Page 15 of Semper Fi

“Y ou are the men of H Company, Second Battalion, First Regiment, First Marine Division. I’m your company commander, Captain Brown.

” The young captain walked along the line of men, surveying them carefully.

Of medium height and build, with sandy hair and a snub nose, he was unremarkable, but carried an unmistakable air of quiet authority.

“This is a machine gun and heavy mortar company.”

They all listened intently as Brown explained their new training regimen.

Jim had been assigned to be a mortarman, and Cal had quickly offered to be his partner.

It was a relief having Cal there, and Jim thanked God they’d been lucky enough to be assigned the same company.

It was silly, but he’d come to think of his friend as a sort of guardian angel.

“This is not boot camp. You are United States Marines, and you should be damn proud of that.”

Jim stood a little straighter and could sense his fellow men doing the same.

“You are going to learn your new weapons inside and out. Before long, you’ll be able to assemble your mortars and machine guns with your eyes closed. So let’s get to work.”

The days at New River began to blend together in a haze of firing drills and lessons on weapon parts and names. Jim and Cal worked with 60 mm mortars. Over and over, they hauled the forty-five-pound tube, bipod and base plate and set up their weapon.

As Cal unfolded the bipod and snapped its legs into the base plate, he grumbled good-naturedly. “At least we can call this one a gun.”

When the sight was snapped into place and the tube of the mortar pointed at a high angle, they mimed dropping the shell into the muzzle.

Lining up the sight was an intricate business, and they learned how to use a compass to get a reading on their target area and line up their aiming stake in front of the gun.

With a young recruit named Greg Sullivan, whom everyone already called Sully, they rotated as number one and two gunners and ammo carrier, competing with other teams to be the fastest. When they moved on to using live ammo, Jim couldn’t help but feel nervous.

Cal was acting as number one gunner, and at his command of “Hanging!” Jim dropped the shell into the tube.

Cal shouted, “Fire!” and they all ducked their heads.

The shell soared right toward its target, exploding in a black cloud of smoke as deadly metal shrapnel scattered the area.

They cheered loudly at their success. But as they walked back from the drilling grounds that evening in casual route march, Jim couldn’t help but wonder what the shrapnel would do to a man.

Cal nudged him. “What’s eating you?”

“Nothing.”

“Uh-huh. Come on. There’s something on your mind.”

Jim relented. “I was thinking about that mortar. Wondering what kind of weapons the Japs will be lobbing back at us.”

Cal frowned, silent for a few moments. “I haven’t really thought about it. It’s strange—most of the time the war still feels so far away. Doesn’t it?”

“Yeah. It does.”

“I mean, I know that’s what we’re doing all this training for. We wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t a war. You’d be on the apple farm and I’d be a useless bastard with a Princeton degree and a fancy car. But…” He shrugged. “It doesn’t seem real.”

Jim slapped Cal’s arm lightly. “Except you could never be useless.”

“Oh, I think my father would disagree. Quite vehemently, in fact.”

Captain Brown shouted, “Company! Atten-shun!”

This meant they were nearing the base, and they always entered looking sharp. As one, their slouches disappeared and the men marched in time, rifles straight and heads high.

A few hours later they were out on the local road, slouching once more. “Come on, give some fighting men a lift!” Cal stuck his thumb out as he shouted, but the car sped by them into the night. “Traitor!”

Jim and the others laughed as they walked along the side of the road. They’d been given free time, which after boot camp felt utterly foreign. A few other men in their company had decided the only thing to do was hitchhike to New Bern.

As another car zoomed by, Jim asked, “Why don’t we just have a drink around here? There’s a bar right down the street.” Granted, it was little more than a shack, but surely it would serve their purposes.

One of the men answered, “Because there ain’t no girls out here in the boondocks!”

Barely eighteen, Sully agreed vehemently. “I need to pop my cherry before I go face those Nips.”

Cal slapped Jim on the back. “You may be a married man, but the rest of us aren’t.”

Soon they were piled in the back of a pickup truck that dropped them outside a dive bar in town.

Sure enough, there were girls aplenty, and Jim spent the evening chatting with Cal and trying to avoid the women’s avid gazes.

He nudged Cal. “You don’t have to keep me company.

