ROCKS AND SHOALS

by M. L. Maki

  Spike sees the boy waving at her, “Hello. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. Mommy, she talked to me!”

  Spike steps to the microphone, “Thank you for such a warm welcome. This is my second time in New York City. It’s always nice to come back.” The crowd roars in appreciation. “Thank you. May I talk to you about something important?” Finally, silence, “What I and so many others do; the fighting, the combat, losing comrades, it’s all extremely hard. What makes it bearable. What makes it doable. What makes it survivable is knowing, with absolute certainty, that we are supported by you back home.” She pauses and waits for the cheering to die down.

  A man near the front shouts, “I love you.”

  She smiles, “Thank you, but they’re not giving me enough time for dating.” Laughter fills the air. “I was talking about how important it is to the service men and women to know they are supported back home. There are many, many ways you can support us. You can write a letter to a service man or woman you know. You can write a letter to any serviceman, any marine, any sailor, and address it to the War Department. That letter will be sent to someone out there that needs it. That someone will know that you care. They may even write back. You can, individually, or with a church or other civic organization, adopt a unit and send them care packages. Things that are needed are socks, underwear, soap, lotions, newspapers, books, and foods like hard candy and beef jerky.

  “It may seem like a little thing. To the man or woman on the front lines, it’s everything. It means they aren’t forgotten. It means you care.” She pauses in the silence and smiles, “You can also invest in war bonds. It’s expensive to fight the way we must. One flight in a jet like mine requires hundreds of gallons of fuel. Building new equipment and training hundreds of thousands of servicemen on that equipment is expensive. What we are doing is very, very important.

  “We are the generation that defeats tyranny and evil. We defeat Hitler. We defeat Tojo. We defeat Mussolini. We band together and we fight. We fight on the battlefield, on the sea, and in the air. We do it together. Without you, we cannot win this fight. With you, we cannot lose.” She pauses, watching their faces.

  “This generation wins this war and establishes freedom as the normal human condition throughout the world.” The cheering is deafening. She takes a deep breath and lowers her voice, “While we are doing that, we cannot forget the cost. We in the Black Knights had a plane shot down over occupied France. Lieutenant Harald Klint and Lieutenant Peter Moskowitz did everything right. They are superb aviators. They evaded the Germans, Lieutenant Moskowitz caring for his wounded pilot. They made it to the coast. Lieutenant Klint, with the help of Lieutenant Moskowitz, was able to escape. Unfortunately, Peter was captured in the attempt. Peter Moskowitz is a Jew. He was captured by the Germans. Germans, who as I speak, are torturing and committing genocide on the Jewish people. But not only them, Catholics, the old and infirm, the sick and the dying, political prisoners and Russians, and the Romany. If you are not what they consider of Aryan descent, you will go to the concentration camps.”

  She pauses, looking out at the crowd, “If we cannot stop him, Hitler will murder over six million Jews. He will murder millions of people he considers lesser and dissidents. We must stop the evil. We must stop Hitler. We cannot stop him without your help. Please help us defeat this evil that is loose on the world. Thank you.”

  Spike steps back and La Guardia takes her hand and shakes it. When they reach the bottom of the stairs, she turns to her people, “Post the guard. Fall out and carry on.” She returns their salutes and goes with the mayor. He leads her to his car. Once they’re both in, he tells his driver, “Rockefeller Music Hall, Fred.” He looks over at Spike, “I’ll say this, Commander, you know how to speak. Why did you choose to speak about the Jews?”

  “I know there is a large population of Jews in New York.” The car pulls onto a road lined with cheering people. She waves as she continues talking, “It was the absolute truth. I kept a lot out because my pilot is held by the Germans. Well, that is, if he’s still alive. Mayor, if they are going to give me this platform to speak to the American people, I want to tell them the truth.”

  “The people rarely want the truth. They much prefer neat tidy lies that feel like the truth.”

  “As long as the government wants me to do this tour, I’m going to speak about the people I know who are making a difference. And that includes the minorities.”

  La Guardia nods, “I see. You know, the Supreme Court will probably strike down the Wartime Resource Act and Navy Equality Act. I personally support both, but they seem far reaching, even to me.”

