SOMEDAY SOON (34 page)

‘It’s gone very well tonight, Mr
Sharkey.’

Dick was startled by the voice from the
shadows. He turned around and in the half light he saw Colonel
Kensall leaning against the ship’s rail just a few yards away from
him. The American officer was also taking in the dawn alone.

‘We have done our best, Colonel. This vessel
will be ready to sail with the tide’

‘I must apologize if I sounded overbearing
last night,’ the colonel said. ‘It’s just that I feel a special
responsibility towards the men aboard this ship.’

‘No apology is required, Colonel. We both
have our jobs to do.’

The colonel moved from the rail and sat down
beside Dick.

‘My youngest son was a Navy flyer, Mr
Sharkey,’ he said sadly, staring down into the deck of the ship.
‘This war is over for him. He was an early casualty on Guadalcanal.
But the war won’t be over for the thousands of wounded men aboard
this vessel until she arrives safely home. And before she does she
must run a formidable gauntlet of enemy warships. The east coast of
Australia and the entire Pacific Ocean is a hazardous place for
shipping these days. Japanese submarines are sinking ships every
day, particularly unarmed transports. With no US hospital ships
available, the Army had no choice but to use the
George Washington.
And as a transport
she can’t expect a hospital ship’s immunity from
attack.’

‘I understand your concerns, Colonel,’ Dick
said reassuringly. ‘And I’m so sorry about your son. I know how you
must feel. I have a young son myself. We expect he will see action
in New Guinea soon.’

The colonel rose to his feet. ‘Perhaps you
would like to join me below for some breakfast, Mr Sharkey. I think
we could both use some bacon and eggs and coffee. ’

‘Thank you, but I’ll be right, Colonel.’

‘But I insist, Mr Sharkey.’ The colonel
grinned. ‘And even on an American vessel, I’m sure we can rustle
you up a nice pot of tea. Come on, there’s a medical officers
canteen not far from here. I know a short cut through the
ship.’

The colonel led the way down the deck and
past several armed Marines at a doorway guarding access to one of
the many sections of the ship that was out of bounds to everyone
but authorized military personnel. Beyond the doorway a wide steel
stairwell led down into a huge hold, which like others on the ship
had been converted into a self-contained, multi-level, fully
sufficient hospital. As Dick followed Kensall through one cavernous
infirmary after another he was amazed at what he saw. Army doctors,
nurses and medical aides were scurrying about attending to the
needs of wounded men lying in seemingly endless rows of beds. Many
of the casualties were bandaged so heavily Dick couldn’t even see
their faces. Others were in the process of having bandages and
dressings changed and it was plain to see that a high percentage of
the casualties had undergone major surgery, even the removal of
limbs.

Some of the wounded lay perfectly
still, alone in a world of their own, oblivious to everything going
on around them, staring into the steel ceiling above their beds.
Some moved a little beneath their crisp white sheets as Dick walked
by and their slight motions brought soft whimpers, or loud painful
groans. Others were unconscious. Dick thought how merciful it was
that at least some of the wounded were feeling no pain at all, and
for the moment were unaware of the wholesale suffering in the
bowels of the great ship. Not wanting to see any more, Dick took
his eyes off the wounded and stared straight ahead as he followed
the Colonel between the rows of beds and he was thankful when he
saw a doorway marked
‘MEDICAL OFFICERS MESS HALL’
over
the officer’s shoulder
.

Just as they passed the last of the wounded,
Dick was startled when a man suddenly sat bolt upright in his bed
and started shouting. A nurse and an orderly rushed to him. The
colonel and Dick looked on while the orderly restrained the
delirious man and a nurse sedated him with a needle. But before the
drug took effect the man continued shouting, screaming out words in
a foreign language. Then the drug took effect and the tirade ended
and the orderly lowered the man’s head back onto his pillow. Dick’s
eyes widened. The man’s dark, chiseled features somehow looked
familiar. Dick took a closer look and gasped. The man in the bed
was Dan.

CHAPTER
TWENTY-THREE

The captain of the
George Washington
had only just risen after a
short sleep when Colonel Kensall and Dick arrived at his cabin. Now
he stood in his underwear, shaving in front of his bathroom
mirror.

