Page 43 of Semper Fi

“I thought you Guadalcanal boys were being rotated home.” The replacement hurried to keep up with Cal, Jim, and Sully.

“What, and leave all this?” Cal waved his hand to take in Pavuvu, which honestly did seem luxurious after the death and utter desolation of Peleliu. It was safe, at least, and there were some comforts. With the sun setting, it was almost pretty. “Nah.”

“Bunch of first battalion went,” Sully muttered. “But they couldn’t send us all. Someone’s gotta teach you new boys the ropes.”

In another life, Cal would have laughed at the idea of little Sully, still squeaky-voiced and skinny, being one of the old breed. But he was a veteran now, his sunken, sometimes-vacant eyes telling the story. They’d barely made it through Peleliu, and for what?

“Sergeant, what was it like on Guadalcanal? I read all about it in the papers. I couldn’t wait until I was old enough to join up.”

It took Cal a moment to realize the replacement was talking to him. “Well, we won. So it was fine.”

The replacement chattered until Cal sent him on an errand, and Sully sauntered off with a nod. Cal lit a cigarette and exhaled the sweet smoke, gazing at the pink sky as more replacements ambled by.

“They’re so young.” Jim watched them go. “They don’t know yet.”

“They will soon enough. ”

Sighing, Jim leaned against a palm tree. “Hope Joe’s making out all right at home. Wonder what it’s like, going back after all this. Might as well be the moon, it feels so far away.”

“I could talk to Captain Brown. You’re overdue. You and Sully both.”

“And you’re not? Besides, I heard you already talked to the captain.”

Cal brushed it off with a smile. “I’m a sergeant now, Jim. I’m practically planning this thing with Patton these days.”

Jim regarded him evenly. “They were going to send you home, weren’t they? You’ve fought three campaigns.”

“So have you.”

“I was in the hospital for most of Cape Gloucester. So was Sully. But you weren’t. I heard you fought to stay. Insisted on it.”

Part of Cal had wanted to take the ticket home so desperately, hoping that the war would end before he had to return. For a terrible moment, he’d wanted to go and never look back. But the thought of returning to New York while Jim was still in hell was unimaginable.

The shame that he’d even considered it prickled his skin. He kicked at a stone. “Figured someone had to stick around to keep you and Sully out of trouble. Especially you.”

Jim’s lips twitched. “Yeah, I’m a real ne’er-do-well.”

“A menace. They need me to keep you in line.”

“Good thing you’re on the job, Sergeant Cunningham.”

Cal nudged Jim’s shoulder. “Don’t you call me that.”

“Why not? You deserve it, Cal.”

He snorted. “They threatened to send me to Officer Candidate School. Said I should have gone there in the first place.”

“They’re right.”

“Why, because I’m loaded and went to Princeton?”

“Because you’re a leader. You’re the one who got us through Peleliu. Kept our spirits up. We all looked to you.”

Despite himself, Cal basked in Jim’s praise. “You know they only promoted me because most of the NCOs are dead, and they can only ship over so many from the States.”

“Even so, you deserve it.” Jim gazed at him intently. “We had a hell of a time on Peleliu, Cal. But you didn’t let us give up. So don’t be hard on yourself.”

He nodded, trying not to smile too widely. “All right.”

A grizzled Marine sauntered by, puffing on a cigarette. “You guys hear the reports from Iwo Jima? They’re in tough.”

Cal said, “Sounds like Peleliu all over again.”

The Marine grunted. “Ain’t that the truth. But we’ll be moving out soon enough ourselves with all this training we’re doing. They’ve got another battle planned for us, that’s for sure. Another one of these fucking islands. There’s a million of ’em.”

Puffing on his cigarette, Cal tried not to think about it. He and Jim watched the sun dip below the horizon and slapped at the mosquitoes as they buzzed to life.

When they returned to their tent, the mail was being delivered.

Each man with a letter from home read it eagerly while the others asked what the notes said.

There was nothing for Cal, which was expected.

He’d received a perfunctory Christmas card from his parents, and likely wouldn’t hear from them again until the next December.

A land crab scuttled by, and he smashed it with his bayonet. “Damn things won’t get the hint.”

But Jim didn’t reply. He sat on his cot, his eyes roving over neat script that Cal knew from a glance was Ann’s. He swallowed down his unfair resentment and spoke up. “How are things at Clover Grove, Jim?”

His expression blank, Jim didn’t answer as he folded the letter neatly and stowed it back in its envelope. Cal sat beside Jim and gave him a nudge. “Everything okay?”

“My father died.” Jim’s voice was flat.