  Spike smiles, “Think positive, not negative. There are always people standing against progress. Sometimes they win. Sometimes they lose. A famous man in my time said that the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice. So, the real and personal choice every soul must make is in deciding what they pursue. Do they reside on the side of justice and fairness, or do they reside on the side of institutionalized hatred and subjugation? The choice is stark and clear, and in the end, it is what this war is about.”

  La Guardia, “You’re an amazing person. I must ask. Where does my legacy lay?”

  “In my history everyone knows about the corruption in this city. It’s a matter of historical fact. You do the best you can to eradicate it. You are beloved. They even name an airport after you.”

  The car comes to a stop and they are helped out. La Guardia comes to her side, “Thank you, Commander.”

  Cooper steps up and salutes, “This way, ma’am.”

  Major Pettigrew walks down the steps and Cooper salutes him. Pettigrew returns the salute. Spike clears her throat and Pettigrew closes his eyes and sighs. He salutes and she returns it. They all walk up the stairs and Cooper guides her to a changing room. When the three of them are in the room and the door closes, Cooper turns on the major, “Major Pettigrew that will be the last time you ever disrespect my commander.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Sir, she has earned your salute and you better fucking give it to her every single time you fucking see her outside. Am I clear?”

  “Chief, don’t meddle in matters between officers.”

  Cooper lifts Pettigrew by his lapels and plants him against the wall, “Sir, you have a lot of air miles to fly with us. That ramp opens in flight. Do you know what happens to someone who falls from thirty thousand feet?”

  “Uh? Chief?”

  “It’s the same thing that happens to anyone. They go splat. Do not disrespect our commander again.”

  “I’ll have you brought up on charges.”

  “I fucking dare you. Do you know who will handle my case? Commander Hunt.” He sets the shaken major down and smooths his lapels. “Do not disrespect her.”

  Pettigrew looks at Hunt. He pales when he looks into her hard, dark eyes. She turns and walks to the end of the room past the makeup tables and finds her bags. “You can go, gentlemen. Thank you.” They look at each other and leave.

  She shucks her flight and pressure suit and is down to her underwear when she is interrupted by four ladies. She’s bending over, changing her socks, making her shrapnel scars visible. She finishes and turns around and smiles. “Ladies, I recognize you. You’re on the tour with me.” She puts her hand out, “Sam Hunt.” Veronica Lake takes her hand, “We know who you are. This is such a pleasure. So, you know who we are. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I’m going to introduce us all anyway. It’s the polite thing to do.” She points to each actress in turn, “I’m Veronica Lake. This is Merle Oberon, Myrna Loy, and Rita Hayworth. Ladies, Commodore Samantha Hunt.”

  Sam grins, “Hey.” She puts on her uniform blouse and pulls up her dress blue slacks. “I prefer Samantha or Sam. I’m sorry, I’m no longer a commodore. I’m just a commander now.”

  The ladies busy themselves changing out of their street clothes and into formal dress. Myrna Loy says, “Aren’t you angry that they took it away? We sh
ould have remembered. Sorry.”

  Sam, “I’m dealing.”

  The door opens and Pettigrew steps in. Sam turns on him and in full command voice, “Out.” Pettigrew looks at her in shock. “Out!” He surveys the room of half -dressed women and leaves. Sam takes a breath, “Damn! What the hell was that about?”

  Myrna, “Sam, I think I love you.”

  Veronica, “Me too. That’s so annoying.”

  Rita, “I so very much agree. Thank you.”

  Merle, “Darling, you are now my favorite person in the whole world.”

  Sam, “I see. Does this happen often?”

  Veronica, “Yes. It does.”

  Sam, “Okay, then. From now on there will be a Marine outside our changing room.”

  Veronica laughs, “Can you be on set for all my pictures?”

  Sam puts on her jacket with her ribbon stack, “So, this is normal, men walking into your dressing room without permission.”

  Rita, “All the time.”

  Veronica, “Especially AD’s like the Major. They get drunk on the power.”

