Circles in the Sand (9 page)

“You don’t think so do ya’ ? Not who ya’ know, but who ya’ blow?”

“Naw. If he’s queer. He’da been kicked out, instead of promoted.”

“Maybe so, but I don’t want to share a room with him.”

“Why? You think if he’s a fairy, he might cast a spell on you? Make you one too?”

The next day, out at Quonset number one, Clint put Corporal Jewel in charge of writing an inventory of  the material he brought, and storing it in some semblance of order. Except for some surveyor’s equipment, hammers, saws, pliers, shovels and large buckets of long nails appeared to be the  most valuable items. Lance picked up the instruments and asked, “Anyone know how to do any surveying?”

No one did. Five, five-gallon pails of white wash, along with several miscellaneous items such as rope, tape, work gloves, pencils, paper, large paint brushes and tape measures completed their treasure. “This is still pretty bare bones for the job we’re gonna have to do.” Lance said. “As far as I know, the towers we gotta build probably going to have their supports set in the ground. Quite a job with shovels. We need some posthole diggers at least.”

Clint showed up with a line man from Valley Power. That individual scratched his head and said, “No problem bringing electricity back into this hut. Where else you gonna need it?”

“To both of the other Quonsets, and eventually somewhere out near that circular track. Air Force plans to install some aircraft turrets out there, but I don’t know their electrical requirements now. In fact, chances are, they’ll probably come with their own power.”

“We’ll worry about that later. I expect we can have you set up in this hut with in about two weeks.”

“Two weeks? You guys have such a backlog of work?”

“Not up to me. Scheduling shop arranges that. You might want to give them a call. Good luck.”

“Hey, do us a favor. Mention to scheduling there’s a war going…and we’re part of the effort. We really need their help.”

The power man smiled as  he drove off. Clint looked around. “We can’t do anything until I figure out where those four bomb targets are going to be. The RADAR target has to set just off to the side of the center of north road, so that’s easy to place. Not having any markers other than those we plant, make it pretty awkward to site the other four. Anybody got any ideas?”

No one did. “Okay. I’ve got a half-assed idea. We’ll try it anyway. Be easier if we had the Jeep, but Elsas took it to Ft. Peck. I don’t think that carry-all will be much use off-road.

“Right now I’m going to work with target area one, the nearest one, to see if my method will work.” He explained what he wanted Lance to do with the weapons carrier. “That should put you close to where you and I went before. Drop Kline and Alcocke to remain right there. From the south road center marker, Jewel and I will drive back east three miles. We’ll start north at that point as far as we dare in the carry-all. If we don’t meet up, assume we can’t make it, you come back and follow our tracks. One way or another, we should come close to where the other two are waiting.  Any questions?”

Alcocke said, “What if you don’t find us again? Do we camp out in the sand?”

“Don’t sweat it. We’ll find you. Take plenty of water along.”

At the three mile mark, Clint looked over the countryside he’d have to cross with the carry-all and decided against it. When Lance eventually showed up, Clint told Jewel to return to the hut with the carry-all.  Clint joined Lance and headed north. Three miles farther, there was no sign of the airmen.

“Geez, I didn’t think we’d be so far off we couldn’t see them. Did you tell them to be standing up?”

“Well hell. I assumed they had sense enough to do that.”

Generally flat, the countryside had enough in the way of swales and small rises to conceal something as small as a man over the distance of half a mile. “No, buddy, never  assume anything. Breaking that word down, it makes an ass out of you, and an ass out of me. If they decided  to sit down, they’ll be hard to see. Go ahead and plant a stake here. We can adjust our position when we find them.”

Clint studied  the horizon with field glasses. “I’m afraid sitting these targets is going to involve some guess and by-gosh. Here, take a look, maybe you can see them.”

Lance stood and peered around through the field glasses. He couldn’t see anything until he caught sight of some dust raised just northeast of their location. “Hey! I’ll be damned. I see them…and they’re running this way.”

“Huh? What the hell? I told them after you dropped them off not to leave.”

“Well, they’re sure as hell moving now.”

“Balls. Well lets go find out what the hell is going on.” Clint started the vehicle and headed to a point south of where the men were running. The runners spotted them and veered their course toward the vehicle. Clint stopped in front of them and said, “Where the hell do you think you’re going? You were told to stay where you were dropped!”

