Page 41 of Semper Fi

A n explosion boomed across the water, the sound washing over them with a growl as their amtrac approached land.

The men huddled together in the floating tank, taking turns peeking at the cloud of smoke hanging over Peleliu.

The amtrac gave more shelter than the Higgins Boats, for which Jim was grateful.

“It don’t look very big,” Sully said, speaking loudly over the roar of another bomb. Overhead, American planes soared, and warships dotted the ocean behind.

“No, it doesn’t.” Pushing his helmet out of his eyes, Jim smiled. “Remember what the lieutenant told us on Pavuvu before we left. This one should all be over in a couple of days.”

“Looks like we’ve already shelled the shit out of it. Can’t imagine there are many Japs left on that miserable rock,” Pete added.

The air snapped with the reverberations of more explosions, and flames flickered in the smoke. Then, as the wave of landing vehicles approached shore, the barrage ceased, and there was a sudden, eerie silence.

Cal was pressed up behind Jim, and he leaned in, his breath tickling Jim’s neck.

“Here we go. Keep your head down.”

“You too. ”

If Cal said anything else, it was lost in the mortar and artillery that rained down from the island. Their amtrac plowed on, the smell of burning metal mixing with the salt air. As they lurched to shore, the men leaped over the side.

Jim took in the sight of the beach, already a graveyard of smoldering amtracs and bloodied and charred men.

The sand was littered with holes, and in many Jim could spot the helmets of Marines taking cover from the barrage of mortars and machine gun fire coming from the headland, which appeared carved out of coral.

Praying he wouldn’t hit any unexploded mortars, Jim burrowed into the sand. They were pinned down and had to take out the enemy firing from the headland or they’d never make it across the beach. He glanced about for Cal, breathing in relief as he spotted him digging into his own hole.

The ground shook, and Jim spat sand from his mouth. Sweat dripped into his eyes. He blinked, hoping the Marine tank rumbling out from the trees wasn’t a figment of his imagination. He heard Pete’s shout, urging on the tank as it took aim at the coral fortress.

Jim followed the direction of Pete’s voice and saw him, his arm raised as he cheered on the tank. Then there was a burst of sound and fire, and Pete disintegrated into gore in a plume of acrid smoke that burned Jim’s nostrils. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came.

Pete was gone.

The tank fired into the hole through which the Japs had been firing, yet the men inside disappeared one by one, jumping out of sight. Somehow they escaped, as if by some sleight of hand—rabbits in a magician’s hat.

When the Japanese firing was silenced, Jim and the others abandoned their holes, hurrying into the scrub beyond the beach and sliding into a crater left by a mighty blast in the dry earth.

Sully, Joe, and others joined him, and Jim looked back for Cal.

For a minute, there was no sign, and Jim craned his neck as his pulse raced.

Cal had been fine, but then again so had Pete right up until the last moment.

Jim squeezed his eyes shut as if he could block out the memory. Counting under his breath, he waited. The seconds were like hours. Another Marine scurried toward them, but Jim knew from a glance that it wasn’t Cal. “Ninety-three, ninety-four…” he muttered.

“He’s coming, Johnny.” Big Joe thumped on Jim’s back, his preferred method of reassurance.

Just as Jim scrambled to his feet to find him, Cal jogged into sight and dropped into the crater. Jim took a shuddering breath, and his body relaxed just a bit. Around Cal’s neck swung four extra canteens. He ducked his head and pulled them free.

“Figured we could use all the water we can get from the looks of this place.”

They all drank, passing the extra canteens around and saving their own water for later. The sun scorched them, and Sully huddled beneath his helmet, his skin already reddening. He grumbled, “Never thought I’d miss the fuckin’ jungle, but I’m sure glad we ain’t gonna be here long.”

They were close to the airstrip that made the island valuable, and in the distance, rocky outcroppings rose above the flat landscape. “Japs must be up there,” Jim noted.

Joe nodded. “Yep. Should be plenty of fun getting across that airstrip. Not too many places to hide.”

They all murmured their agreement.

“Hey, where’s Pistol?” Sully gazed around, pushing up his helmet.

“Maybe he found another crater,” Cal said, although he didn’t sound convinced.

Images of Pete’s last moments played out in Jim’s mind, the smell of singed flesh making his mouth water as his stomach lurched. He hadn’t eaten since they were on the transport ship, and he inhaled deeply through his nose, not wanting to lose what little he had in his stomach. “No.”

Cal’s hand was warm on his arm. “Jim?”

“He’s not coming.” Jim cleared his parched throat. “He got it on the beach.”