That caught everyone’s attention, and the chattering in the tent stopped. Cal gave Sully a look, and Sully gestured to the others.

“It’s almost chowtime. Let’s get a good spot in line.”

When he and Jim were alone, Cal murmured, “I’m sorry. ”

Jim nodded, his throat working. “It shouldn’t be a shock. He’s been sick. First he broke his hip, and then his heart started to give out. You know how it is.”

“Still is a shock though, huh?” He rubbed Jim’s back.

“Yeah. Silly, isn’t it?”

“Not at all.”

Jim swallowed thickly. “He was a good man. Had a good life. He was the best father I could have asked for. When my mother passed, he took on so much. I was such a burden.”

“You were no such thing, and he’d tell you the same.”

Tears glistened in Jim’s eyes. “I wish I could have been there with him.”

“He understood you had to do your duty. He was proud of you.”

A sob escaped Jim’s lips, and he hung his head.

Cal pulled him closer, murmuring to him as Jim slumped against his shoulder.

He let Jim cry, and when there was nothing left he urged him back onto the cot and pulled the blanket over him.

Jim was asleep in minutes, his breath still hitching.

Cal skipped dinner and watched over him, ready in case Jim woke again.

As Cal drifted off to sleep later, he said a silent prayer to any deity listening that no matter what horrors they had to face in their next blitz, Jim would make it home in one piece.

1948

Leaning against the paddock fence, Cal watched the last wall go up on the cider house with a deep sense of satisfaction.

They’d decided to situate it near the top of the rise, but far enough away from the house that any noise wouldn’t be heard.

His cousin had come through with the press in only a month, and Cal had made sure the extension on the electricity line had been finished in time.

Of course, when you had enough money, miracles were infinitely possible .

“Look at this, Uncle Cal!”

Cal turned and watched Sophie trot around the paddock on her horse, Trixie. “You’re a pro. Make sure you hang on tight.”

She rolled her eyes artfully. “I’m not a baby.”

“You should still hang on tight no matter how grown-up you get.”

Sophie giggled and continued prancing around.

Cal glanced back at the cider house to watch the progress.

They were building it around the press after laying the foundation and putting on the floorboards.

One side would slide all the way open if they ever needed to replace the machinery, and storage for the fermenting barrels had been built into the ground to keep them cool all year.

As the wall went up, Cal squinted at it, deciding it looked decidedly upside down. Sighing, he headed over, muttering, “If you want something done right…”

The workmen were heaving the wall back down when Sophie’s scream pierced the air.

Wheeling around, Cal saw Trixie sidestepping in the paddock, her nostrils flaring.

Cal was moving already, legs pumping as he raced across the grass.

He vaulted the paddock fence and almost landed on Sophie where she was crumpled on the ground.

He thought his heart might beat right out of his chest as he crawled to her. “Sophie!”

Screaming, she clutched at her left arm, tears streaming down her cheeks. “It hurts!”

Relieved she was still breathing and talking, Cal glanced up as Mrs. O’Brien appeared. “I think it might be dislocated.”

“Oh dear. You’d best drive her to the hospital in Rhinebeck. I’ll get one of the workers to fetch Jim from the orchard. He can meet you there.”

Mrs. O’Brien hurried off, and Cal lifted Sophie as gently as he could. “Shh. It’s all right. You’re going to be all right.”

She clung to him, whimpering with her face pressed to his neck as he carried her to the Cadillac and eased her down onto the back seat.

He drove quickly, careful of any potholes in the road.

The whole time he kept up a monologue. “They’ll fix you up lickety split, don’t worry.

When I was a kid I was in the hospital every other week.

You’ll be right as rain, I promise. Everything’s okay, Sophie. ”

The admitting nurse assumed Cal was Sophie’s father, and he didn’t disabuse her of the notion. After Sophie was settled on a bed in the emergency room, Cal sat and took her good hand in his. “It’s okay, honey.”

She clung to him, blinking away tears. “I’m sorry, Uncle Cal.”

“It was an accident.” He brushed her hair back from her forehead.

The doctor arrived a minute later and examined Sophie gently. “The shoulder’s dislocated. We’ll have to reduce it. Don’t worry—we’ll give her something for the pain first.”

Cal nodded and hoped Jim wouldn’t be long.

He still hadn’t arrived by the time they forced Sophie’s shoulder back into its socket, and Cal held her still, wishing it was him as she screamed in agony. Then it was done, and they bound her arm in a sling.

“You’ll have to follow up with your doctor to ensure it’s setting properly. She’s young, and it should heal quickly.” The doctor signed off on the chart and was gone, his lab coat fluttering behind him.