Trying to catch his breath, Kline said, “Yeah, but you didn’t warn us about any hostile Indians? He threatened to scalp us!”

“Huh? What hostile Indians. Are you guys nuts? I outta have you court-martialed…for leaving your post!”

Alcocke recovered his breath. “Yeah, well you weren’t there. We’d just pounded a stake in the ground when this guy shows up. He’s wearing a coyote mask over his head and eyes, carrying a mean looking tomahawk. Says we’ve disturbed ancient burial grounds, and we’d better get  out of his sight.”

“Oh come off it. That’s some sorry excuse for leaving your post. What you guys been drinking?”

“Sarge, we ain’t kiddin’. That guy meant business. He swung that tomahawk like he wanted a piece of me.”

“Yeah, well just where did this mysterious Indian come from?”

Kline said, “I don’t know. Just all at once he was there. Like pounding that stake turned him up out of nowhere.”

Clint said, “What do you think, Lance?”

“They sure act like they’re scared…and running like they were in this heat…I dunno…Why don’t we back track their trail, and take a look around the stake.”

“Come on, git in. We’ll check out your hairy story. Your mysterious Indian ain’t gonna scare all of us.” The trail left by the running airmen stopped in a shallow swale. Their stake was not visible. “This were you  were?”

Glumly, the airmen looked around. “Could be.” Kline said. “So much of this range looks alike.”

Lance got out and looked around. “I think these are your foot prints all around. What was the Indian wearing on his feet.”

Alcocke said, “I didn’t notice…had my eyes on that tomahawk.”

Lance said, “The boot  prints from you two are obvious. I don’t see any other tracks. You guys sure you weren’t seeing a ghost? That he didn’t just appear out of clear air?”

“No way, Sarge. I could feel the air swish by from his tomahawk.” Kline said.

“I can’t believe you guys, but lets all get out and walk around here. See if we can find any foot prints coming into this swale, or walking away from it.”

Diligent searching didn’t turn up any evidence of a third party around the  site. “Well Indian or no, plant another stake, Kline. We’ll know where to come back to.”

Kline reluctantly held a stake while Alcocke pounded it in. Both continued to glance around. “Hey!” Kline shouted. “Watch what you’re doing with that maul!”

When they finished, no Indian had appeared. Clint said, “Looks to me like the two stakes are less than a quarter a mile apart. About half way between the two, we’ll plant  another stake. That’ll be the center of target number one.”

Back in town, Clint went to see Oliver McCune. Except for the sheriff’s rigid attitude, Clint would have gone to Radecker. Now he was reluctant to be any more involved with the sheriff than necessary. “Mister McCune, I reckon you know as much about this area as anyone. Are you familiar with the Indians around here?”

“You do know there’s a large reservation on the other side of the Possum? We don’t see too many around here. Most of their trading, buying, they do in towns over there. What do you want to know?”

“Ever hear of an Indian burial ground up north of here, in the old gunnery range?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t one. Indians used to move around a lot. Now most of the Sioux and Assiniboine occupy the Fort Peck reservation. I understand there’s also a small bunch from some other tribe, called the Coyote Clan. They may be the remnants of survivors… terrible small pox epidemics devastated many tribes in the past.”

“I’m mainly concerned about a burial ground. Don’t want to be messing with someone’s bones.” No use in mentioning the airmen’s story.

Lilith hovered behind Ollie while the men talked. She didn’t say anything, but after Ollie turned away, she followed Clint to the door. Tentatively she reached out to touch his back, but withdrew her hand, when, feeling her presence, Clint turned his head slightly. He kept on out the door.
I wonder what that’s all about?

The airmen leaving their post, and the reason, created a problem for Clint. Their story was unbelievable, yet their behavior seemed to bear it out, unless it was a grand hoax.
It had to be! Spooky Indians? C’mon!
To have them court-martialed, or even given an Article Fifteen, meant shipping them back to Grand Eclipse. With the amount of work that faced him, he couldn’t afford to lose any bodies. I’ll have to check with LC Jenner and see if, as commander, I don’t have Article Fifteen authority.

