ROCKS AND SHOALS

by M. L. Maki

  “She hates war.”

  “I know, son, yet she walks the path. It is before her, and she walks it. Perhaps the day will come when she accepts her war is done. When her battles are won, what will she do then? Will she seek something to fight, like Don Quixote?” John smiles at Puck, “She’s a good woman and a good warrior, but I do not think she is who you should marry. You would hobble her and keep her as your own. Is it right to leave a wild horse hobbled?”

  “Horses need to run, Grandfather. It is their nature.”

  “Yes. What is her nature? Can you see this as well?”

  “Grandfather, in the air we are partners. I know her as no one knows her.”

  “Good. Then, my son, what is her nature?”

  “Grandfather, is she never for me?”

  “What is the future, son. I cannot say, and neither can you. What is her nature?”

  “She’s a leader. A protector. A warrior who does not relish the fight. Instead, she measures success in lives saved.” He cannot stop his tears as he realizes the truth. “The woman she is now, is not the woman I fell in love with. I came to love the woman she was when we met. That woman is gone.”

  “So, son, now you see. Now you understand. Now you can smile back at the nurse who smiles at you. I hear her coming and I need more coffee.”

  PORTSMOUTH, VIRGINIA

  1750, 24 December, 1942

  Captain Chris Van Zandt opens his front door and is accosted with delicious smells coming from the kitchen. His daughter, Lieutenant Tiffany Van Zandt walks out, grinning, “Hi, Dad. Dinner in fifteen. You have time to change.”

  “What are we having?” He pulls her into a hug.

  “Roast chicken.”

  “It smells wonderful. When do you have to go back?”

  “I managed a couple of weeks. Admiral Klindt has been extremely kind.”

  “You’ve been through hell. He understands that. Thank you for coming down from Washington.”

  “Oh Dad, I thought I’d lost you.” Smiling, she hugs him. “I’m so blessed.”

  “Me, too, daughter. Me, too.”

  TEMPLE HILLS, MARYLAND

  1823, 24 December, 1942

  Master Chief Bruce Bond, still in his khakis, walks into the kitchen. He wraps his arms around her from behind, “Donna, I love you.” He slides his hands down to her pregnant belly.

  “I love you, too. How’s Sam doing?”

  He grins, “She pulled the plug on the bond tour. She’s decided Swede needs her CAG position. She’s trying to protect Gloria and Swede when their marriage goes public. She’s right. Also, she’s brought her boyfriend to Lee’s house.”

  Audrey Holtz, Commodore Holtz’s widow, looks up from her book, “What? Samantha has a boyfriend? Who?” Audrey shifts in her chair, trying to get comfortable. At six months pregnant, she’s finally really showing and is already uncomfortable.

  Bruce, “Lieutenant Junior Grade Jeremiah Buford. He’s a SEAL.”

  Donna, “What’s a SEAL?”

  Bruce, “A combat swimmer. SEALs are serious warriors. Buford took a bullet protecting her at Kenley. It made an impression.”

  Audrey gets up and pulls cookies out of the oven. “So, she’s in town?”

  Bruce, “She is. I’m arranging for a visit on Saturday. I know you want to catch up.”

  Audrey, “I do.” She puts her hand to her belly. “Whoah.”

  Bruce, “How’s your little fighter pilot.”

  “Doing laps. I think he’s trying to fly.”

  Donna smiles, “Darling, love, are you going to miss going to sea with your squadron?”

  He nods, “But, it’s okay. Being Force Command Master Chief means I’m home with you nearly every night. Geller is ready to fill my shoes.”

  Audrey, “If Swede is going to the George Washington, who’s getting command of the Knights?”

  Bruce, “I don’t know.”

  Audrey, “Where is she going to go?”

  “I don’t know. I told Lee he should give her a squadron or a ship. Something to command. I think that would make her happier than a staff job.”

  Donna, “I agree.” A buzzer goes off, “Dinners ready.”

  BARRACKS, NAS PATUXENT RIVER, MARYLAND

  1920, 24 December, 1942

  ADCS ‘Bobby’ Geller walks into the lounge with a case of beer, “Hey guys, how are we doing?”

