The Boxcar Blues (34 page)

With the decline of German
aircraft, the pilots of the 99
^th
had turned their attention
to the railroads. Germany was trying to move its freight by rail,
but the red tailed P-51s proved to be just as effective at stopping
rail traffic as they’d been at defeating the Luftwaffe.

Catwalk had just returned from destroying
two freight trains and blowing up a strategic trestle when the
squadron orderly called out to him, “Lieutenant Jackson, you’ve got
mail.”

The first of two letters was from his
brother Cecil with routine news of the family. Everyone was well
and they’d finally finished the second house. Catwalk smiled as he
read that his Momma had finally planted her first flower garden.
This had been a life-long dream of hers and he felt good that he’d
helped her achieve it.

The second letter was from Julio. Although
there was no return address, he recognized the scrawl that he’d
seen on so many maintenance reports at the airline. He opened the
letter and read, in shock—Barney had died.

His hands trembling, Catwalk stared at the
words. It couldn’t be! He went into the barracks and sat down on
his bunk. Tears welled in his eyes as he read over and over how the
nurse had found him dead one morning. Then he cried out loud.

He had never thought about losing Barney
because even after the accident, he’d been a strong and vibrant
person. Even though he was immobile he’d still radiated a strength
that few people could equal. It just didn’t seem possible that he
was gone. Next to his Momma, Barney had been the most steadying
influence in his life and he’d often thought of where he’d be had
it not been for Barney’s help. Now, his life’s mentor was gone.
Within weeks he’d lost both of his best friends. He had to
question: What kind of God was it that kept taking the people who
meant so much to him?

What could possibly happen next? Even if he
was shot down and captured by the Germans, he wouldn’t feel as bad
as he felt right now. He felt incredibly alone, much the same as
after Sam had been killed.

He thought of his Momma’s words: “In any
tragedy, always try to look at the bright side.” Sometimes,
however, it was very hard to find bright side. He thought about his
family. He still had them and he was thankful for that. There was
somewhat of a bright side, but it didn’t make the hurt of losing
someone like Barney, any less.

John Casey, a fellow pilot with whom he’d
become close, approached his bunk. “Hey, Cat. You wanna go out and
run a few miles?” Then Casey saw him up close and asked, “Good God,
man. You look terrible. What happened?”

“
Come on. I’ll tell you
while we run.”

Catwalk relayed the bad news. Casey had
heard about Curly being shot down, but Catwalk’s latest loss was
more tragedy piled on top of that. His friend sensed the magnitude
of his loss and asked, “You gonna be O.K. to fly?”

“
I think flying is the one
thing that’ll help me keep my mind off this.”

“
You’re right, Cat. Get as
much seat time as you can.”

Catwalk flew every mission assigned to him
and filled in on several others when pilots were unable to make
their flight. Germany had come out with the ME-262, the first
operational jet fighter, but the P-51 pilots weren’t daunted. In
air combat the jet had more speed, but wasn’t as maneuverable. For
all the hoopla, the German jets soon learned if they engaged an
aircraft with a red tail, their future would be shortened. The
Mustangs still ruled the skies over Europe.

In three months, Catwalk racked up twelve
more kills, bringing his total to eighteen, second highest in the
air group. One day he was summoned to the squadron commander’s
office. The C.O. said, “Lieutenant Jackson, you’ve shot down your
share of the Germans. Why don’t you leave a few for the other guys.
You‘re going back to Tuskegee to serve as an instructor until your
hitch, or the war is over.”

The first thought that crossed his mind was
whether he’d be able to find and meet the woman, who looked
identical to Sam, that he’d seen from the bus. His chances were
slim, but if he was stationed there he’d have an opportunity. “Yes
sir. When do I leave sir?”

“
Next week. We’ve got some
fresh blood coming in. You break in your replacement, then take
your medals and go home.”

“
Will do, sir.”

