They sailed on the narrow seas fringed by green jungles crowded into steep banks. “That’s New Guinea,” Carr nodded confidently.
“How do you know that?”
“I was talking to one of the swab jockeys, and that’s what he said.” He pointed and said, “Look, there’s a harbor!”
There was no more time for talk. Will, along with the rest of the marines, grabbed at their belongings and gear. The crew swung the landing craft free of their davits, and lowered them into the water. The marines were drawn up on deck and at a command clambered over the side, down the cargo nets, into the boats, and finally ashore.
This was no uninhabited island. There were a few buildings thrown together, and a harbormaster stood on the beach bellowing into his megaphone to direct the unloading, and there were lines of olive-green trucks waiting to carry the marines and their stores inland. But first the ships had to be unloaded. As this took place, Will looked out over the green wilderness that lay ahead and murmured, “I wonder how many Japs are up there?”
Bobby Carr grinned at him and cocked his head to one side. He looked no more than seventeen as the sunlight fell across his fair features and caught the reddish tinge of his hair. “Enough to go around, Buddy,” he said cheerfully. “Enough to go around.”
Wendy’s head jolted forward as the tires of the C54 slammed down on the runway. She heard the screeching of the brakes and the rattling, shuttering sound of the engine shutting down, and she straightened up as the big plane slowed to a stop.
“Well, we made it!” Mona said cheerfully as she unstrapped her safety belt and stood up. She was wearing marine fatigues, the camouflage model, and her bright, golden hair cascaded down from under the marine fatigue cap, giving her an incongruous look. She had managed, however, to get the smallest size uniform available, which had taken some doing. Wendy had taken what was given her and was practically swallowed by the outfit. When she got up she laughed and said, “When I stand up, these fatigues are still sitting down.”
The two women made their way off the airplane amid the hubbub of the other members of the troupe. They were helped down by two tall marines bearing submachine guns.
Mona gave the taller of the two a dazzling smile and said, “Is there likely to be action, Sergeant?”
The sergeant grinned broadly. “This is just to protect you, Honey. All these guys out here aren’t safe. They haven’t seen a woman in so long they’ve almost forgotten what one looks like.”
The other marine helped Wendy down and asked in a soft southern accent, “Did y’all have a good flight, Miss?”
“Very nice, Sergeant, thank you.” Wendy turned a win-some smile on him and saw him respond immediately. “Will you be at the performance tonight?”
“Yes, every man on the island that ain’t pullin’ guard duty will be there; you can bet on that! We’ve been lookin’ forward to this show a long time.”
“I hope you’re not disappointed.”
The tall southerner grinned. “That ain’t possible, Ma’am! You wait and see; you’ll get applause like you’ve never heard before.”
Bradley stepped down out of the plane and came over and put his arm around Mona in an intimate gesture. “I guess I’d better be your protector. On the other hand, it looks like these fellows are armed to do the job. Where do we go, Alex?”
Alex Grenville had descended carrying a briefcase. “Beats me,” he said, “but I guess somebody will be here to take care of us.”
He had no sooner said this than a short major came up and saluted. “Well, we’re glad to receive you here at the base,” he said. “I’m Major Cox. If you folks will come with me, we’ll help you get set up. Need any help with the gear and the instruments?”
“We could use some,” Alex said quickly. “Our folks wear out so quickly moving equipment that they’re too tired to toot their horns.”
Major Cox took over at once, and the four men that had been assigned to move the sound equipment and the rest of the gear for the troupe had an easy time of it.
Major Cox said, “The performance will have to be outside, I’m afraid. We don’t have anything big enough for an auditorium to put all the men in. It’ll be right over there.”
Wendy looked where the major was pointing and saw that a platform had been built, set up on poles made of palm tree trunks. The sun overhead was brilliant, and she blinked as she saw dark-skinned people mingling with the marines, who were eyeing the troupe avidly. “Are those the natives, Major Cox?”
“Yes, Ma’am, fierce lookin’ bunch, ain’t they? But they’re peaceful now—at least those we let into the camp. I wouldn’t be surprised,” he mused, “if they hadn’t cut off a head or two in their times. Maybe a little cannibalism on the side, but we’ve got ’em tamed down pretty well.”
Danny Brothers had just stepped up beside them, and he gave a disgruntled look at the situation, but he brightened at once and said, “Well, what time will the show be, Major?”
“How long will it take you to get set up?”
Alex, who was the leader in matters like this said, “It’ll take at least three or four hours, I’m afraid.”
“Well, by that time you can all get rested up. It was a long flight, I guess.”
“We touched down on two other islands during the past few days,” Alex said. “One in Australia, so we’re just now getting the troupe shaking together where it comes out all right.”
Major Cox shook his head. “Whatever you do will be all right with my boys, Mr. Grenville. They’re hungry for entertainment. I’ll be sittin’ in the front row myself when you put on your show.”
