Whispers of a New Dawn (42 page)

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Authors: Murray Pura

BOOK: Whispers of a New Dawn
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There was a sudden banging on the door that made them jump and turn around.

Forgetting herself, Ruth blurted, “
Was ist das
?”

A young man’s voice responded, “I’m sorry to disturb you, but is Becky Whetstone in there? Or her mother or aunt?”


Wir sind alle hier
.”

“Pardon me?”

Lyyndaya put a hand on her sister’s arm. “The three of us are in here.”

Skinny stepped into view. “I didn’t want to barge in on something personal.”

“You didn’t. What is it you want?”

“The colonel wanted me to relay this message to you right away. If you wish to join him at his office my jeep is at your disposal.”

“What is the message?”

Skinny handed Lyyndaya a sheet of paper folded in half. “Ma’am.”

Becky, Lyyndaya, Ruth—

Our own antiaircraft guns have been firing at American planes because they think they are Japanese. We have lost two fighters and their pilots. Please join me immediately.

Billy Skipp

T
HIRTY
-S
IX

B
reak left and right! Break left and right! They’ve got our altitude!”

“Wheeler, we’re being fired on by our own AA.”

“Roger. Get clear of Pearl Harbor. Get clear. They can’t recognize your insignia.”

“Breaking left!”

“Thunderbird! Thunderbird! Does anyone have a visual of Bird?”

“Negative. He’s not off either wing here.”

“Did his plane go down? Did anyone see the P-36 go down? Can you confirm?”

“More AA. Head inland. Head for base.”

“Boxcars. Who can give me a report on Boxcars?”

“He’s down. Never saw smoke but he’s down.”

“Did you see him crash? Can you verify a crash?”

“Low on fuel. Heading back.”

“This is Wheeler. Did you spot enemy troopships? Did you spot a task force?”

“No troopships close to Oahu. Repeat. No troopships. No carriers. No task force.”

“Our formation is clear of Pearl, Wheeler.”

“If any of you eyeball Bird shout it out.”

“Roger, Lockjaw.”

Raven tried again and again to make radio contact but a flak burst had knocked out his microphone—he could hear his squadron but they couldn’t hear him. He had taken a long loop out to sea to avoid
antiaircraft fire and was now trying to get to Wheeler from the east coast, his needle trembling just above empty, his engine stuttering, fabric torn by AA flapping wildly on his port wing. The sun was low on the horizon and the sea was full of shadows.

Just a few nights ago it was the full moon. What will it be tonight? Half of that? Lord, I have to get home, sun or no sun, moon or no moon. I’m a married man now. Have to make it. My guys think I’m gone
.

He made his way past the beaches and over the palms. To his left he could just catch a glimpse of antiaircraft going up and bursting in the late afternoon sky. He glanced at his watch. The crystal was smashed and the hands had stopped at 0437 hours. He had no idea what the time was. Scanning the instrument panel he could see the oil pressure dropping and the gas gauge about to indicate an empty tank. He rubbed a hand over his face and his day’s growth of beard.

There’s nothing I can do but nurse it along—reduce my airspeed, take more time, and hope I don’t crash into a hillside in the dark. Or I could speed up and get to Wheeler faster and risk having the engine cut out—and I would drop like a stone right in front of Becky’s eyes
.

“Asking again—any sign of Boxcars? Any sign of Bird?”

“Negative.”

“No one up here but us, boss.”

Miles ahead, still specks to him, Raven watched his squadron descend and land where a tall plume of black smoke hung in the golden sky. He was already flying as low as he dared in order to conserve fuel, confident there were no AA batteries on his route and, if there were, the gunners would see the stars on his plane. Now and then a white or bronzed face gaped up at him, and some people ran.

I don’t blame you. I guess I would run too after what’s happened today
.

Jungle and fields swept past under his wings. The light took on a copper color as the sun sank. His engine coughed and rumbled and then coughed again. The plume of smoke was close but not close enough. He was too low to parachute and didn’t like using a chute anyway.

If I could just reach an open field near the runway. Just a long-enough stretch to handle my slide. Flat would be great too
.

He smiled. “What would you say about a prayer like that, Beck?”
he asked out loud. “Nothing much to it, is there? But I sure mean it. Every part of me means it.”

The engine cut out.

“We have an unidentified aircraft approaching from the east. He is coming in low and looks to be preparing to strafe the airfield. Who’s still up?”

“Batman’s up.”

“Whistler’s up.”

“Engage fighter. Repeat. Engage fighter. He is descending rapidly to treetop level.”

“Got him.”

“On him with Batman.”

“Hey. That’s one of ours. Say again, that’s one of ours. It’s a P-36.”

“Thunderbird. A definite. It’s the Bird. Can you read us? Bird, can you read us?”

“Wheeler. We have Thunderbird. He doesn’t appear to be under power. We identify him as the plane approaching from the east. Do not fire on him. Repeat. Do not open fire. It is Thunderbird.”

“Mayday! Mayday! Mayday! Thunderbird is hitting trees and losing control. He may have enough to get to the edge of the airstrip. Clear personnel from the runway immediately.”

Raven fought the stick, forcing the nose up. The P-36 struck the grass with a loud bang and the canopy split. He kept thinking,
Too much speed, too much speed
, but his brakes did nothing. The metal screeched and the wings bounced against the ground. One snapped off and flipped back over the top of the plane, just missing him. Mud and stones spattered the glass. The only words that sped through Raven’s mind were from an old hymn his mother always sang.

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide
;

The darkness deepens; Lord with me abide
.

When other helpers fail and comforts flee
,

Help of the helpless, O abide with me
.