  AD2 Greg ‘Duck’ Newburg and AD2 Lori ‘Sass’ Givens look up. Newburg, “Wow, thanks, Bobby. We were just talking. This Christmas everyone is scattered.”

  “I know. Half of our division has already split. Do you two need your privacy, or can we share a drink?”

  Sass, “We don’t really want to be alone.”

  Geller hands them each a beer, “But, you two are a couple.”

  Newburg takes Lori’s hand, “Yes.”

  Givens, “Are we going to get into trouble if we stay in the division?”

  Geller, “As long as you keep it discreet, you should be fine. Oh, also, as long as you’re not married. You aren’t, right?”

  Lori looks into Greg’s eyes, “Not yet. Shy boy hasn’t asked.”

  Greg, “I can’t afford a ring.”

  Lori puts her hands on each side of Greg’s face, “I don’t care about rings, Greg. That’s for later.”

  Greg’s smile lights his face and he kisses her. He turns to Bobby, “Would it be okay if one of us was in the White Knights?”

  Bobby, “Engaged, yes. Married, no. They’d want you on different ships.”

  Greg slips to the floor and onto both knees, “Lori, love, will you be my wife?”

  “Of course, Greg. Now, get off your knees and kiss me.”

  Bobby sits back and grins, saluting them with his beer.

  CHAPTER 34

  ADMIRAL LEE’S HOUSE

  0030, 25 December, 1942

  Jeremiah startles awake. Sam thrashes, whipping her head back and forth, moaning, “No. No. No. Oh God, no.”

  He gently wraps her up, “Shh, love. It’s okay. I’m here. I love you, baby. Shh.” Slowly, she calms and wakes up.

  She looks at him confused, then her eyes clear, “Shit. I’m sorry.”

  Jere gently kisses her, It’d alright, love. You’re safe. I’ve got you.”

  Sleepy, she says, “I love you, Jere.” She settles into his arms and drifts off to sleep. He gets comfortable and smiles, “I’ve got you, love.”

  CAMP BALCOMBE, AUSTRALIA

  1640, 25 December, 1942

  John Hunt’s platoon sit outside their Quonset hut, relaxing in their fatigues. It’s the height of summer and warm. Hunt’s platoon staff sergeant, Steven Lewis says, “Thanks for the gifts, LT. The Christmas package from your mom was great.” He chews on a cookie, grinning. “You seeing your girl today?”

  “I was thinking about it. You all good?”

  Lewis, “We’re berries here. Go have some fun. Give her a hug from us.”

  John Hunt grins and gets up, “I will.”

  LEE HOME, ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

  0630, 25 December, 1942

  Sam opens her eyes and stretches. She smiles listening to Jere breathing. His head is on her shoulder and his hand on her breast. She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, savoring the peace. Then a truck rumbles by and the war crashes into her mind, shattering her peace. “Come on, Sam. Find your calm. You’ve people who need you.” She strokes Jere’s shoulder, then his cheek, “First things, first.” She kisses his nose, then his mouth. His eyes open and he blinks, then sees her.

  “I love you.”

  “Back at ya, big guy.”

  “You alright? You had a bad dream. Do you remember it?”

  “Sorry. It’s classified.” She grins. “No, really.”

  “Jeez. You did settle down after I held you. But, classified?”

  “Make love to me, Jere. Please.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He pulls her in and kisses her deeply.

  An hour later, they’re showered and down stairs. Je
re, “Coffee. I smell coffee.” Sam’s laughing as they walk into the kitchen. Ashley’s preparing breakfast and Lee’s at the table, drinking coffee and watching his wife.

  Lee, “Coffee’s fresh.”

  They fill their cups and Sam asks, “How may I help?”

  Ashley, “Crack eight eggs into that bowl, thanks.”

  Lee smiles, “Jeremiah and I are going to my office for a chat.”

  Jere visibly swallows and follows Lee out. When they get to Lee’s office, he closes the door and motions Jere to sit. “Your love for her is visible. A blind mute in a fog bank could see it. I’m happy for you. I’ve known Samantha for years. I’ve never, not once, known her to be this happy. For that, I thank you.”

  “Thank you, sir. May I have your blessing?”

  Lee smiles, “You’re doing this right. Good. Yes, you have my blessing, and my fondest hopes. When are you going to pop the question?”