Wendy and the others were escorted to two small Quon-set huts that had been converted into dressing rooms. There were cots inside, too, but the heat was so stifling that neither one of the women could lie down. They did manage to take a bath of sorts in a shower that had been improvised out of an empty oil drum. Holes had been punched in the bottom and it was mounted up on a tree. The enterprising Major Cox had arranged a tall shelter of canvas to be thrown around it so that the women could pour water out of buckets into the oil drum, and it was better than nothing. When they had bathed and had put on dresses instead of the fatigues, Mona and Wendy left the others and, with a marine guard, took a quick look at the fortifications. Both young women were aware of the stares of the marines. “It seems like they’ve all found something to do just so they could take a look at us, doesn’t it?” Mona giggled.
The stares were a little bit disconcerting to Wendy and she shook her head. “I feel sorry for all of them. They’re so far from home and have a long war ahead of them. I know they miss their mothers and sisters.”
“They’re not thinking of mothers and sisters when they look at us,” Mona said archly. “That’s not what they’ve got in their eyes.”
Wendy did not answer, but later on in the afternoon, she found herself talking to one of the guards attached to keep order during the performance. His name was Leonard Scott, and he came from Wichita, Kansas. He was also, Wendy discovered, one of the most homesick young men she had ever seen. He was bashful, which surprised her, for she did not know there were any bashful marines. Finally she got him talking about his home and found out that he was engaged but couldn’t get married until he got a leave.
“That may be quite a while,” he said. “We’ve got a lot of Japs to get rid of before we get to go home.”
“What’s your fiancée’s name, Leonard?”
“Mary.” He grinned at her, saying, “It’s simple, isn’t it? So many fancy names going around, but I like that name.”
“So do I,” Wendy said. “Will you be at the performance tonight?”
“Why, sure! I’ll be on guard duty to keep these gyrenes from going for you folks. Why?”
“Well, sometime during the performance I’m going to sing a song, and it’ll be just for you and Mary.”
“Gee, that’ll be something, Miss Stuart.”
At five o’clock the performance began, and it went sensationall
y well. As Major Cox indicated, the troops were thrilled at anything in the way of entertainment. They applauded until their hands hurt, or so it seemed, when Rob Bradley and Mona did their specialty together. They sang romantic songs, or at least Rob did; then they danced, which was something to see. Until the tour, Wendy had not known what an accomplished dancer Mona was, but now as the two moved from fast jitterbugs to ballroom waltzes to fast South American sambas, she was amazed at the young woman’s grace, and her beauty dominated the small stage.
After they finished, Danny Brothers came and had the marines in stitches with his jokes about the accommodations on the island. He was very good, Brothers was, at this kind of thing—as good as Bob Hope, in a way, although not as well known. Carlos and Lolita were warmly received as were Lori and Cathy DeMarco with their acrobatic dances.
Alex stood beside Wendy as she moved close to the band. Twice she came out and sang light opera numbers and some hits from Broadway plays—not that the marines knew them, but they were light and easily sung. When the performance was coming to an end she said, “Alex, could I change this last number a little?” It was the final number on the program, and she remembered her promise to Leonard Scott.
“Why, sure.”
She turned to the band and said, “Fellows, do you know that old Cohan tune, ‘Mary’?”
The drummer sent his stick up in a whirling spin, caught it adeptly, and grinned. “That’s from the old days, but I know it. We can fake it. Do what you want to Wendy, and we’ll be with you.”
Wendy heard her name being called by Danny Brothers and went out to take her spot. She was wearing a simple white dress and did not have the spectacular beauty of the other women. She was well aware of this, but she was also well aware that young men at war were thinking of mothers, sisters, and sweethearts. She said, “This song is for one young man. He’s right there.” She pointed to Leonard, who blushed to the roots of his hair. “Leonard is going to marry a young woman when he gets home, and I know that some of the rest of you probably are thinking of your sweethearts. All of you are here to serve your country, and I can only speak now for myself, but I know that if the entire population were here from America, they would say what I have to say.” She paused and all was quiet. “Thank you so much for making it possible for there to be a country like America. Without you, there would not be.”
Wendy hesitated, then nodded at the band, and began singing, “For it was Mary, Mary, plain as any name could be.” The melody was sweet, and her voice was strong and clear, and when she finished the song, she went over and gave Leonard a kiss on the cheek and said, “You tell Mary that that’s from her, Leonard.”
A wild yell went up, and there was loud applause, and she knew that Leonard Scott would never forget this moment.
“That was a good thing to do,” Alex said as he stood next to her. The troops were still cheering and calling her name, “Wendy! Wendy, more!” “You’ll have to do one more,” he said. “Any choice?”
“Yes.” She looked at the band and leaned over, saying loudly, “Follow me if you can.”