  Myrna, “Would you tell us what the medals are for?”

  Sam smiles, “No time. Maybe later.” She brushes her hair, powders her nose, and puts on a touch of light rose lipstick. “God, I hate this. Okay, ladies. Are we ready?”

  They walk out of the dressing room together. Pettigrew is waiting, “Merle, three minutes until you’re on stage, then Myrna, Veronica, Rita, Pat, and then Commander Hunt.

  Sam, “Major, they’re Miss Lake, Miss Oberon, etcetera. You haven’t earned the right to call them by their first names. Respect, Major.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Here’s your speech. Places.” He walks away, not making eye contact with Sam.

  They walk to the right stage wing where Cooper is waiting, “Is the changing room clear, ma’am? I need to move your bags.”

  “Yes, it is. YNC Cooper, let me introduce you to Miss Myrna Loy, Miss Merle Oberon, Miss Veronica Lake, and Miss Rita Hayworth. Ladies, my yeoman, James Cooper.” He delicately shakes each of their hands. “Cooper, please post a Marine at our changing room when we’re in it.”

  Cooper, “He didn’t. I’m going to fucking kill him…oh shit…Sorry, ma’am.”

  Sam grins and the ladies chuckle, “No, Radar. I’ll handle him. Just post the guard. Thank you.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Do you want one on your hotel room door?”

  Sam sighs, “The men need their sleep. It won’t be necessary. Their orders are that when any women are using the dressing room, no man is allowed entrance without my approval. Clear enough?”

  “Roger, Spike. May I tell them deadly force is authorized?”

  Sam smiles, “Radar, no. But you are welcome to tell the major it is”

  He grins, “Yes, ma’am.” He walks into the dressing room.

  Rita Hayworth says, “He’s cute.”

  “Yes, he is. He’s my right hand. Understand, he’s married to a Brit.”

  Rita, “Of course, all the good ones are.”

  “Not all the good ones.”

  Merle, “I’m supposed to behave because I’m married, but do tell.” Just then, her named is called. She sighs and turns to walk out onto the stage.

  Myrna, “Do you know Lieutenant Fronczak?”

  Sam, “I do. He was on the Vinson when we came back. He’s a good man. A very good man. Are you two dating?”

  “We’re together. We have discussed marriage.”

  Sam is silent, then, she looks Myrna in the eyes, “I want you to know something about Lieutenant Fronczak. He’s a SEAL, a navy commando. He’s one of the most capable warriors in the world. He’s disciplined, physically courageous, and an exceptional fighter. Hollywood has a reputation for short marriages and casual flings. No matter what you do, he would never, ever harm you. But, if you cheat, there will be consequences. If you choose him, never cheat on him or hurt him. I will never forgive you.”

  Myrna, “Are you two…?”

  “No, he’s a brother to me. I think highly of him, and so should you.” Sam looks at the other women, “The men I know are serious warriors. They are not cabana boys to enjoy and cast aside. If you’re serious and want an introduction, I can do that.”

  Myrna is called and Merle rejoins the group. Rita says, “I think you scared her.”

  “Good. He’s a serious person and deserves a serious partner. I hope she can be that for him.”

  Rita, “You two never…?”

  Sam smiles, “No. I’m a serious person, too. It’s almost impossible to find a man who’ll put up with what I do.”

  Veronica, “But you’re married to that pilot. The one who earned the Medal of Honor.”

  “No, I didn’t. I haven’t married anyone.”

  A dark-haired man in a suit joins them, “The papers said you did, Commander. I’m sorry, Pat O’Brien.” He offers his hand.

  Sam shakes his hand, “The story was false.”

  “But you were there for a wedding.”

  “That is quite enough, Mr. O’Brien.”

  Rita smiles and goes out onto the stage.

  “Pat. Please. I apologize for prying.”

  Sam gives him a hard look, then a small smile, “Accepted.”

  Pat goes out next. At last, her name is called. She looks down at the speech in her hand and sets it on a table. She walks out to bright lights and a cheering crowd. The rest of her group are lined up behind her as she steps up to the microphone. Looking out she sees the theater is packed, including the box seats. Eventually, the noise subsides.