‘My orders are very explicit, Colonel.’ There
can be no exceptions to the embargo on civilian communications from
this ship or from the wharf. Security must be maintained. You know
as well as I do, loose lips sink ships.’

‘I understand that, Captain. But I believe Mr
Sharkey here may well be the only person who knows who this man in
the infirmary is. I’ve already spoken to the chief medical officer.
All the information he has is that this man was found in a Japanese
enclave on Guadalcanal. On top of the serious malnutrition he
suffered as a prisoner, he sustained severe shrapnel wounds in the
raid. Add to that his chronic malaria which was complicated by
blackwater fever right after our guys got him back from the Japs
and you’ll get an idea of how badly he needs help.’

‘Then what are you worrying about, Colonel.
He’s in the right place. My ship has been turned into one of the
biggest goddamn hospitals afloat.’ The captain walked from the
bathroom into the main cabin area. He wiped some excess shaving
cream from his face, then took a shirt from a closet and put it
on.

‘Look, Captain,’ Kensall said quickly. ‘This
man needs more than medical help. No-one in the Army knows who he
is or what unit he’s from. He hasn’t spoken a single word of
English since he was rescued.’

The captain paused as he buttoned up his
shirt. ‘I thought you said he was an American?’

‘He is. He’s an Indian. He’s been speaking in
the Navaho language. At first when our guys took him prisoner they
thought he was on the other side. Lucky for him there were Navaho
on Guadalcanal who heard him raving in his sleep. He’s American all
right, but that’s all anyone knows about him. Everything he says in
the Navaho language is gibberish.’

‘Wasn’t he wearing a dog-tag or
anything?’

‘No.’

‘No identifying clothing, no uniform?’

‘No, he was naked when they found him.’

‘And nobody from his own outfit recognized
him?’ The captain looked skeptical. ‘Hell, there can’t be many
Navaho in Marine units on Guadalcanal. Couldn’t anyone work out
which outfit he belonged to.’

‘They tried to. But then they figured from
his condition that the Japs must have had him a long time. And
because all the original Marines unit on Guadalcanal were relieved
by fresh troops back in December and January they reckoned his
outfit must have left without him. Anyway, Mr Sharkey here, says he
wasn’t a Marine at all. He says he’s a captain in the Army Air
Corps and that he was briefly based here in Brisbane last year. He
says his name is Dan Rivers and his family knows him well. He’s
afraid if the Army doesn’t know who he is, they won’t even be able
to send him home to his family when you get back to the
States.’

‘He’ll probably be well enough by then to
tell them himself.’

‘I told you,’ Kensall said quickly, ‘the
medical officer said his malaria is complicated by something called
blackwater fever which impairs the function of the kidneys. Right
now, only drugs and blood transfusions are keeping him alive. If
there’s a total kidney breakdown, it’s fatal. I think he should be
transferred to better facilities ashore.’

‘Then why don’t you, Colonel?’

‘Because I’m not a medical officer, Captain.
I don’t have the authority. And besides, the chief medical officer
said there are only so many beds available ashore. Facilities are
strained to the limit. He can’t send anymore men into town without
authorization from a hospital or a high-ranking officer who is
prepared to take full responsibility for him. And nobody’s going to
do that if they don’t even know who he is.’

The captain took a necktie from his closet,
slipped it under his collar and began tying the knot in front of a
dresser mirror. ‘So what good would your telephone call do, Mr
Sharkey,’ he said dismissively, ‘even if I let you make it?’

‘I want to tell my niece about Captain
Rivers.’ Dick said quickly. ‘She and Captain Rivers were very
close. She works for the senior American liaison officer at General
MacArthur’s headquarters.’ He took a fob-watch from his pocket and
checked the time. ‘She’ll be in the office in about an hour or so.
She may be able to do something to get Captain Rivers off this
ship. Once it leaves the dock it will be too late to help him.’

The captain turned to Kensall. ‘You know I’d
be breaking all the rules if I let this man use a telephone,
Colonel. Why are you getting involved in all this?’

‘Because Mr Sharkey told me that that poor
bastard down there in the infirmary, has fought in the Philippines,
Darwin, New Guinea, and Guadalcanal during the last fourteen
months. And if I didn’t lift a finger to help him, I’d find it hard
to live with myself.’ Kensall looked the captain directly in the
eye. ‘Wouldn’t you?’