Eight days later, Catwalk packed his duffel
bag with his worldly belongings, which included the Distinguished
Service Cross with eight Oak Leaf clusters, then flew to Rabat,
Morocco and boarded a ship for the United States.

When he’d been flying
every day, Catwalk had been able to overlook the racial inequities
that he men in the 99
^th
were subjected to on a constant basis. Now,
however, he found himself thrust back into the world that was
distinctly split into two classes—black and white.

The first such reminder was after his ship
docked. A sign at the bottom of the gangplank separated the black
servicemen from the white. On the train trip back to Tuskegee,
while the white servicemen were given cold beer and meals, he rode
in the segregated coaches of the train. They were given water.

At Tuskegee, the town was as segregated as
ever, but thanks to Colonel Parrish, who was still the base
commander, improvements were being made on the base.

On his first weekend off, Catwalk and
another instructor caught the bus to town to the black movie
theater to see Casablanca, starring Humphrey Bogart. After the
movie, they were walking toward a soda fountain when Catwalk saw
the same young woman, the one who was spitting image of Sam, that
he’d seen on the bus the bus ride out of town so long ago. He
thought of how incredibly lucky it was to see her again. He had to
talk to her.

“
Wait here, Hal, I’ve got
to talk to someone.”

Catwalk approached the woman. Up close, he
saw the resemblance to Sam was uncanny. He said, “Excuse me, Ma’am.
I apologize for this, but you look like someone I used to know back
in New Mexico. Is your name Wells?”

The woman looked at him and started to say
something, but stopped when a man joined them. The man said,
“Rosemary, is this guy bothering you?”

She said, “No, he thought I was someone
else.” She turned to Catwalk, brushed a lock of hair out of her
face and said, “You must be mistaken. My name is not Wells.”

They turned and walked away.

As Catwalk drank his soda, the woman’s face
haunted him. There was no way she could look that much like Sam and
not be related.

Catwalk and Hal returned to the base. After
getting off the liberty bus, Hal asked, “You want to go over to the
officer’s club and grab a couple beers?”

Cat begged off, “No thanks, Hal. Maybe some
other time. Right now I think I’ll try to get caught up on my
letter writing.”

“
OK, suit yourself,
Cat.”

He then returned to his bunk, laid down and
thought about the woman. He had heard that everyone has a double,
someone who looks identical to them. Whether that was true or not
he couldn’t say, but the resemblance here was uncanny. Her voice
and mannerisms, like when she brushed back a lock of hair, were
exactly like Sam’s. Catwalk thought about trying to talk to her
again. If she was married to that guy, he didn’t want to cause the
woman a problem, but he just wasn’t convinced that she was
completely unrelated to Sam. He decided he was going to talk to
her, just once more.

Two weeks later Catwalk walked into the
theater by himself. The movie hadn’t even started yet when the same
woman came and sat down next to him. She whispered, “Listen to me.
I’m married to the man you saw and he’s insanely jealous. If he
sees me talking to you, he’ll beat me. My maiden name was Wells.
Did you know my sister, Samantha?”

Catwalk nodded his head and ate his
popcorn.

“
Where is she
now?”

“
She was killed several
years ago. Shot by a hateful deputy.”

When the woman didn’t say anything, Catwalk
turned to look at her. Tears streamed down her face. She wiped her
eyes and said, “How well did you know her?”

“
She was the only woman
I’ve ever loved.”

“
Can you meet me at the
park on the edge of town tomorrow so we can talk?”

“
I can, but I don’t want
you to get in trouble.”

“
Two o’clock, please.” And
she left.

Catwalk arrived at the park at one forty
five. Because she’d said that her husband was the jealous and
violent type, he was apprehensive about seeing the woman, but he
desperately wanted to talk to her.

She arrived ten minutes later and sat down
across the picnic table from him. Seeing her in the daylight
revealed lines of fear around her eyes. He cursed the man that
could do this to such a beautiful woman.

She said, “My name is Rosemary Trent now.
How did you come to know my sister?”