Elsas returned before supper time to say he was certain he could get the decon vehicle operational, “if I can scrounge a few more parts from the Army.” Clint said to keep at it. Then he took Elsas and Werner aside to discuss Alcocke and Kline. Elsas said, “That’s bullshit. Unbelievable. How’d they come up with a story like that?”

Lance said, “Sure…it does sound like baloney, but they arrived white faced and out of breath. If they were faking it, they sure did a good job.”

Clint said, “Yeah, and admittedly they were very nervous when putting the stake in a second time.”

“When you guys looked around, did you see any signs of a burial ground?”

“No.” Clint said. “Mainly we looked for tracks, or any sign of an Indian. Well, it’s decision time. I can’t afford to lose two bodies to action at Grand Eclipse. I’ll have a serious talk with those two, and let them off the hook. We need to keep an eye on them for any other peculiar behavior in the future.”

“Hey, Elsas, did you check out the WACs and the club over at Ft. Peck?” Lance asked.

“Yeah, I saw a couple of WAC Sergeants but not close enough to talk too. They have a combined enlisted club with a separate lounge for NCOs…a lot of civilians over there, not so many military. We can use their club if we are members of a club at our home base.”

“Sounds good.” Clint said.

When he saw Dorris after supper Clint said, “I haven’t seen any social activity around here other than Chet’s place, oh and I suppose the mysterious Boar Pen.”

“Well, I hope that remains a mystery to you.” She laughed. “No, apart from occasional church socials, there’s not much to do in West Layover. We have a  population of only about two hundred and forty. Glasgow is our teeming metropolis, all of four thousand or so souls…as many as eight thousand in the past.  I believe they often have dances over there on Saturday nights.”

“I’ve got to find some entertainment for our troops. Maybe between the club at Ft. Peck and Glasgow there’s enough to keep ‘em busy on weekends. ‘Course they might not be off on weekends for a while.”

“Clint, you sound like such a slave driver. Don’t you have any sympathy for those young kids? Weren’t you a young troop once?” She laughed.

“You’ve got a point. Just hope I can keep ‘em out of trouble. So what do you do for excitement, Dorris?”

“Well, between this place and Lorena, I don’t need any more.”

“I can’t believe that. Supposing you and I take in a dance over at Glasgow?”

Dorris blushed. She welcomed the invitation, which surprised her. She hemmed a bit and then said, “That does sound like fun. Yes I’d  be delighted to go to a dance with you.”

“Good. Between now and Saturday, I’ll find out what’s going on over there, and we’ll make it a date. We’ll even go first class…in my truck instead of that Jeep.”

“I’ll be ready.” Thinking about Clint’s truck with the camper on it, she wondered if she was doing the right thing.
Probably a bed in it. Was it his mobile trysting place? If he tries to seduce me, what will I do?
She couldn’t answer her own question.

The next day a two-and-a-half ton truck with Air Force markings stopped in front of the sheriff’s office. Tommy Kerns directed the occupants out to Quonset one. Seeing the truck pull up, the whole crew went out to meet it.

Looking at the Technical Sergeant driver, Clint said, “What do we have here, Buddy?”

The driver stepped down and stuck out his hand, “Deuce and a half, supplies and two bodies, Rodger Patton and that’s Ervin Hooper.”

Clint introduced them to everyone. “What’s your field?” he asked Patton.

“Construction, from civil engineers. Ervin here is a an admin clerk.”

“We’re sure glad to see both of you. With your back ground, I’m appointing you chief construction engineer. We can sure use you here. I’ve got half-assed  plans of what we have to do, but no one with any construction experience.”

“Corporal Hooper, I’m not sure what you do in admin, but, for sure, we have work for you.”

Kline mumbled, “You’ll be sorry…”

Looking at all the equipment and supplies in the back of the truck, Clint said, “Lance, take Jewel, Kline and Alcocke. Get Quonset two cleaned out. We need more storage room before we unload the truck. I’ll take Patton and Hooper back into town…get them squared away with a bunk.” Since Elsas and Priebe had gone back to Ft Peck in the Jeep, Clint took the carry-all. On the way he clued Patton in on the local situation. “We don’t have any lumber to build towers, so in the mean time I want to at least layout the target areas…If we can locate them.”

Once back at Quonset one, Clint laid out the site plan for Patton. “Looks simple enough, except there are no boundary markers on this piece of earth to correlate with these target locations.”