Page 39 of Semper Fi

“Y ou again.”

The young corpsman didn’t sound particularly surprised, and Cal shrugged with a half-hearted smile as he shook the rain from his hair and wiped his face. “It’s my stomach, doc.”

“Uh-huh. Go take the cot next to your buddy.” He nodded toward the back of the medical tent.

Mud and ever-present water squelching in his boots, Cal passed the rows of cots until he found Jim, who was curled on his side, nodding to something the boy in a nearby cot was saying.

When Jim saw Cal’s approach, his face lit up—as much as it could considering both his eyes were almost swollen shut.

Before Cal could say anything, the other Marine started chattering. “Hey, pal. So whaddya say? The Golden Gate in forty-eight?”

Cal squeezed Jim’s shoulder as he passed by and sat on the cot on Jim’s other side.

They were all too thin now, but Jim was alarmingly frail beneath his blanket.

Cal put on a smile. “I say that it’s only forty-four now, and if we have to spend another four years on these godforsaken islands they’re going to have to do something about this rain. ”

Since leaving the safety and comfort of Australia a year earlier, the months had ticked by, a monotony of training and fighting, and the hell of the jungle and the wetness that never went away.

Perhaps even more than the enemy, it was the jungle that wore them down, battering them endlessly with bugs and damp and disease.

The boy laughed, a little too manically. “Is it always like this? I dunno, I just got here last month, and it hasn’t stopped raining.”

“In the summer it’s unbearably hot. It’s a change of pace, at least.”

“Have you killed a lot of Nips? I haven’t had a chance to kill any yet. They say it’s malaria, and some people just get it really bad. I’m one of them. Boy, I’d hate to be sent home without killing a Jap.”

Jim rolled over to face Cal, grimacing. Some of the replacements were okay, but others were like this, still annoyingly gung ho.

“If I can go home without killing another man, that’ll be just fine with me,” Cal said. The thought of home made him ache unbearably.

The boy’s attention was caught by another patient, and Cal tuned him out. “How are you feeling?” he asked Jim.

“Better than I look. I hope.”

“Nah, you look fine.”

Jim’s puffy lips twitched. “If I didn’t know you I’d almost believe it. You should have been a corpsman, Cal. You could reassure the dying that everything would be okay. You have that way about you.”

“You’re not dying.” Cal’s tone was too sharp, and he forced a smile. “Not on my watch.”

“Speaking of which, you must be running out of excuses to get sent to sick bay.”

“Don’t underestimate me, Jim. There are plenty more where this came from.” Cal grinned.

Jim scratched his scalp and ghosted his fingertips over his swollen features. “Every time it starts to go down, it swells right back up. Doc thinks it’s some kind of bug or parasite. Maybe an allergy. Who knows.”

“Enjoy the rest. Not that we’ve gone to battle lately.

We’re coming across fewer and fewer Japs on patrol, which is good because we’re low on ammo.

Between you and me, I don’t think the Japs want Cape Gloucester anymore.

Or they’ve decided to just let the jungle be the end of us. Not a bad strategy. ”

“I’ve been resting for months, Cal. They finally released me from the hospital, and here I am in sick bay again. I need to fight. I need to stop letting you all down.”

“Hey, you’re not letting any of us down.

It wasn’t your fault you broke your ankle in that damn pothole.

Just like it’s not Sully’s fault he got that infection on top of the malaria flaring up.

No one blames either of you. We do blame you a little for the Coca-Cola you got to drink and the nurses you got to flirt with over there on Banika Island. ”

Jim tried to smile. “You’d suppose it would be great, huh?

But I couldn’t stop thinking about you here.

Wondering if you’d been hit.” He paused, taking a shaky breath.

“I don’t know what I’d do if you’d been gone when I came back.

Every day I hated myself for not being here fighting with you. Leaving you all to die.”

Cal rubbed Jim’s arm. “Don’t ever think like that. You couldn’t fight. And you can’t fight now when you can barely see. We’re doing just fine, so don’t worry.” But he had to admit that as glad as he’d been for Jim to be out of harm’s way, he’d missed him fiercely.

“You’re doing fine now that it’s winding down here. Still plenty of our guys dead.” Jim shivered. “Sometimes I hate them so much. The Japs. I hate them so deep down it’s like a disease. Maybe that’s what this is.” He waved a hand at his swollen face. “Hatred.”

“We all hate them. We have to. It’s war.” Cal picked up the blanket from the cot he was sitting on and spread it over Jim.

“I can’t remember what it’s like to be truly dry. I feel like I’m covered in mold from the inside.”

Cal nodded. “My socks are disintegrating again. I only got them last week.”