Catwalk told the entire story, from the
bogus murder charges in Texas, to the shooting in that took
Samantha’s life. When he finished, she said, “You really did love
her. I can tell by the way you talk about her.”

“
I’m not sure there will
ever be anyone else for me. I don’t think I’ll ever find a woman to
measure up to her.”

She smiled. It was the same smile that had
brought him so much joy and lit up his life for the brief time Sam
was with him. The smile he never thought he’d see again. He felt an
incredible sense of going back to the happiest times of his
life.

She said, “Are you going back to New Mexico
after the war?”

“
Probably. My family is in
Mississippi, but there’s nothing there for me. I’ll go back to
Vaughn and see what kind of work I can find.”

“
I hope you find what
you’re looking for, Catwalk. I hope you find happiness and
goodness.”

“
Thank you, Rosemary. And
I hope the same for you.”

They stood and Rosemary came around the
table to hug him. Catwalk put his arms around her and felt the
woman he’d been missing for ten years. He held her tighter and
longer than he should have, but he didn’t know if he’d ever again
enjoy the pleasure of holding a woman this much.

He stepped back and said, “Sorry. I,
ah….”

“
Don’t apologize, Catwalk.
I understand.”

Catwalk returned to the base with a broad
range of mixed emotions. On one hand, the woman he’d been missing
for so long, existed in her twin sister. But, she was married to
another man. A man who didn’t treat her well and made her live in
fear. He’d be doing himself, and her, a favor if he took her away
from him, but he knew it was wrong to interfere in their marriage.
He thought about this several times every day.

In recognition of the
incredible job they’d done in Europe, Colonel Parrish had put up a
sign in front of the barracks. It read: Home of The
332
^nd
Air Group. 200 escort missions without losing a single bomber
to enemy aircraft.

This was a small gesture,
but for the men of the 99
^th
and other squadrons in the
Air Group, it was greatly appreciated. The pilots walked with their
chests stuck out just a little farther and the confident smiles of
proud men were seen more often.

Unfortunately, these were times when a good
deed could be neutralized in the blink of an eye. A newspaper
article from the Pittsburg Defender, a prominent black newspaper
told of the unkindest cut of all; German and Italian POWs were
being treated better than the black servicemen in the U.S.A.

Catwalk read the story to several other
black instructors. “Due to a lack of stockade space in Europe, many
German and Italian prisoners of war have been shipped to the United
States. While they are here, the prisoners are often escorted to
USO shows, movies and dances; all activities that are off limits to
black American service personnel. Restaurants in the communities
where they’re held are glad to serve them meals, but those same
restaurants won’t serve black American servicemen. Local laundries
will launder the POW’s uniforms, but they won’t give the same
service to the black GIs.”

He then said, “Men, I’ll be discharged in a
few months, and I’ll go on with my life. I’ll take with me one
memory: That I was a member of the finest group of fighter pilots
that has ever defended America. We did it with very little support
from our own commanders, but regardless of the circumstances, no
one can ever take away from us the fact that we were the best of
the best. Quite possibly there will never be another group of
fighter pilots to equal our record.”

The group responded, “Amen.”

In November, 1945, Catwalk reported to the
Godman Field Separation Center for discharge. He then drove to
Meridian, where his Momma was overjoyed to see him.

“
Luke, I can’t believe it,
you’re home.” She hugged him and planted kisses on both cheeks. “Oh
Lord, I’m so glad you made it home. Luke, you don’t know how much I
worried.”

“
I’m just fine, Momma. I
came through without a scratch.”

“
My don’t you look
handsome in your uniform.” She yelled out the window, “Roseann,
honey, come in here. Luke’s home.”

His little sister came running and wrapped
her arms around him. He said, “My goodness, aren’t you getting to
be a beautiful young lady.”

“
I’m gonna be twelve next
month.”

“
I know, look what I
brought you.” Luke unpacked his duffle bag until he found the music
box he’d bought in Morocco.