“Pistol got it?” Sully sounded incredulous. “But…ain’t nobody who could take down the Pistol. He’s tough as nails.”

“Not tougher than a mortar,” someone said. Jim didn’t know him.

Joe swore. “Fucking Nip bastards.”

They sat in silence under the blazing sun. What more was there to say? Before long, the lieutenant was barking commands. “Stovepipe boys, your target is the enemy bunkhouse across the airstrip. Move out!”

Soon they found out how thin the cover really was, and how easily the Japs could take them out. Machine gun fire burst endlessly, shells falling as the Marines raced across the airstrip, their equipment an albatross in the unbearable heat.

“Gonna kill us all, aren’t they?” Sully winced as they dove into another crater as a shell exploded nearby. “We’re sitting ducks here.”

Then another Marine skidded into the crater, a radio man this time. “Got any water?”

Jim had drained his canteen already, and he and the others shook their heads.

The radio man swore. “There’s no water on this fucking island so they sent some over from the ships in old gas drums. Too bad they didn’t rinse them out first. There’s men down all over the place, sick as dogs. Like we don’t have enough problems with these Jap fuckers in their tunnels.”

“Tunnels?” Cal asked, his face grim.

“Yeah, I heard they got this whole island set up with tunnels and caves and hidey-holes while we’re running around here in the open like it’s goddamn target practice.”

Jim’s stomach churned anew. “I thought this one was supposed to be easy.”

The radio man barked out a laugh. “Story of our fuckin’ lives.”

194 8

The rooster’s crowing echoed in the dawn, and Jim rolled onto his back. He hadn’t slept a wink, his mind whirling as he imagined the orchard’s books and tried to calculate the damage the hailstorm had done to the potential profits.

Of course, the fact that Cal was under his roof again, just down the hall, didn’t help to still Jim’s restless mind.

He’d hoped that after not seeing Cal for more than two months the fever for him would have dimmed.

That perhaps Jim’s feelings could return to the proper friendship they’d shared instead of the immoral attraction that had burned right through him.

Often during the long summer, Jim’s thoughts had gone to Cal, and when Jim’s traitorous body responded, he’d refused to give in.

He hadn’t touched himself even once, knowing the fantasies his mind unspooled would only make Cal’s absence harder to bear.

And of course it was a sin no matter how right it felt.

But now his body hummed. The thought of Cal so close—oh, the things they could do together; the joy and release he would find in Cal’s arms—was intoxicating. He knew it was wrong, but he yearned for it all the same.

Rubbing a hand over his eyes, Jim rolled out of bed and crept to the bathroom. He needed to focus and get a hold of himself. He splashed water on his face and peered into the mirror in the cool morning light. What kind of man would think to do such things when it put his children at risk?

Nothing had changed. Homosexuality was a crime in the eyes of the law and the Lord. Jim stared at his own reflection. How could he even consider it again? He had to close the door on this shameful part of himself. Cal would go to London, and it would all be for the best.

Footsteps creaked in the hallway, and he opened the door to find Sophie in her nightdress by the guest room. Jim whispered, “Shh. Come away from there.”

She did as she was told, wiping sleep from her eyes. “Who’s in there?”

“Uncle Cal.”

Her face lit up and her voice rose. “Uncle Cal?”

“Shh. Yes. He arrived last night. You were already in bed.”

“I knew he’d come back!”

“He’s not staying, sweetie. He has to drive back to the city this morning. He just…happened to be in the area for business.”

“What kind of business? Why can’t he stay? I want him to stay.”

“Go do your chores, and we’ll talk about it later. Mabel’s waiting.”

“But—”

Jim gave her a look. “ Now. ”

Grumbling, she hurried off, and Jim sighed. He hated lying to her. At least Adam wasn’t old enough to really understand or ask questions.

It was almost time for Sophie to leave for school when Cal came down wearing his trousers and one of Jim’s dressier shirts. She raced over and flung her arms around him. “Uncle Cal!”

Adam clung to Cal’s legs, and Jim could see the emotion in Cal’s face before he painted on one of his big smiles.

“If it isn’t Sophie and Adam Bennett. I thought I might find you two here. Have you been good for your daddy?”

They nodded in unison, and Sophie said, “We’re always good, Uncle Cal.”

Jim had to laugh at that, and soon they were all laughing. The happiness glowing in Jim’s chest was so bright he had to turn away. He cleared his throat. “Sophie, you’d better go or you’ll miss the bus.”

“Uncle Cal, will you be here when I get back?”