Like you said, you’re not married. Go on and find a girl to dance with. ”

Cal drank his beer. “Nah, let the other guys have their fill.” He gazed around. “It’s strange, isn’t it? Our superiors treating us with respect and letting us have time off. I don’t quite know what to do with myself without that son of a gun Tyrell watching me like a hawk. ”

“I can’t say I’ll miss him.” It was odd to think they’d likely never see Tyrell again, and that he was screaming at his new recruits now.

“No, can’t say I will either, but I have to admit he knows what he’s doing. I’ve never worked that hard in my life. I feel like a new man.”

“So go dance. You don’t want to sit here with me all night. I’m no fun.” Jim smiled ruefully. “Can’t dance to save my life.”

“Did someone say dancing?” A blonde with red lips and a wide smile appeared at their table. “How about it?”

Before Jim could answer, Cal was already standing and edging away. “Sure, my buddy would love to dance with you.”

Jim shot to his feet and tried to sidestep the woman, but her painted fingers grasped his arm.

“Come on, sugar. Won’t you take a twirl with me?”

“Uh…I…” Jim hated to be rude, and quickly gave up the fight. “Of course, ma’am. It would be my pleasure.”

Holding the woman at arm’s length, Jim swayed awkwardly with her on the small, scuffed area of floor reserved for dancing.

When the song ended, he tried to step away, but she edged closer and held on tighter.

After another song went by, Jim offered to buy her a drink just to get off the dance floor.

Of course this led to a long conversation consisting of the woman rattling on while Jim nodded. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he hated small talk. When he spotted Cal and a local man by the door, he interrupted. “Sorry, ma’am, but I need to go with my friend. Cal!”

Cal jerked at the sound of his name, looking back with a strangely guilty expression. “We’re just getting some air.” The man beside him disappeared outside.

Jim hurried to the door. “But we should get going, right?”

“Nah, not yet. Stay and have fun. I’ll be back in five. We’re just smoking.”

Gazing around at the thick haze in the room, Jim raised an eyebrow. “Not enough smoke in here?”

“Go on and dance with the lady again, Jim. I’ll be right back.” The door closed behind him.

“Oh yes, let’s dance again! You’re a marvellous dancer.” The woman appeared by his side.

Jim’s gaze kept finding the door, and four songs went by before Cal returned alone. He looked strangely flushed considering it was a mild night. With a winning smile, Cal took the hand of a woman sitting alone and joined them on the dance floor.

As the tempo increased, Cal whirled by in a blur, and Jim couldn’t quite catch his eye.

1948

It was late afternoon as Jim and Cal made their way back through the orchard. Jim was more than ready for a shower and a hot meal.

Cal wiped his hands over and over with an old towel. “You realize my hands are going to smell like shit for days? Even with the gloves.”

Chuckling, Jim shrugged. “You said you were ready to do anything and everything.”

“I’d like to revise my statement to exclude anything and everything having to do with fertilizer.”

“Thought you were ready to get your hands dirty,” Jim teased.

“It’s a figure of speech, my friend.”

“Not here.”

Cal laughed. “No, I guess not. So, do you have any use for that now that Eddie’s gone?” He jerked his chin toward the cabin.

The little wooden building was situated at the bottom of the last long slope before the house and barn, which were just out of sight over the rise. “Not really. I’ll hire seasonal pickers this fall, but they’re day laborers from the area with their own homes.”

As they approached the cabin, Jim eyed it critically. About four hundred and fifty square feet, the one simple room was built of sturdy logs and had two small windows and a shake roof. A few of the shingles had seen better days, but it didn’t really matter since the cabin stood empty.

Cal pushed open the door with his boot, and Jim followed him inside the musty interior.

It was as Eddie left it: blankets folded at the foot of the narrow bed against the far wall, logs neatly stacked next to the wood-burning stove, and a bar of soap still resting next to the wash basin.

An outhouse sat among the hickory trees skirting the orchard.

In the breeze from the open door, a blue ribbon fluttered across the floor. Cal picked it up. “That’s strange.”

Jim reached out and rubbed the velvet between his fingertips. Ann’s face flickered through his mind, her hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. He blinked, pushing away the thought. “Must be Sophie’s. She used to visit Eddie when her chores were done. He was good with her.”

“Makes sense. I’ll bring it back to her. We’re friends now, after all.” The ribbon disappeared into Cal’s pocket.

Jim stepped outside the cabin, glad of the fresh air. “She told me you taught her a rhyme she’s not allowed to repeat to anyone.”