The Boxcar Blues
Page 25
“He sure was, but they didn’t return.”
A captain looking over a wall chart said, “He had two engines shot up and landed in a field, deep inside enemy lines, about five miles from the refinery.”
Catwalk knew there was no chance they could make it back from deep inside enemy territory. Curly was undoubtedly a prisoner of war—if he hadn’t died in the crash or been shot already.
He returned to his barracks and thought about whether to write Billy Sue. She’d want to know and he didn’t want her reading an ambiguous account in the newspapers. He wrote her, trying to sound upbeat, telling her that Curly might be able to make it to allied territory before being captured. Although he knew it was a reality, he didn’t mention that Curly might not have survived the crash landing.
After writing Billy Sue, Catwalk wrote a long letter to his Mom, then got drunker than he’d even been in his life.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Weeks passed and Catwalk heard nothing about Curly, but he wasn’t surprised. Information on POWs was hard to get and often misleading. His only recourse was to pray for his friend and hope, if he was alive, that he was treated humanely.
In spite of the cost in allied lives, the Ploesti raid had been a huge success. Since the raid there had been fewer German aircraft sighted on their missions and a lack of fuel was given as the reason. This was the first clear indication that the allies were winning the war in Europe and it made a noticeable difference in moral.
With the decline of German aircraft, the pilots of the 99th had turned their attention to the railroads. Germany was trying to move its freight by rail, but the red tailed P-51s proved to be just as effective at stopping rail traffic as they’d been at defeating the Luftwaffe.
Catwalk had just returned from destroying two freight trains and blowing up a strategic trestle when the squadron orderly called out to him, “Lieutenant Jackson, you’ve got mail.”
The first of two letters was from his brother Cecil with routine news of the family. Everyone was well and they’d finally finished the second house. Catwalk smiled as he read that his Momma had finally planted her first flower garden. This had been a life-long dream of hers and he felt good that he’d helped her achieve it.
The second letter was from Julio. Although there was no return address, he recognized the scrawl that he’d seen on so many maintenance reports at the airline. He opened the letter and read, in shock—Barney had died.
His hands trembling, Catwalk stared at the words. It couldn’t be! He went into the barracks and sat down on his bunk. Tears welled in his eyes as he read over and over how the nurse had found him dead one morning. Then he cried out loud.
He had never thought about losing Barney because even after the accident, he’d been a strong and vibrant person. Even though he was immobile he’d still radiated a strength that few people could equal. It just didn’t seem possible that he was gone. Next to his Momma, Barney had been the most steadying influence in his life and he’d often thought of where he’d be had it not been for Barney’s help. Now, his life’s mentor was gone. Within weeks he’d lost both of his best friends. He had to question: What kind of God was it that kept taking the people who meant so much to him?
What could possibly happen next? Even if he was shot down and captured by the Germans, he wouldn’t feel as bad as he felt right now. He felt incredibly alone, much the same as after Sam had been killed.
He thought of his Momma’s words: “In any tragedy, always try to look at the bright side.” Sometimes, however, it was very hard to find bright side. He thought about his family. He still had them and he was thankful for that. There was somewhat of a bright side, but it didn’t make the hurt of losing someone like Barney, any less.
John Casey, a fellow pilot with whom he’d become close, approached his bunk. “Hey, Cat. You wanna go out and run a few miles?” Then Casey saw him up close and asked, “Good God, man. You look terrible. What happened?”
“Come on. I’ll tell you while we run.”
Catwalk relayed the bad news. Casey had heard about Curly being shot down, but Catwalk’s latest loss was more tragedy piled on top of that. His friend sensed the magnitude of his loss and asked, “You gonna be O.K. to fly?”
“I think flying is the one thing that’ll help me keep my mind off this.”
“You’re right, Cat. Get as much seat time as you can.”
Catwalk flew every mission assigned to him and filled in on several others when pilots were unable to make their flight. Germany had come out with the ME-262, the first operational jet fighter, but the P-51 pilots weren’t daunted. In air combat the jet had more speed, but wasn’t as maneuverable. For all the hoopla, the German jets soon learned if they engaged an aircraft with a red tail, their future would be shortened. The Mustangs still ruled the skies over Europe.
In three months, Catwalk racked up twelve more kills, bringing his total to eighteen, second highest in the air group. One day he was summoned to the squadron commander’s office. The C.O. said, “Lieutenant Jackson, you’ve shot down your share of the Germans. Why don’t you leave a few for the other guys. You‘re going back to Tuskegee to serve as an instructor until your hitch, or the war is over.”
The first thought that crossed his mind was whether he’d be able to find and meet the woman, who looked identical to Sam, that he’d seen from the bus. His chances were slim, but if he was stationed there he’d have an opportunity. “Yes sir. When do I leave sir?”
“Next week. We’ve got some fresh blood coming in. You break in your replacement, then take your medals and go home.”
“Will do, sir.”
Eight days later, Catwalk packed his duffel bag with his worldly belongings, which included the Distinguished Service Cross with eight Oak Leaf clusters, then flew to Rabat, Morocco and boarded a ship for the United States.