  “I need to ask her grandfather. I’ve sent a letter to her father, but he’s overseas.”

  Lee nods, “I might be able to pull off a phone call. We’ll see. When do you plan to marry?”

  “I want to marry her yesterday, but I want to do it right. It’ll probably be after the war.”

  “Where are you from?”

  “Montana, sir.”

  “Big family?”

  “Mom, dad, my sister, and two sets of grandparents.”

  “Where do you think?”

  “I don’t know. We’ve never talked about it.”

  “Well, we managed to pull off Morrison’s wedding and that was a lot more people.”

  “I heard.”

  “Look, I know the war needs to end first, but I’m really looking forward to grandkids.”

  “Oh, well, that will be after the war, sir. But, yeah, I want kids. How about you, sir?”

  “It’s still early times, but we think Ashley’s pregnant. Hoping for sure.”

  “Congratulations, sir.”

  “To change the subject, I have three staff jobs to offer Sam, or the Black Knights. Which do you think she’ll choose?”

  Jere smiles, “Sir, that’s easy. The Black Knights.”

  “I agree. Let’s get breakfast.” They stand and Lee puts out his hand. “Jere, if you occasionally slip and call me dad, that would be fine. Real fine.”

  Jere shakes Lee’s hand, “Yes, sir. It’ll take some getting used to.”

  O’TOOLE STATION, AUSTRALIA

  0810, 26 December, 1942

  Alicia O’Toole and John Hunt hold hands as they walk in a horse pasture. Alicia looks at him, “What are you going to do after the war?”

  “I’ll probably leave the Corps. I’m an officer without a college degree. I want to go to college.”

  “Back in the US?”

  “Yes. I’ve a little brother who’s joining the Navy this summer. It’s just the two of us and we have a horse farm to run. Assuming we both survive.”

  “Isn’t that morbid?”

  “No, dear. Not for me. It’s practical.” He stops and takes both of her hands, “It’s a real possibility. Just because I survived before, does not mean I will survive this time.”

  “Would your parents approve of me?”

  “Yes, they would. You’re smart, beautiful, and you’re a damn fine horsewoman.”

  She smiles, delighted, “I want to meet them.”

  “Would you be willing to join me in America after the war?”

  “John Leigh Hunt, I will follow you anywhere. I will bear our children, cook your meals, clean your clothes, tend our home, raise our horses, and ride beside you all of my days.”

  He pulls her in and kisses her, “I love you, Alicia.”

  “I love you, John Hunt.”

  “Come on, we need to talk to your father.”

  LEE HOME, ARLINGTON, VIRGINIA

  1715, 25 December, 1942

  The Lee’s, Sam, and Jere come back to the house after delivering cookies and gifts to the NAVAIR duty officers in Washington and NAS Patuxent River with Bruce Bond, Donna, and Audrey. Ashley, “That was something. I loved it. Coffee and Christmas cake?” They all go into the kitchen and help Ashley make the coffee and serve the cake.

  When they’re settled in the living room, Lee sighs, “Well, Samantha, Swede stands up Carrier Air Group 12 the second week of January at Oceana. So, that problem is solved. It’ll be homeported at San Diego.

  “So, next thing, you have a choice of four billets: my chief of staff, Eisenhower’s air chief of staff, Halsey’s operations officer, or relieve Swede with the Black Knights. Which one is it?”

  “If I go back to the Knights, am I denying one of the guys a promotion?”

  “No, darlin’. Its lieutenant commanders are not ready. When they are, we’ll have commands for them. We’re just waiting on training and birds.”

  “Send me home, Dad.”

  “I thought so.”

  There’s a knock on the door. Ashley answers it and leads Admiral King into the living room. They all stand, “Coffee, Admiral?”

  King, “Please. Straight up.”

  Lee, “Admiral, I believe you’ve met Commander Samantha Hunt. May I introduce you to Lieutenant Jeremiah Buford?”

  King shakes Buford’s hand, “Sorry to interrupt your evening. I was hoping for a conversation with Commander Hunt.”

  Ashley walks in with another cup and pours for the admiral. “Sir, your coffee.”

  Sam, “A private conversation, sir?”

  King, “I would prefer it, yes.”