The Captain looked somberly into the mirror
for a few moments and made a final adjustment to his necktie. ‘Very
well, Gentlemen. Just one call. There are phones hooked up in the
radio room. Meet me there in one hour.’

*

As always Gus Welenski was the first person
to arrive for work at the liaison office. When he pushed open the
door the phone was already ringing. It was just after 7.30 a.m. and
his head still hurt from a long drinking session with
non-commissioned officers at the American Club the night before.
But at least it was Saturday. Although most military staff at
headquarters followed General MacArthur’s example and worked seven
days a week, many non-essential staff and civilian employees had
weekends off. Welenski enjoyed the slower pace on Saturdays and he
enjoyed it even more when Major Hunter wasn’t around.

He picked up the persistent telephone. ‘Staff
Sergeant Welenski, Army Liaison.’

‘Sergeant, my name is
Dick
Sharkey,’ the caller said. ‘I’m Faith Brodie’s uncle. I need to
speak to Faith urgently. I’m working at the docks and I can’t
contact her at home because we’re not on the phone. Has she come in
to work yet?’

‘She won’t be in this weekend at all, Mr
Sharkey,’ Welenski replied. ‘She’s gone to Coolangatta. She went
down there last night. Didn’t you know?’

‘No, I didn’t. I’ve been working nights
lately and haven’t seen much of her. Perhaps I could speak with
Major Hunter, Sergeant? He knows who I am, we have met.’

‘I’m afraid the Major’s not in yet, Mr
Sharkey.’

There was silence at the end of the line. ‘Mr
Sharkey.… you still there?’

‘Yes, Sergeant, I’m still here.'

Welenski thought how dejected the caller’s
voice sounded. ‘Mr Sharkey,’ he said quickly, ‘look, I know Faith
well. Would you like me to try and get hold of her and have her
call you back?’

‘That’s not possible, Sergeant.’ There was
another pause on the line. ‘You see. I’m on a ship’s phone. I can
only make the one call for security reasons.’

‘Then is there a message I can give her if I
can reach her?

‘Yes. Would you tell her that Captain Dan
Rivers is alive. I’ve seen him aboard the vessel I’m working on.
He’s in a bad way and can’t communicate. Got something called
blackwater fever, a complication of malaria. They say it can be
fatal. He’s being looked after on board ship but he’d do better
ashore. The Army medical officer says he can’t be transferred to a
hospital in town without high level authorization because there are
no beds available, and anyway, no-one even knows who he is or what
unit he’s from. I thought Faith may know someone who could help
him—perhaps Major Hunter.’

‘What’s the name of the ship you’re calling
from, Mr Sharkey?’

‘The captain says I can’t mention the ship’s
name or when she sails over the telephone.’

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Welenski said. ‘I can
figure that one out. I know Captain Rivers went missing on
Guadalcanal. Leave it with me, Mr Sharkey. I’ll see what I can
do.’

Welenski hung up the phone and dialed the
main switchboard. ‘Get me the Point Danger Private Hotel in
Coolangatta,’ he said as soon as he was connected, then waited
impatiently strumming his fingers while the operator put the call
through.

‘Point Danger Private Hotel,’ a cheerful
female voice announced.

‘Miss Brodie’s room please.’

The phone rang a dozen times before the hotel
operator came back on the line. ‘She doesn’t seem to be in her
room, sir. Shall I try the restaurant?’

‘Yes, please.’ Welenski kept pounding his
fingers on his desk until the cheerful voice came back on the line.
‘Sorry, sir. You’ve just missed her. Apparently she just left for
the beach with another guest. They took a picnic lunch. They said
they would be gone all day.’

Welenski clenched his fist and thumped the
desktop in exasperation. He was about to hang up the phone, but
suddenly his suspicions were aroused. ‘This other guest, may I ask
who it is?’

‘I don’t know for certain, sir,’ the hotel
operator said happily. ‘But I expect it was Major Lyle Hunter. I
was on the reception desk when they arrived here last night. Would
you like to leave Miss Brodie a message? ’

No, thanks. If she said she’d be gone all
day, perhaps I’ll just call back this evening.’