“I tried to write a letter home, but my pen clogged and then the point split in half. I remembered O’Neill over there had a pencil, but it had swollen and burst.”

“At least we’re out of the rain in here.” It battered the large tent’s roof endlessly in a constant chorus. “I haven’t had a smoke for days. Tried to keep them dry in my helmet, but no dice, as usual. ”

“We thought Guadalcanal was bad, but New Britain takes the cake.”

“Having been to the old Britain, which is damn miserable and damp enough, I have to agree.”

Jim sighed. “Melbourne seems like a dream now. Let alone home.” He pulled the thin blankets closer around his shoulders. “I don’t want to miss another Christmas. Missed two already.”

“That’s eight months away. Plenty of time for us to win this damn war.”

“She’s more than four and a half now. Walking and talking, and then some.

She’ll be old enough to understand Santa Claus.

To believe that reindeer landed on the roof when she sees the presents on Christmas morning.

Eddie, the man who tends the orchard, made her a little swing set.

Ann says he’s been a godsend. It should be me doing that.

Not him. I should be taking care of my family. ”

Cal patted Jim’s shoulder. What could he say?

“Ann sent a picture from last Christmas, but I can’t keep it dry.” Jim pulled his arm out from beneath the blankets and handed Cal the small, curling photograph.

Cradling it gingerly, Cal examined the stained picture. Sophie’s chubby-cheeked smile was fading already—her dark ringlets and the Christmas tree behind her disappearing as the paper yellowed. He could see Jim in the shape of her eyes and the set of her nose. “She’s beautiful, Jim.”

“Prettiest girl in the world. I don’t want to miss her next birthday.”

“I’m sure you’ll see her soon.”

Jim’s voice dropped to barely a whisper. “She won’t even know me. I’m a stranger to her. Her whole world is her mother and grandparents, and even Eddie. I bet she can’t even remember me.”

Cal crossed the narrow aisle and nudged Jim over on the cot so he could perch on the side.

When Jim was at his lowest, this was the fear that plagued him.

Cal would reassure him as often as he needed to.

He squeezed Jim’s arm and spoke softly. “Sophie’s your daughter.

Once you go back home, it won’t take long at all before she forgets you were ever gone. I promise.”

“What if I never go home, Cal?” Tears welled in Jim’s swollen eyes, leaking from the edges. “What if I never see her again?”

Cal hated seeing him like this, and cursed the Japs and a God he didn’t believe in. “Hey, hey. Of course you’re going home.” He smoothed his hand over Jim’s shorn hair. “We’re going to get through this.”

“It’s never going to end. After we won on Guadalcanal, and had that break in Australia, I didn’t think…

I hoped it wouldn’t be long.” Jim’s shoulders shook with a broken laugh.

“It just keeps going. One island after the other. Battles that never get us anywhere. Good men dying, and all these new boys coming to replace them. And the rain never stops. I feel like I’m growing vines—like the jungle’s consuming us bit by bit. ”

“I know.” Cal wanted to take Jim in his arms. Hold him and make everything better, and take the sickness from him for his own. Instead he pulled a sodden cloth from his pocket and gently wiped Jim’s tears from his cheeks. “It’ll be okay. It will.”

Jim swallowed thickly. “Sorry. You should go back. I’ll be fine.”

“Can’t. My stomach’s killing me, remember?” Cal smiled.

As if on cue, the corpsman made his way through the sick bay in their direction, so Cal stretched out on his cot. He schooled his features into a pained expression, shooting Jim a wink. He groaned. “Doc, I think I’m dying.”

“Uh-huh.” The corpsman shined a light into Cal’s eyes and gave him a cursory exam. “It’s probably a parasite.”

“Is that your answer for everything?”

The corpsman smiled wryly. “Pretty much. This fuckin’ jungle’s full of ’em. That garbage they’re passing off as food is probably gonna kill us before the Japs get a chance.”

“Did anyone ever tell you your bedside manner needs work?”

At this, the corpsman grinned. “Yeah, but they’re all dead now.

” He turned to check on Jim—another cursory exam.

“You two’ll make it. Don’t worry.” He glanced at Cal.

“You can stay the night unless we need the bed for someone worse off.” Then he was gone to tend to a man screaming on the other side of the tent.

Cal sat up to yank off his boots. “Stop me if you’ve heard this one. There once was a man from Nantucket.”

Jim smiled—a real smile despite his swollen face. “Thanks for staying with me, Cal.”

“You say that now, but just wait until you hear the rest of this joke. You’ll be begging to get rid of me.”

“Been trying to shake you for ages now, but you’re pretty stubborn.”