  Lee, “You’re welcome to my office, sir.”

  Sam leads King to the office and waits, standing.

  King smiles, “I’m not here to bite your head off, Commander.”

  “Yes, sir.” She sits down, her back straight.

  “Why won’t you have dinner at the White House?”

  “Sir, in the Navy, I am nothing. I’m one of thousands of commanders and one not suitable for promotion or recognition. I clearly do not deserve that honor.”

  “I think that’s for the President to decide.”

  Calmly, her face neutral, “I wouldn’t know. What I do know is this, I don’t matter and nothing I have done matters. I will not go.”

  “You would resign over this? It’s ridiculous.” He sits back, studying her.

  “Is it, sir? No woman, no matter what she does, no matter her successes, can be awarded for her efforts. You wouldn’t treat any man like you are treating me and all the women serving in the armed forces.” She takes a breath, “Is this how you would want your daughters treated?”

  “My daughters don’t serve.”

  “Have they gone to college?”

  “They have.”

  “So, they should never receive a degree because they’re women. They should just be thankful to attend.”

  “It’s not the same.”

  “I agree, sir. They didn’t risk their lives or kill the enemy to defend their country or our freedoms. Still, the comparison is apt.”

  He sighs, “You’d resign over this?”

  “Yes, sir.” Sam smiles, calmly meeting his gaze.

  “What would you do?”

  “The British appreciate what I did. Maybe their Air Force or Navy could use me. If not, I’d go home, raise horses, and write my memoir.”

  He blanches, “A memoir? No. You can’t leave the country, there would be riots in the ranks.”

  “What are you doing about it, sir?”

  “It’s congress. They’ve made it clear that women are not to be submitted for promotion beyond commander.”

  Again, she smiles, “The congressman and women I met in Britain seemed reasonable. I’m curious. Why would they deny all promotions just because a woman is on the promotion list? Very unreasonable. We all know it’s the whole promotion slate or nothing. That’s the law. So, what is really going on?” Realization hits her, “You haven’t submitted my name because you’re afraid.”

  King reddens, “We have to work with Congre
ss.”

  “I understand.”

  “Good. So, the White House?”

  “No, sir. I’m not worthy of your time or your support. I’m not worthy to have my name submitted to Congress. I’m not worthy enough to be recognized for my accomplishments. Therefore, I’m not worthy of a visit to the White House. I’m sorry you wasted your time on someone as inconsequential as me.”

  “Jesus Christ.”

  “I only tell the truth. I knew in my heart that my leadership would not support me, but I did my duty anyway. How many men would do that, Admiral? How many?” Sam starts taking her oak leaves off of her collar.

  King stands, “No. You’re a hard woman, Commander.”

  “Sir, I have to be. I wouldn’t be alive if was not. I want the lives I lost; the twenty-eight officers killed, wounded, or captured to mean something. You and Congress are telling me that I don’t matter, that the women who died under my command defending Britain do not matter, that those men do not matter simply because I’m a woman.”

  King meets her hard gaze and looks away, “Good day, Commander.” He walks out.

  “And you as well, sir.” She follows him down the stairs and watches as he makes his goodbyes to Lee and Ashley. She follows him out and watches his car drive away.

  Lee joins her on the porch, “The House?”

  “Yes. I said no. Dad, he hasn’t even tried to submit my name for promotion because one or two congressmen are against it.”

  He looks at her, “I was under the impression that he had.” He puts his arm around her shoulder, “You leaving the Navy?”

  “No. He didn’t cross that line. I think he understands now that I don’t bluff. He called me a hard woman. Dad, am I that hard?”

  “Yes, and no. You’re principled. In that sense, ‘hard’ is synonymous with strong and good. You demand that your leaders do their job. It’s your right to do so. He thought it would be easier to move you than to move Congress. Now, he must do what he should have done in the first place. He’s just whining about it.”

  “Have I created an enemy?”

  “Don’t worry about it. This whole thing exists in the greater context of the change Craig and I are pushing down his throat. He’s embraced some of it, and screamed about some of it. In the end, we generally get what we want. Change is hard, honey. Some people handle it better than others. This thing is outside of both Craig’s and my purview, so he thought he could push back. He was hoping to keep Congress happy about this one thing. He just found out different.”