongings and ran back to the flight deck.

  Sailors slid across the wet surface to help the airmen yank off engine and gun turret covers. Others topped off fuel tanks. Klayne helped rock the plane back and forth to get the air bubbles out and make more room for the much-needed fuel.

  While the gunner stowed five-gallon gas cans handed up through the rear hatch, Klayne helped lift them in. Keyed up on adrenalin and excitement to be heading out on the mission, the first bombing of
Japan, Klayne felt ready, yet strangely unprepared. They were hundreds of miles from Tokyo, almost twice the distance they’d planned to fly. Would the fuel last long enough to get them to China? Would the Japanese be waiting for them, ready to shoot them all down before they had a chance to drop a single bomb?

  A voice over the ship’s speakers ordered, “Army pilots, man your planes!” Most of the men were already hastily preparing to embark on the journey.

  Klayne tuned out the booming bark of commands from the carrier’s island as he worked, but admired the way the Navy jumped in and took charge. Ropes were untied, wheel blocks whipped out of the way, and the little mechanical donkey moved planes into position for takeoff.

  When the Navy finished, the planes were criss-crossed along the back end of the flight deck, two abreast, with the sixteenth plane’s tail hanging off the carrier. Klayne couldn’t fathom how the lead plane would have enough room to takeoff.

  During the frantic preparations to launch the mission far ahead of the planned departure the following day, the carrier plowed forward into head winds, trying to take the planes just that much closer to the destination. Every gallon of fuel saved in flight could be the difference between life and death.

  Klayne felt a hand grab his arm and turned to look at Bob. His friend looked him in the eye. “Whatever happens, it’s been a pleasure to know you,” the man said, shaking Klayne’s hand. “If I don’t make it out of this thing, make sure this letter reaches Norene.” Bob handed him an envelope.

  “You’ll make it just fine, you sappy dunce.” Klayne tucked the envelope inside his leather bomber’s jacket. “And when we get on the other side of this, I’ll even buy you dinner to celebrate.”

  “It’s a deal. I’ll order a big juicy steak, hot buttered rolls, mashed potatoes smothered in gravy, blueberry pie, and…” Bob sobered and gave Klayne a bear hug. “Be safe, my friend.”

  Klayne returned the hug then stepped back. “You, too, Bob. Thank you. And if something happens to me, please let my wife know how much I love her.”

  The man nodded once then jogged over to his B-25 and scrambled inside. Klayne climbed into his crew’s plane, fighting back the feelings of claustrophobia that always swamped him when he entered the plane. Taller than many of the men on the mission, the average height for a pilot was around five-eight while the gunners averaged closer to five-four. The narrow, confined spaces didn’t even allow room for him to stand upright once he was inside the plane.

  He cast a glance to the skies overhead. The weather was fine for flying, but the sea was another matter. The storm-tossed waves rocked the carrier until it looked like a seesaw, bobbing down and up. If a wave hit a plane on takeoff, a crash seemed inevitable. The idea of landing in the churning seawater made Klayne’s gut clench as the dangerous reality of the situation settled over him.

  Instead of a raid over Tokyo under the cover of darkness, they’d have to drop the bombs in broad daylight. The pilot offered one last opportunity for the crew to back out, but none of them did.

  Determined to see the mission through to the end, Klayne slid down the crawlway and settled into the bombardier’s seat. He looked out the clear plastic cover at the B-25s lined up in front of him and the seawater gurgling over the end of the deck.

  The lead plane, piloted by their colonel, revved its engines while the signal officer waved a checkered flag in circles. Sailors pulled away the wheel chocks holding the plane in place. The signal officer dropped the flag and the bomber roared down the flight deck. The plane’s wheels hugged the white line that had been painted along the length of the deck. The B-25 charged to the end of the flight deck and disappeared.

  Klayne held his breath then released it in a whoosh when the plane zoomed up and into the gray skies above the bow of the ship.

  Sailors cheered in an ear-shattering celebration of success and encouragement unlike anything Klayne had ever heard.

  The planes took off one after another, with scant minutes between each departure. In no time at all, Klayne found himself clutching the edge of his seat in nervous anticipation as the pilot of their plane revved the engines to a deafening roar.

  The signal officer dropped to the deck and they stuttered forward down the runway, timed for the plane to lift off as the ship crested a wave. The bomber neared the left edge of the ship, but the pilot guided the plane back onto the white line as he picked up speed. One minute they were on the ship, the next in the air as a sheet of ocean spray waved them on their way.

  All sixteen planes made it into the air, flying in a staggered string due west toward the Japanese coast.

  If all went according to plan, the crew had more than two thousand miles of non-stop flying in front of them before they could land. Thoughts of the airfields in China, prepared for their arrival, impressed Klayne with how much planning had gone into the mission.

