BRAT and the Kids of Warriors

by Michael Joseph Lyons

  Jack nodded. He was really glad Charlie was around.

  By whatever miracle of the gods, that day actually went okay. And it was Friday.

  At least it went okay till they were headed for the bus home. That’s when Kerrigan made a point of ramming Jack into Charlie.

  Over his shoulder Kerrigan yelled, “Don’t worry, McMasters. I haven’t forgotten about you. We’re still gonna go the rounds, you and me. And as for you, Charlie Carron, yours is coming, too. You don’t really think I’m gonna forget you helped Panty-waist McMasters yesterday, do ya?”

  Before either had a chance to react, Kerrigan was gone.

  “Just ignore him,” said Sam, when she caught up with them. “What are you two gonna do when you get home?”

  Almost without thinking, Jack said, “Were going down to explore the airport.”

  “Yeah,” Charlie said, as if they’d been planning it all afternoon.

  “By airport, you mean der Flugplatz, right?” Sam asked, wanting to make sure she knew where they were headed.

  “Yeah, yeah, Sam, the Flugplatz,” Charlie said.

  “Okay, maybe I’ll see you down there.”

  They went to Charlie’s to get refueled. Mrs. Carron fed them cut-up apples and different kinds of lunch meat. Good stuff. Not as good as her pasta, but still better than what Jack would have gotten from his mom.

  “We need to explore the airport,” said Jack. “We gotta figure out how everything works down there. What did Sam call that place?”

  “Flugplatz. It’s what the Germans call it. Not sure what it means, except that in German class I did learn that Platz means place.

  Jack thought about that for a minute. If Platz meant place, then that left Flug. He figured that must mean fly. So translated, Flugplatz meant fly-place. He liked that.

  They headed through the open field across from The Glass House and into the small woods beyond. Jack led Charlie to the lookout spot he’d found the other night. But despite the amazing view beyond the cliff, they didn’t get too close to the edge; it was a sheer, three-story drop.

  Jack said, “Perfect spot for us to build a fort. Don’t ya think?”

  Charlie nodded. “Great lookout. Very secluded. But I don’t see any obvious way to do it. The trees are too big to climb, so a tree fort is out.”

  Jack smirked. “That’ll be our engineering challenge for next spring when the snow melts.” He studied the airfield below.

  They made their way along the horseshoe-shaped cliff till they came to where it wasn’t quite so high and the drop-off was less steep. Charlie watched tensely as Jack stretched out on his stomach into the snow, edging his legs over the side of the cliff.

  “You sure about that, Jack? There’s a path that goes around through the woods.”

  Jack was nowhere near sure, but he said, “Show me another time. I want to try this.” He pushed off over the cliff, first sliding on his stomach, then tumbling head over heels, and finally sliding to the bottom on his butt. Seeing that Jack had survived, Charlie reluctantly followed. Like Jack’s descent, his was a bit out of control.

  “That was okay, I guess,” Charlie said, out of breath and surprised to be in one piece.

  Jack gave him a grin.

  Then they turned their backs on that impossibly high cliff. They had no idea how they’d get back up the incline, but for the moment they didn’t care.

  They cautiously waded through snow-crusted brush to make their way toward the big airplane hangar, only to hear Sam Sands yell, “We’ll see you guys down on the side of the airfield.”

  How could anyone know their whereabouts?

  “She musta spotted us from up on the cliff,” said Charlie. “You said it was a great lookout spot.”

  “She’d better pipe down or she’ll blow our cover.”

  Jack and Charlie made their way to the back of the structure to begin exploring.

  The hangar was huge. It had no doors on the back side, but windows covered the entire upper arch, reaching all the way to the roof, too high for anyone to see through.

  Learning nothing, they rounded the corner and found a couple of very dirty windows closer to the ground. The boys were just tall enough to peek inside. Because the lights were on, they could make out several helicopters. Two Army guys in overalls were moving around one.