When he’d been flying every day, Catwalk had been able to overlook the racial inequities that he men in the 99th were subjected to on a constant basis. Now, however, he found himself thrust back into the world that was distinctly split into two classes—black and white.
The first such reminder was after his ship docked. A sign at the bottom of the gangplank separated the black servicemen from the white. On the train trip back to Tuskegee, while the white servicemen were given cold beer and meals, he rode in the segregated coaches of the train. They were given water.
At Tuskegee, the town was as segregated as ever, but thanks to Colonel Parrish, who was still the base commander, improvements were being made on the base.
On his first weekend off, Catwalk and another instructor caught the bus to town to the black movie theater to see Casablanca, starring Humphrey Bogart. After the movie, they were walking toward a soda fountain when Catwalk saw the same young woman, the one who was spitting image of Sam, that he’d seen on the bus the bus ride out of town so long ago. He thought of how incredibly lucky it was to see her again. He had to talk to her.
“Wait here, Hal, I’ve got to talk to someone.”
Catwalk approached the woman. Up close, he saw the resemblance to Sam was uncanny. He said, “Excuse me, Ma’am. I apologize for this, but you look like someone I used to know back in New Mexico. Is your name Wells?”
The woman looked at him and started to say something, but stopped when a man joined them. The man said, “Rosemary, is this guy bothering you?”
She said, “No, he thought I was someone else.” She turned to Catwalk, brushed a lock of hair out of her face and said, “You must be mistaken. My name is not Wells.”
They turned and walked away.
As Catwalk drank his soda, the woman’s face haunted him. There was no way she could look that much like Sam and not be related.
Catwalk and Hal returned to the base. After getting off the liberty bus, Hal asked, “You want to go over to the officer’s club and grab a couple beers?”
Cat begged off, “No thanks, Hal. Maybe some other time. Right now I think I’ll try to get caught up on my l
etter writing.”
“OK, suit yourself, Cat.”
He then returned to his bunk, laid down and thought about the woman. He had heard that everyone has a double, someone who looks identical to them. Whether that was true or not he couldn’t say, but the resemblance here was uncanny. Her voice and mannerisms, like when she brushed back a lock of hair, were exactly like Sam’s. Catwalk thought about trying to talk to her again. If she was married to that guy, he didn’t want to cause the woman a problem, but he just wasn’t convinced that she was completely unrelated to Sam. He decided he was going to talk to her, just once more.
Two weeks later Catwalk walked into the theater by himself. The movie hadn’t even started yet when the same woman came and sat down next to him. She whispered, “Listen to me. I’m married to the man you saw and he’s insanely jealous. If he sees me talking to you, he’ll beat me. My maiden name was Wells. Did you know my sister, Samantha?”
Catwalk nodded his head and ate his popcorn.
“Where is she now?”
“She was killed several years ago. Shot by a hateful deputy.”
When the woman didn’t say anything, Catwalk turned to look at her. Tears streamed down her face. She wiped her eyes and said, “How well did you know her?”
“She was the only woman I’ve ever loved.”
“Can you meet me at the park on the edge of town tomorrow so we can talk?”
“I can, but I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“Two o’clock, please.” And she left.
Catwalk arrived at the park at one forty five. Because she’d said that her husband was the jealous and violent type, he was apprehensive about seeing the woman, but he desperately wanted to talk to her.
She arrived ten minutes later and sat down across the picnic table from him. Seeing her in the daylight revealed lines of fear around her eyes. He cursed the man that could do this to such a beautiful woman.
She said, “My name is Rosemary Trent now. How did you come to know my sister?”
Catwalk told the entire story, from the bogus murder charges in Texas, to the shooting in that took Samantha’s life. When he finished, she said, “You really did love her. I can tell by the way you talk about her.”
“I’m not sure there will ever be anyone else for me. I don’t think I’ll ever find a woman to measure up to her.”
She smiled. It was the same smile that had brought him so much joy and lit up his life for the brief time Sam was with him. The smile he never thought he’d see again. He felt an incredible sense of going back to the happiest times of his life.
She said, “Are you going back to New Mexico after the war?”
“Probably. My family is in Mississippi, but there’s nothing there for me. I’ll go back to Vaughn and see what kind of work I can find.”
“I hope you find what you’re looking for, Catwalk. I hope you find happiness and goodness.”
“Thank you, Rosemary. And I hope the same for you.”
They stood and Rosemary came around the table to hug him. Catwalk put his arms around her and felt the woman he’d been missing for ten years. He held her tighter and longer than he should have, but he didn’t know if he’d ever again enjoy the pleasure of holding a woman this much.
He stepped back and said, “Sorry. I, ah….”
“Don’t apologize, Catwalk. I understand.”
Catwalk returned to the base with a broad range of mixed emotions. On one hand, the woman he’d been missing for so long, existed in her twin sister. But, she was married to another man. A man who didn’t treat her well and made her live in fear. He’d be doing himself, and her, a favor if he took her away from him, but he knew it was wrong to interfere in their marriage. He thought about this several times every day.
In recognition of the incredible job they’d done in Europe, Colonel Parrish had put up a sign in front of the barracks. It read: Home of The 332nd Air Group. 200 escort missions without losing a single bomber to enemy aircraft.
