A Song For Lisa (20 page)

Two months after
Christmas, 1950.

The army had approved Jonathon’s release from the hospital
so that he could take up residence at the house they had leased for him near
the university. The doctors believed that he was strong enough to handle the
teaching assignment and administrative duties associated with the post. The New
Hampshire ROTC contingent was composed of two lieutenants and three sergeants,
all combat veterans. Jonathon would continue his therapy with the mechanical
arm, even though he had passed all the requirements for the army and the State
of New Hampshire for his driving permit.

The first day on the job, he drove to the campus in a Ford
army sedan issued to the ROTC unit. He met Lisa walking from her apartment to
the campus and stopped to give her a lift. He was all smiles. “Is it proper
protocol for a new male faculty member to give a lady faculty member a ride, or
is it taboo?” He leaned across the seat to open the door for her.

“You look great, Jon. I believe work will be good for you,”
she squeezed his hand. “In regards to conduct on campus, all kidding aside, it
might be best if we avoid hugs and kisses in public, at least for awhile. What
do you think?”

“You’re correct, Lisa. It would be more professional and the
students don’t need any more gossip material. I’m sure that many will, in time,
figure out that we have something going between us. My love for you is not easy
to hide.”

“I love you too, Jonathon. I’m so proud of you I could bust,
but let’s keep it our secret. It’ll be fun and kind of clandestine,” she
giggled softly. “You could drop me off at the administration building. By the
way, there’s a faculty meeting this afternoon. I expect it’s to introduce you
to the clan, so be prepared for a thorough inspection.” She pointed to the
administration building known as “T” Hall. “I’ll see you this afternoon. Thanks
for the ride, good luck, soldier.”

Jonathon checked in at the ROTC offices to introduce himself
to the staff. The secretary assigned to the unit by the University told him
that Sergeant Clymer was in the conference room grading papers. Jonathon walked
in on him.

“Good day, Sergeant Clymer. I’m Colonel Wright.”

The sergeant came to attention when he heard Jonathon speak.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you come in, Colonel. Welcome to the campus. I hope
you like what we’ve been doing here.”

“Please, stand easy, Sergeant. I’m simply familiarizing
myself with the layout. I look forward to working with you and the others. I
have much to learn, so please, if you see that I’m stepping out of line and
beginning to make an ass of myself, I beg of you to confront me directly and
promptly. If you do that with honest convictions, you will have earned my
sincere gratitude. I don’t like or tolerate ‘yes’ men.”

Sergeant Clymer checked the ribbons Jonathon wore. “That
Medal of Honor ribbon has already won my respect, sir.”

Jonathon noted the Combat Infantryman Badge the Sergeant
wore. “That CIB you wear, Sergeant, make us part of a select fraternity. I’ll
be proud to work with you.”

“Do you want me to show you around, Colonel?”

“Thanks, but I’ll manage,” replied Jonathon. “By the way,
Sergeant. I would like your advice on how we should conduct ourselves in
uniform on campus, especially in basic military courtesy.”

“Well, sir, I’ve always thought of it this way. Around
campus, the students watch our every move. I think we should put our best foot
forward. A reasonable amount of spit and polish in how we present ourselves
never does any harm. Proper and respectful salutes between officers and
enlisted men is a must. The students have a tendency to look upon us as role
models and they can learn much in the way we interact. May I speak freely and
unofficially, sir?”

“Please do.”

“Over the past twenty years I’ve been in the army, I’ve
served under some of the finest officers that ever lived. I’ve also served
under some of the most pompous assholes that ever walked. In my opinion,
campuses are no place for the latter category of officer. Another thing, sir,
in front of students in or out of the classroom, I would resent it if you
looked down on me as an inferior. I’m a subordinate yes, but I’m good at my
job. Some officers I’ve served with always belittle enlisted men in order to
make them look more important. Am I making myself clear, sir?”