  Charlie barely whispered, “Don’t move a muscle or they’ll spot us.”

  “I know. Let’s stay put. Looks like routine maintenance.” Jack and Charlie were in spy mode, motionless, unobserved.

  They nearly jumped out of their skins when something tapped them on the shoulder. They whipped around to see Sam and another girl.

  Shaken, the boys slowly backed away from the window.

  Clearly delighted to have scared the snot out of the boys, Sam said, “We took the trail that goes through the woods.”

  “Oh, you took the long way,” Charlie said, grinning at Jack. Then he introduced him to the other girl, whose name was Jayla Jones. She was thin and wiry, with dark-brown skin and jet black hair.

  Jack brought both girls up to speed on their recon mission.

  “A what?” asked Jayla, a bit bemused.

  “Recon,” said Jack. “You know, a reconnaissance mission. A mission designed to gain intelligence. And not get caught.”

  Jayla, not exactly a slow child, immediately nodded. In fact, it didn’t take Jack long to realize she was extremely bright. This was disconcerting, since she gave Sam a skeptical glance that said, You sure about this guy?

  But Jayla and Sam followed the boys around to the front of the hangar. There they found two huge doors that could be rolled up to let aircraft in or out. Both doors were closed, but the Flugplatz obviously was open for business, because the snow had been cleared off the tarmac, as well as from one runway.

  Not far from the building was a huge earth mover, with enormous tires and a large blade. Clearly this was the Army’s version of a snow plow. It was parked and unattended. Beyond the runway was an air-traffic-control tower. On top they could see a curved panel spinning round and round.

  Sam asked, “What’s that thing up there?”

  “Everyone, back up very slowly,” Jack said. “Right now!” They heard the alarm in his voice and watched as he retraced his steps. They promptly obeyed.

  “Why’d we need to do that?” asked Jayla once they were safely behind the building.

  “That was a radar tracking station,” Jack said, as if the situation were obvious.

  “Soooo?” Jayla didn’t find that any kind of answer.

  “It’s their eyes in the skies. With it they can see approaching aircraft, and track their direction and speed.”

  “How do you know all that?” challenged Sam.

  “I saw one like it on the ship coming over.” He told them about Commander Knox and the USS Upshur’s tracking systems and how there was probably a round screen up in that tower with a light green line of light going around it, showing bleeping dots of light if any aircraft were approaching. “They can probably see at least ten miles from the base.”

  “So why’d we have to get outta there?” demanded Sam. ‘We’re not approaching aircraft.”

  “Because the tower was manned,” said Jayla. “The radar was spinning. Someone might have spotted us out in front of the building.”

  “Exactly,” Jack said, surprised at how fast she’d caught on. Who are you, Jayla Jones?

  Jayla further impressed him by guessing his thoughts. She gave him a little wink.

  They eased around to the back of the hangar and over to the other side. There, again, they found a set of dirty windows. But this time the windows were a little too high. So Jack leaned back against the wall and put his hands together to give Charlie a leg up. Stretching, Charlie got a momentary peek, before ducking and jumping back to the ground.

&nbs
p; “Two guys were sitting at a small table drinking coffee,” he whispered, “but they just got up and I think they’re headed this way. Let’s go!”

  Faster than saying Jack Robinson, the four got behind the building. Charlie peeked around the corner. “Two GIs coming right for us.”

  Sure they were about to be busted, with nowhere to run and nowhere to hide, the four brats pressed up against the wall.

  But the two men stopped before they rounded the corner of the building.

  “Let me bum a smoke,” came a voice not three feet from where they stood. They could hear a match being struck.

  “I heard a good one the other day,” came another voice. “Ya know how no one really knows if Hitler died at the end of the war, ’cause his body was never found?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Well, supposedly, a bunch of the old Nazis found out he’s still alive and living in South America. So they go over there to convince him to come back so Germany can take over the world.”

  “And?”