  It wasn’t until they were in the air that Klayne realized he’d failed to pack any food to eat beyond the candy bars he’d tucked into his bag. And his bag was buried in the back of the plane where he couldn’t even reach it if he’d wanted to. He should have grabbed a thermos of coffee or water, or brought along sandwiches. He listened as the pilot used the inter-phone system to call down to him. “K.C., did you pack a lunch?”

  “No, sir. I got so excited about getting everything else taken care of, I completely forgot.” Klayne hoped he wasn’t the only one stupid enough to leave without giving a thought to extra food.

  “We did, too,” the pilot said with a chuckle. “We’ll starve together, I guess.”

  The plane skimmed above the swells of the ocean while the occupants remained silent for the most part, nerves taut, each man lost in his own thoughts. Klayne focused primarily on his responsibilities, playing over and over in his mind what he needed to do. He couldn’t give any thought to Delaney because it would distract him to the point of driving him mad.

  Instead, he visualized flying over their targets in Tokyo and dropping the bombs. Hours into the trip, Klayne felt antsy. The sun chased away the clouds as they drew closer to Japan. Then, in the distance, land rose ever so subtly above the surface of the water. Small boats anchored off the beach bobbed in the water like a child’s toy in a bathtub as their plane thundered above them. White sands rapidly blended into rolling green fields.

  Klayne didn’t know what he expected, but the tidy farm fields, lush green grass, and fruit trees filled with blossoms wasn’t how he pictured the land of the enemy. It was lovely, picturesque, and the first land he’d seen since they’d left California behind. Buildings soon filled the landscape and Klayne drew in a breath as they whizzed over a school. The low altitude at which the plane flew gave him an unobstructed view. Little ones stood outside, waving with big smiles on their faces.

  The enormity of the task before him, before them all, settled on him with a crushing weight. Whatever happened was down to a matter of do or die. There was no going back, no changing their course of action.

  The sight of a Japanese flag, a blood red circle contrasting sharply against a stark white background, flapping on a tall flagpole brought him back to the reason of their mission. The Japanese had taken something from America that could never be replaced. They’d attacked them, wreaked havoc on America, and tried to bring the nation to their knees.

  Now, it was time for retribution.

  Klayne wanted to balk at the idea of potentially injuring or killing innocent civilians with the bombings, but the colonel assured him it couldn’t be helped. Loss of life was inevitable in this mission. Klayne just prayed the men on the B-25s wouldn’t be among those who died today.

  “Keep your eyes open,” the pilot said, giving everyone a reminder to watch out for enemy planes as he flew through a valley heading toward Tokyo.

  Suddenly, the sky seemed full of Zeros flying above them. Klayne leaned forward, waiting for incoming fire, but none happened. It was as though the enemy couldn’t see them skimming just feet above the tops of an evergreen forest.


  Nerves jangled, Klayne craned his neck and watched as the planes disappeared before he released a long, relieved breath. “That was close,” he muttered. With every second and every mile, the mission became more and more real, as well as the possibility he wouldn’t survive it.

  After flying over a few small villages, they topped a hill and there, glistening like a smooth sheet of glass, was Tokyo Bay. The early afternoon sunlight reflected off the water, making it appear as ongoing as an ocean.

  Klayne could see several large fires burning from the bombers who’d reached Tokyo before them. A smoky haze loomed over the northeastern section of the sprawling city.

  The pilot pulled up, gaining altitude in preparation for dropping the bombs. Antiaircraft fire thundered around them as they zoomed past the Imperial Palace.

  Klayne sighted in the first target as the pilot announced, “bomb bay doors open.” He dropped the first five hundred pound bomb on a factory that covered almost half a city block with multiple chimneys looming against the sky. The bomb landed on the outer rim of the target, and hit, causing minimal damage.

  With no time to worry about failing to maximize destruction opportunities, Klayne focused on the next target, another factory. The second bomb detonated atop a pile of coke, a fuel made from coal used in steel mills. The third bomb also landed on a factory. As they flew through the southern part of the city, he dropped the final bomb, an incendiary. The moment it hit the wind, the bomb separated, dropping dozens of small firebombs on a shipbuilding factory. The explosives scattered, igniting fires across the area.

  Klayne glanced back and watched one of the five-hundred pound bombs explode. The factory walls puffed out, as though the building had filled with air, and then dissolved in a black cloud laced with red.

  In a scant minute, they’d completed the task of dropping bombs on Tokyo.

  The enemy had successfully traced their altitude, but they continued to miss hitting the plane as flak burst into explosions all around them. The pilot dove lower and picked up speed, anxious to get away. Klayne didn’t draw a breath as they roared past the emperor’s home and out of the city.