  “Thank you for your kind welcome. As we all know, I’m here to ask for money. It isn’t something I’m comfortable doing. But, I’m here because this is important. There are many ways you can support the men and women who are fighting for our country and for the freedom of the world. Letters. Care packages. A kind word for a serviceman or woman who is stateside. Your respect and kindness matters.

  “We in the military know the cost. We also know what is at stake. In Nazi Germany, as I speak, people are being murdered by the Germans in concentration camps. They’re being starved, beaten, experimented on, ridiculed, humiliated, and murdered. They come from all walks of life, but most of them are Jews. The Gestapo round up people and torture them. The SS kill without hesitation or remorse.

  “We fought a SS unit in England. They laid waste to whole villages. So many were lost, men, women, and children. They didn’t care. The Japanese and Italians are committing their own atrocities. They have to be stopped. The only means to stop the murder is to destroy the government of our enemy. That is what is at stake.

  “Now, I want to speak of the price. Of the original twenty-four flight officers in the Black Knights squadron, seven gave their life in defense of our nation. Six were wounded to the point they were transferred out. One was captured by the Nazis. Fourteen of twenty-four. More than half. These men are not statistics. Each was a son, a grandson, a brother. They lost everything when we came back in time, and still they fought. They fought for comrades. They fought for you.

  “In my other squadrons, I lost eleven dead and nine wounded. That number included two service women. I want to speak today about Ensign Tabitha Younger. She was the copilot and weapons systems officer on one of our planes. She was from Booneville, a small town in Kentucky. She was incredibly smart and fast on her feet. She was quick with a joke and loved a good pun. She was also a superb pilot. The Germans shot her plane down just over the battle line. She and her pilot struggled to get their aircraft to friendly lines. They almost made it. They had to eject near the battle. They all made it safely down. As they were evading the Germans, Tabitha Younger was shot and killed. It was a common thing for the Germans to do. They immediately shot any American pilot they captured. She died in the arms of her comrades. An American Army unit rescued them and brought her back to our lines. She lies in a grave outside of Cambridge, England. She lies there with the other brave souls that gave their lives for freedom. Among those buried i
n that hallowed ground is Commodore James Holtz.

  “What we do is hard. It is extremely hard. Without your help, your support, nothing we do is even possible. We cannot win this war, this battle for the freedom of a world, without your help. America is blessed with resources beyond measure, and they do make a difference. But we cannot turn those resources into the equipment to fight with without your support.

  “We are a blessed nation. We have the resources and material we need to win. But, without you, it is all nothing. You are the greatest resource of our nation. You are the generation that wins this war. You are the reason we come out of this great crisis and build a more peaceful world. So, thank you for all you do. Whether you work in a factory, a mine, on a farm, or in an office, you are what makes the difference and supports the men and women on the front lines.

  “Thank you, so much. And, oh yes, please buy bonds”

  The audience is silent, then laughter fills the theater and they applaud. She steps away and La Guardia steps up to say a few words. As soon as she walks off the stage, Major Pettigrew grabs her arm, “I provided a speech. You will use it.” She looks down at his hand, then looks up into his eyes, silent. “You cannot go off script. You are talking about stuff you shouldn’t. Say what I want you to say.”

  She gazes at him, still silent. Finally, “Are you finished?”

  “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?”

  He glowers, “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Now, take her hand off me, Major. I don’t want to do this shit. If you’re so proud of your speech, you deliver it. They came to see and hear me. Everywhere we go, I will give them me. I will not deliver a speech prepared by someone else. If that is unacceptable, you can release me back to the Navy and I can do my real job. So, what’s next?”

  He removes his hand and takes a deep breath, “You go to the doors and shake hands, then we have dinner.”

  “What’s the attire for dinner?”

  “Full, or dinner dress.”

  “Okay, show me where to stand.” As they walk by the dressing room, there is a Marine corporal in dress uniform carrying a Garand rifle with fixed bayonet. He pops too and presents arms. She returns the salute, “Thank you, Corporal. I’ll be back in a bit.”