  “And Hitler says he’ll do it. But under one condition.”

  “Which is?”

  “Hitler says, ‘This time, no more Mr. Nice Guy.’”

  Both soldiers began laughing. Then, to the brats’ relief, the men slowly headed back into the building.

  “That was too close!” whispered Sam.

  “Way too close,” said Jayla. “Let’s get up that hill and into the woods before we really do get busted.”

  Once safely among the trees, they crouched in the frozen undergrowth. They were now hard to spot, but the leafless trees afforded them a decent view. Out beyond the hangar they could see a huge, round cylinder lying on its side and raised up on iron legs. A big hose dangled from it like an elephant’s trunk.

  “That’s got to be the aircraft fueling station,” said Charlie.

  Jack’s mind was racing. Relieved they hadn’t gotten busted, and at the same time excited by what they’d figured out, Jack couldn’t just turn it all off. He saw a white, two-story, u-shaped building beyond the aircraft hangar. Most of its windows glowed yellow. He knew people were working in there, because lots of cars were parked outside. Besides, an American flag hung from a giant pole in front of the building. He pointed to the building. “What’s that place?”

  “That’s Headquarters 4th Armored Division,” said Sam.

  “So all the brass are in there?”

  “Yup, commander of 4th Armored is a two-star general.”

  Almost to himself, Jack said, “So when the tanks roll, that’s where the order comes from.”

  “That’s the place,” came back Jayla’s voice in a whisper.

  Finally Jack whispered, “I think we have the lay of the land. Let’s get outta here.”

  Jack checked his watch. He knew the drill. The people inside wouldn’t leave until “Retreat” was blown and the Stars and Stripes were lowered at seventeen hundred hours, sharp.

  Slowly, four cold bodies strained to get back on their feet. They gingerly followed Sam as she headed for her secret path. But she hadn’t gone far when she suddenly stopped, dropping to one knee. In that same movement she raised her right arm, forming her hand into a fist. This, as most Army brats know, is the infantry signal to stop, get low, remain silent; the person on point has spotted enemy activity.

  They each soundlessly took a knee, remained motionless, and kept a wary eye out for activity ahead.

  Sam lowered her arm, and turned to make eye contact. Without saying a word, she brought the fist up to her face and extended her index and middle finger toward her eyes. Then she lifted just one finger upward and pointed it off to a ridge above them. These were Infantry signals communicating that she had spotted one enemy up and to their left.

  They each nodded understanding.

  Pointing at Jack and Charlie, she made a little walking motion with two fingers. They were to work their way up and around in order to get a better look. She signaled for Jayla to stay put.

  Jack wasn’t sure if this was a game or a real problem. Opting to take it seriously, he and Charlie remained low and inched soundlessly backwards. Then, slowly, they made their way around and up the hill. But then, Jack felt a wave of apprehension; in the woods just below them stood a man. He had on a short, dark coat and a dark hat. The brim covered most of his face, so Jack couldn’t really see what the guy looked like. But one thing was certain: he wasn’t just a hiker in the woods. First, he was too well dressed. Second, he stood perfectly still, not moving a muscle. All his concentration was on the airfield and the headquarters building. Clearly, the brats weren’t the only ones watching the comings and goings down there.

  Jack glanced at Charlie. For once the playfulness had left his friend’s eyes. They showed fear. While down at the hangar, the boys might have been concerned about getting busted for being someplace they shouldn’t be. But this? This was different. This guy radiated danger. There was something truly scary about him. Ever so slowly, ever so quietly, Jack and Charlie retreated. Working their way back to within twenty feet of the girls, Jack signaled them. Pointing two fingers to his eyes, he then held one finger up and nodded yes. Next, he used two fingers in a walking motion to communicate that they should back away, circle around, and come up the hill.

  When they met up, Jack put a finger to his lips. He signaled for them to continue crawling up the steep embankment. It took ten painful minutes to reach the path. Getting to their feet, they double-timed it out of there. The tension didn’t ease until they’d made it to the clearing in front of The Glass House.