Jonathon appraised the sturdy plain-speaking professional
soldier standing in front of him and smiled. He was the embodiment of the
American soldier that Jonathon had come to love and respect. “I read you loud
and clear, Sergeant Clymer, and I agree with every word. I’m glad we had this
conversation. The army functions as a team organization. Every part of the
organization is important for the whole to work. That implies that respect
comes from the top down. If you ever detect that I have violated that code of
respect, I’ll appreciate your bringing it to my attention. Have a good day,
Sergeant.”

“And you too, sir.”

Jonathon left the office and continued to tour around the
campus and streets close to the university. The Commons building housed the
cafeteria where he stopped and went through the line selecting macaroni and
cheese, a fruit cup, and a glass of milk. Surveying the dining area for an
empty table, he took one near the windows overlooking a terrace facing south.
It gave him an opportunity to observe the flow of students, staff, and faculty
as they entered and left the cafeteria. He was impressed with the maturity of
the seasoned veterans going to school under the G.I. Bill of Rights. They
displayed an intensity of purpose that was visibly lacking in the younger
non-veteran student body. He had to admit that the horrors of combat matured a
person beyond their years.

Two women about Jonathon’s age scanned the dining hall for a
seat and spotted him sitting alone. They approached the table and casually
asked if he would mind sharing the table with them.

“Please, sit down,” Jonathon said, standing to greet them.
“I’m Colonel Wright, the new ROTC commander. This is my first day on the job.”

“I’m Alice Raney. I teach English literature. This is Grace
Mellon our language specialist.”

“I’m glad to meet you.” The two ladies were studies in
contrast. Miss Mellon had black hair and was slightly overweight. She smiled a
lot and seemed content to let the more outspoken Alice Raney dominate the
conversation. Alice Raney was tall, slender and showy with blonde hair and a
confident air. There was a boldness about her that made Jonathon uncomfortable.

“How nice it is that we had a chance to meet, Colonel,” Miss
Raney said, eyeing his ribbons. She wore a lot of makeup and looked as if she
belonged on a stage with models instead of a classroom filled with students.
“Is the rumor true going around the campus that you’re a Medal of Honor
winner?”

“I don’t know where the rumor came from,” Jonathon replied,
eating his meal. “To answer your question, Miss Raney, yes, I do wear the Medal
of Honor for action in Manila, but I wear it as a symbol for those who
sacrificed and suffered and were never honored.”

Miss Mellon noted his CIB. “My brother earned one of those
badges with the long Kentucky rifle. He was more proud of that than of any other
ribbon or medal.”

“Your brother thinks the same as I, Miss Mellon.” Jonathon
finished his lunch and excused himself. “It’s been nice meeting you two. I
understand there’s a faculty meeting this afternoon, maybe I’ll see you there.”

“Yes, we’ll be there,” said Miss Raney.

Miss Mellon continued to smile at him. “It’s good that the
army has filled the post that’s been open for so long.”

Jonathon chuckled to himself as he left the cafeteria. A
poster on a bulletin next to the entrance caught his eye:

Annual
Spring Concert

The
New Hampshire Symphony Orchestra

March
15, 1951

Featuring
The Internationally Acclaimed Violinist From Japan

Horio
Taniguchi

He read the poster and smiled, thinking how modest it was of
Lisa to not be listed. The featured performer Horio Taniguchi, quickened his
pulse and started him asking questions to himself. Did Taniguchi know about
Lisa? Thinking back to his visit with Taniguchi, he was certain that he never
declared her name, and the letter she had asked him to send was signed “Madame
X.” Was it a coincidence? He was unsure! Lisa had mentioned the concert to him
several times and even became excited about the chance to have a famous
violinist visit New Hampshire. Little did he dream that it could be Mister
Taniguchi!

Should he alert Lisa? His first instinct was that she had a
right to know. If he was to tell her before the performance, it might have an
adverse affect on her ability to perform and that would have been awkward to
explain to the rest of the musicians in the orchestra. He had mailed Lisa’s
letter to Taniguchi and so far, there was no follow-up correspondence. He rode
around the area for a long time troubled by the knowledge he had kept from
Lisa.