This was a small gesture, but for the men of the 99th and other squadrons in the Air Group, it was greatly appreciated. The pilots walked with their chests stuck out just a little farther and the confident smiles of proud men were seen more often.
Unfortunately, these were times when a good deed could be neutralized in the blink of an eye. A newspaper article from the Pittsburg Defender, a prominent black newspaper told of the unkindest cut of all; German and Italian POWs were being treated better than the black servicemen in the U.S.A.
Catwalk read the story to several other black instructors. “Due to a lack of stockade space in Europe, many German and Italian prisoners of war have been shipped to the United States. While they are here, the prisoners are often escorted to USO shows, movies and dances; all activities that are off limits to black American service personnel. Restaurants in the communities where they’re held are glad to serve them meals, but those same restaurants won’t serve black American servicemen. Local laundries will launder the POW’s uniforms, but they won’t give the same service to the black GIs.”
He then said, “Men, I’ll be discharged in a few months, and I’ll go on with my life. I’ll take with me one memory: That I was a member of the finest group of fighter pilots that has ever defended America. We did it with very little support from our own commanders, but regardless of the circumstances, no one can ever take away from us the fact that we were the best of the best. Quite possibly there will never be another group of fighter pilots to equal our record.”
The group responded, “Amen.”
In November, 1945, Catwalk reported to the Godman Field Separation Center for discharge. He then drove to Meridian, where his Momma was overjoyed to see him.
“Luke, I can’t believe it, you’re home.” She hugged him and planted kisses on both cheeks. “Oh Lord, I’m so glad you made it home. Luke, you don’t know how much I worried.”
“I’m just fine, Momma. I came through without a scratch.”
“My don’t you look handsome in your uniform.” She yelled out the window, “Roseann, honey, come in here. Luke’s home.”
His little sister came running and wrapped her arms around him. He said, “My goodness, aren’t you getting to be a beautiful young lady.”
“I’m gonna be twelve next month.”
“I know, look what I brought you.” Luke unpacked his duffle bag until he found the music box he’d bought in Morocco.
Roseann unwrapped it and her face glowed with joy. “Oh, Luke. It’s so beautiful. This is the prettiest present I’ve ever had. Thank you.” She ran off to play with her present.
After dinner his Momma asked, “What are your plans now, Luke?”
He said, “I’m going back out to New Mexico in a few days. Momma.”
His Mother looked forlorn and said, “I thought with Barney gone you might stay here.”
“There’s nothing for me here. I might be able to find a flying job out there.”
“I hope you find happiness, son.”
Catwalk didn’t say anything, but thought about Rosemary. He hadn’t told his Momma about her because he knew what she’d say if she knew he even talked to another man’s wife behind his back. Nevertheless, he thought about Rosemary often—and they were pleasant, comforting thoughts.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Catwalk arrived at the farm in New Mexico one week later. As expected, the place seemed empty without Barney’s presence. Over coffee Julio told him about Barney’s last days. “About six months before he died, he started getting sick more often. The nurse told me the end was near because his body wasn’t strong enough to fight off the sickness. She was right.”
“At least he didn’t suffer.”
“No, he didn’t; that’s one good thing.” Julio lit a cigar, then said, “He left me the farm in his will, with the provision that you and Curly have a home here anytime you want to come back. I’ll certainly honor this, but I’d rather have you here than Curly. He’s a little on the wild side.”
“Do you think that would have been good for her? Last time I talked to her, she said she was doing real well. I don’t know if she needs him or not.”
“I think it would be good for the child to have a father.”
Julio nodded in agreement, “Yes, I can’t argue with that.”
“The farm looks like it’s doing well. How long ago did you leave Rocky Mountain?”
“I resigned shortly after Barney died. The airline management expected the maintenance men to save money by cutting corners. I told them I wouldn’t do it and they threatened to fire me. I resigned and came back to run the farm full time.”
“The airline is in trouble, isn’t it?”
“They’re hanging on, but only because Davis’ group keeps getting bank loans to bail them out.”
“Are there a lot of disgruntled employees?”
“Oh, yes. After Davis took over, discontent spread through the airline like a wildfire. The people became indifferent in their work; turn-around times and passenger complaints increased. No one in management could figure it out.”
“I’m glad I sold my stock when I did.”
“Me too. It’s nice not having to worry about how you’re going to pay the bills.” Julio stood and stretched, “Well, I’ve got some things to do. Make yourself at home, Cat.”
When Julio went to finish his chores, Catwalk walked down to the oak tree to visit Barney’s and Sam’s grave. He told Sam that he’d met her sister, and he poured out the conflict he was feeling after seeing Rosemary. He then told Barney how much he appreciated all he’d done for him and Curly. When he left, he felt cleansed after talking to the people who’d meant so much to him, but he also felt an incredible sense of loneliness.
Catwalk then called the Levitz farm. With relief, he listened to Curly’s brother, “Curly’s fine. He survived in a POW camp, then after being discharged he came home for a few weeks. He left for Albuquerque about a few days ago. He said he was going out there to get married.”