  “What was that all about?” asked Jayla, obviously rattled.

  “I don’t know, but, well, look, you know those two GIs down at the hangar? They might have been joking about Hitler coming back to power, but that guy on the hill was no joke,” said Jack. His eyes darted back to where they’d just come from, as if he expected the guy to appear at any moment. “Let’s go to my place. We have to figure this out.”

  Inside the front door, everyone peeled off their snowsuits. They made a kid-sized pile on the boot tray, but at least they had somewhere to melt. Jack was glad they’d been so careful when his mom came into the hallway. He introduced Sam and Jayla.

  “What have you four been up to?” she asked.

  Jack limited his response to “Hiking in the woods.” Then, to deflect further questions, he said, “Mom, can we have cocoa?”

  He wasn’t all that hopeful she’d agree, because she was right in the middle of making dinner, but it was worth a shot. It surprised him when she smiled and actually said okay. As she poured the milk into a pan, they disappeared to Jack’s room.

  Once the door closed, Sam immediately started in with, “Who do you think he was?”

  “And what was he doing there?” wondered Charlie.

  Jack agreed. “Something doesn’t feel right about this.”

  So many questions. They sat on his bed collecting their thoughts. Ever so slowly, Jack said, “We know what we were doing there. We were spying on the place. But what was that guy doing there? Was he spying on the place, too?” He exhaled. “Let’s see what we can figure out about him. Like, for instance, he was definitely a man, not a woman. Right?”

  “No question about that,” said Sam. “I only saw him for a moment, but he was definitely a man.”

  “Also, I didn’t get the impression he was US Army,” said Charlie. “We didn’t stick around long once we spotted him, but I’m pretty certain he wasn’t in uniform. And I mean, come on. How many Army guys go around dressed in civilian clothes when they’re on base? Am I right?”

  “You’re right,” said Sam. “So probably not Army. Let’s see. What was he wearing? I remember a dark coat.”

  “And he had on a brimmed hat, kinda like Dick Tracy’s. I remember because the brim kept me from seeing his face,” said Jack.

  “Yeah,” said Sam.
“Now that you mention his hat, things are starting to come back to me. Like his hat was kinda dark, but not black. In fact, I think it was dark green, and the fabric of that hat was different from the kind my dad wears. It was more like a fuzzy felt or something.”

  “Wow, Sam! You are so on the stick. Leave it to you to register the fashion stuff.” Jayla said it good naturedly.

  “You’re also right about the dark coat,” Jack said. “But it was pretty short.”

  “So?” Charlie said.

  “Well, most men don’t wear short coats. They all have long ones that cover their suits. Right?” suggested Jayla.

  “Yeah. Now that you mention it, I guess that’s right,” said Charlie. “But what does that tell us?”

  “It means he wasn’t American!” said Jack. “He was dressed more like a German than an American. He was German, or from some other foreign country.”

  “Probably German, and not military,” recapped Jayla.

  No one said anything for a few moments. Then slowly, Jack said, almost to himself, “No, I don’t think that’s right. I actually think he was military—just not US military. Okay, maybe he was dressed like a German civilian, but he didn’t act like a civilian. Remember how he stood. Did you see how straight he was? how little he moved? how completely silent he was? That takes discipline. To me he seemed military. But whose military?”

  “Okay, if he’s German military, or someone else’s military,” said Charlie, “what’s he doing on a US military installation? Someone all alone, watching the airfield and the Headquarters Building of 4th Armored Division? Doesn’t add up.”

  “Minimum, he’s a shady character. Worst case, I say he’s a spy,” said Jayla.

  Jack’s mom entered the room. She was carrying cups of cocoa on a tray. The marshmallows floating on top were just beginning to melt.

  There was a chorus of sincere thank-yous. Mrs. McMasters seemed pleased.