Checking his watch, Jonathon drove to the building where the
faculty meeting was scheduled to take place. He had prepared a short speech to
deliver in case he was asked to make a statement. He had planned to review it
that afternoon, but his head and heart were too busily focused elsewhere.

Most of the faculty were in the auditorium. He walked down
the center of the aisle to the front row of seats where the president of the
university had requested that he position himself. He scanned the seats on both
sides trying to locate where Lisa was sitting, but did not see her.

The president made a few remarks to the gathered audience
pertaining to some changes in the curriculum and about summer school
itineraries. Then he announced two appointments to the faculty; a forestry
professor named Doctor Bert Hunt, and Army Colonel Jonathon Wright. “It gives
me great pleasure to announce that the university is graced by the presence of
an army officer who has been awarded the Medal of Honor. Ladies and gentlemen,
how about a warm welcome to Colonel Jonathon Wright.” The President waved his
arm towards Jonathon and the audience rose as one to welcome him.

Jonathon walked to the podium to shake hands with the
president and the dean of the College of Liberal Arts. Using that opportunity
to locate Lisa, he saw her in the back row directly in front of the podium.
Raising both arms to the audience, Jonathon wanted them to see the mechanical
arm and pair of tongs, so that they would know who and what he was. Several
members of the faculty were surprised that such an injured man was allowed to
continue in the Army.

“Mr. President, deans of the different colleges, faculty,
and staff members. Your warm welcome is appreciated. I’m humbled to become a
part of the faculty of the University I graduated from in 1941. This is my
first post at an institution of higher learning. The main job of a soldier is
to defend our nation against all enemies and to teach others, the young men and
women, who shoulder that burden with their blood. I’m open to any suggestions
or criticisms you may have about what I do in the classroom and how my
performance might be improved or altered. Constructive criticism of ideas,
tactics, doctrine, etc. is one of the ways our army improves its performance,
so don’t be afraid to speak up. Change is a constant process with soldiers.
After I graduated from the university in 1941, I went to the Pacific theater of
operations where I stayed for the duration of the war. I was wounded again in
Korea eight months ago. I already feel that I’ve come home for good. Thank you
for allowing me to become a part of the faculty as a soldier.”

The forestry professor made a few remarks after Jonathon sat
down and the President reclaimed the podium. “Before we adjourn this
get-together, I want to inform you about a very special occasion that is coming
up. You’ve probably already seen the posters around campus about our recently
established New Hampshire Symphony Orchestra concert. I’ve been impressed by
the hard work of our very own Miss Lisa Carter, who has been deeply involved in
making it all possible. Stand up Miss Carter wherever you are.” Lisa stood up
and waved her hand. “I just wanted to say thank you on behalf of the university
and the people of the state for your fine work. It is enriching the lives of
each and every one of us. Thank you.”

Minutes later, Jonathon was inundated by people wishing him
well in his new post. They were sincere and heartfelt. It was comforting to be
so warmly received. Slowly, he was able to make some headway to the back of the
auditorium to Lisa. She was all smiles and extended her hand to shake with him.
“You’ve made a successful beginning, Colonel.” She squeezed his hand. He
returned the pressure and grinned.

The auditorium was almost empty except for Alice Raney, who
was waiting for a chance to speak to Jonathon. “So you’re an alumnus, Colonel,
we meet again.” she said boldly.

Lisa knew the English instructor and noted her attempt at
familiarity with Jonathon. At first it amused her until she heard the coy and
provocative Miss Raney invite him to her place for dinner some evening at his
convenience.

Jonathon was unprepared for such an invitation and had no
intention of starting his debut at the college accepting invitations from
strangers. “Thank you, Miss Raney. For now, I’ve got my hands full with my new
quarters and my daughter. I’m also committed to therapy sessions each week, so
I’ll have little time for socializing, but thanks for asking.”

Miss Raney picked up on the list of excuses and left feeling
disappointed. Lisa heard the exchange between them and walked silently to the
parking lot with him. “You handled that situation beautifully. She has a
reputation around the campus, so tread softly, if you know what I mean.”