Then even that was taken away as his P-36 skidded onto the concrete of the runway. Sparks and flame showered its wings, and it hurtled toward the still burning wreckage of the morning’s attack.

T
HIRTY
-S
EVEN

W
e got the guy up to the hospital okay,” Gunny said to his men.

“They say it looks good but we can check back on him tomorrow or Tuesday if we’re not fighting off an invasion.”

“All right.”

“They bandaged Harrison’s hands from the oil burns. He wouldn’t stay up there. Said there were too many people worse off than him and he’d be taking space from someone who needed it.”

The sailor glanced over at Harrison who was leaning against the gunwale and saying nothing, his uniform oil and blood, his hands white with the bandages.

Gunny gauged the location of the sun. “We got just enough time to drop you back at the
Taney
. But we may spot someone else. In which case we’ll do whatever we can to pick him up. Understood?”

“Understood.”

“Take the helm back. Get us home. Maybe we have enough fuel, maybe we don’t. Do your best. You’re a good sailor. Just remember. We’re the Coast Guard. And we’re at war. Every life we save is a victory. Everybody we recover is a victory.”

“Got it.”

Gunny slapped him on the back. “Take the helm. Get us to our berth.”

The sailor gunned the engine and began to steer the launch around Hospital Point. In a few minutes they were cruising through the inlet
that led to the open sea. Flak burst overhead as AA guns continued to hammer the sky. Gunny went over to Harrison.

“How do your hands feel?”

“They feel good.”

“Good? You’re a crazy fool, Harrison. You could have been burned alive in that mess you jumped into.”

“Better me than you.”

“What?”

“You would have done it. I saw you taking your shoes off. I beat you to it because I went in with them on.”

Gunny gave a lopsided grin. “You ruined those black leather shoes of yours, sailor.”

“I’ll buy another pair. No one cries out like that man did without getting a response from me. I don’t care what I have to jump into.”

“Gunny!” A sailor called to him from the bow. “We’ve got company.”

Gunny and Harrison hadn’t paid any notice to a destroyer moving along the far shore of the inlet. It had swerved and was now headed straight across their bow. The helmsman slowed down their launch. In a few moments they were being hailed.

“Where from? Where to?”

Gunny gazed up at the officers and men at the rail. “We’re from the
Taney
. A Coast Guard cutter moored in Honolulu Harbor.”

“What brought you into Pearl on a day like this?”

“To do what we can. To help out.”

The captain smiled. “I saw that. Back and forth all afternoon. How many trips did you make to the hospital?”

“I can’t say. Seven, maybe?”

“Closer to ten. My math skills are pretty good. How many were alive?”

Gunny laughed. “My math skills aren’t that good, skipper. A dozen? Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen?”

“What if the enemy had come back for another run? You were sitting ducks.”

“They wouldn’t have wasted a bomb on us, sir.”

“A few machine-gun bullets would have been all it took.”

“Seemed worth the risk.”

The captain nodded. “You must be low on fuel.”

“We’ll make it, sir.”

“Let’s be sure of that.” The captain turned to a man beside him. “I think we can spare a drum, Mr. Gibbs?”

“I believe we can, Captain.”

A fuel drum was lowered in a net. The Coast Guard men secured it near the engine in the stern. Harrison waved up at the destroyer.

“Thanks, Navy!” he called.

“It’s the navy who thanks you, sailor.” The captain looked them over once again. “You’re all enlisted men.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You came out here on your own?”

“We were granted leave to do so—yes, sir.”

Suddenly the captain stood up straight and bellowed in a voice that seemed to carry right across Pearl Harbor. “Officer on deck!”

The other officers and sailors at the rail snapped to attention and saluted the men in the launch. The captain held the salute for several long seconds. The surprised Coast Guard men—Gunny, Harrison, and all—finally came to attention in their bloody and blackened clothing and returned the honor. Smoke drifted over them from the burning battleships as the AA guns still banged and thumped.

Finally the captain dropped his arm. “Godspeed. And if the enemy should come again, night or morning, make sure the Coast Guard lays into them with everything they’ve got.”

Gunny grinned and snapped off a final salute. “Aye, aye, Skipper.”

The launch moved around the destroyer’s bow and headed for the ocean. Off to starboard the sun hovered just above the horizon. Harrison watched as the smoke from the attack turned it the color of blood. Then he stared straight ahead where sea and sky met in a long line of gold.

“There’s something you don’t see every day, Harrison.” Gunny was at his elbow.

“What’s that?”

“The navy paying tribute to the Coast Guard. Shall we let the CO or second-in-command know?”

Harrison leaned on the gunwale as fine spray blew back over their
faces. “Why spoil it, Gunny? It was for the men in the launch. The volunteers. And it can stay with them to the grave.”

“I was thinking the same thing. It was a hard day. And they did a marvelous thing on a hard day.”

“Tell the men that, Gunny. Tell them you’re proud of them.”

Gunny laughed. “Why spoil it, Harrison? They’ve been told that in a way far better than I could ever tell them. Any words of mine would just take the bloom off the rose. Or the shine off the sea to put it in nautical terms.”

Harrison nodded and folded his bandaged hands one over the other. “Aye, aye, Gunny. Let’s keep the day under our caps. All of it.” He fell silent, recalling the conversation he’d had at the hospital with the survivor from the
Arizona
:

I heard a lot of boats go by. I knew they were looking for survivors. But I was trapped under a piece of wreckage and it was all I could do to hang on and keep breathing. Finally I yanked my foot loose. It broke my ankle but I got to you guys
.

Better a busted ankle than a drowning
.

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