Going back to the microphones she stood there and without a word began to sing, “Amazing grace—how sweet the sound—that saved a wretch like me! I once was lost but now am found, was blind but now I see.”
Before she had gotten very far, the male voices joined her, and soon the whole crew of marines was singing the old song that they had learned, many of them, when they were boys in Sunday schools back in America.
When Wendy sang the last note, her throat was tight and tears were in her eyes. “God bless you and keep you, everyone!”
There was much applause as the performers moved away. Major Cox came to stand beside Wendy, and she was surprised to see that he had tears in his eyes. “I’m a Christian, Miss Stuart,” he said. “Many of the boys are out there—and those that aren’t, they heard something during this performance they won’t soon forget. Thank you for your witness to the Lord Jesus.”
Alex heard the major. He said nothing as he walked with Wendy, accompanying her through the ranks of marines that were still applauding and calling their names. Finally, he leaned over and said, “You’ll never do better than that, Wendy.”
Wendy looked at Alex with surprise. She saw that he was moved and said, “Why, thank you, Alex.” There was no more said, but she knew that the moment meant something to Alex, more than he acknowledged, and she was glad that she had sung that last song.
Wendy stepped out of the C54 and was never more shocked in her life, for there in front of her stood her brother Will. He was wearing marine fatigues, like most of the rest, and the grin exposed his white teeth against his brown face. “Will!” she said, and broke away from the group to throw herself in his arms. Wolf whistles went up, and wolf howls, but Wendy did not hear them.
“I was hoping I’d see you!” she exclaimed, holding onto him, stepping back.
“I been hoping the same thing,” Will nodded. “I got myself promoted to head of the guard detail to take care of all of you Hollywood actresses.”
“Oh, I’m not one of those! Come on; I want you to meet the group.”
Alex was surprised but pleased to see Will. He said, “This is some little sister you’ve got here. She could be singing in the Met for all I’m concerned, but she’d rather be out here with you fellas.”
“I’m glad of that,” Will said. He remembered his father talking about the romance that Wendy had had with Alex, but he did not mention it. Inwardly he was thinking, I wonder what this all means? Have these two gotten back together again?
“Come along; I’ve got a lot to tell you!” Wendy said after she had proudly introduced Will to all of the troupe.
Will said, “All right, but I want you to meet somebody first. This is Bobby Carr.” He turned to Bobby, who also had been given status as a guard for the troupe. “He’s pulled me out of more than one scrape on Guadalcanal, saved me from drowning once.”
“I didn’t get a medal for it, though,” Bobby said. He jerked his hat off and bowed. “Hey, I didn’t believe Will when he said he had a sister that was a star, but he wasn’t lying to me!”
“You come along, and I’ll introduce you to two of the prettiest girls you ever saw, Bobby.” Wendy turned Carr over to the two vivacious young acrobatic dancers, Lori and Cathy, and when she left with Will, hanging onto his arm, Carr was already beginning to tell how he was the hero of Guadalcanal.
“Those women better watch out for themselves. Bobby’s quite a ladies’ man,” Will cautioned.
“I think they’re used to it. We’ve been touring for three weeks now, and at the last count I think those girls have had 726 offers of marriage—other offers, too, I imagine.” Wendy looked up at this tall marine who was her brother, and her heart warmed. “I want to hear everything, all about Guadalcanal, if you don’t mind talking about it.”
“I don’t mind, but first I want to hear about everybody at home.”
The troupe had been scheduled to perform twice, but it turned out that they performed four times. Every man on the island within walking distance came to one or other of the performances.
Will attended them all, of course, as a guard, and after the first one he asked, “Do you always sing a hymn at the end of the performance?”
“Yes, I just did it once because I wanted to do something like that, but the marines liked it so much that I did it again.”
“Well, we try to be tough,” he said, “but we’re just like everybody else. We need to hear that kind of thing, about the Lord.”
The two talked constantly, and finally Wendy admitted, “I’m afraid that Mona is getting too involved with Rob Bradley.”
“He seems like a nice enough fella,” Will observed.
“He is, but he’s got the show business morality. I’m afraid for her, Will,” Wendy said simply.
“I never knew Mona that well, but she’s so beautiful. That must be a bit of a handicap for a young woman to have good looks like that.”
“I don’t believe that for a moment.” Will hesitated then asked, “What about you and Grenville?”
“Oh, I didn’t even know he was going to be with the tour. He was a last-minute choice when someone else got sick.”
“I’ve noticed him, Wendy, during the performances. He’s always watching you. Even when you’re not performing. You two have got some kind of chemistry.”
“We’re good friends, I suppose. I admire him tremendously, and he’s a wonderful musician.”
Will knew that there was more to it than that but said no more. This was the last night, and he did not want to spoil it by bringing up anything unpleasant. “Well,” he said, “I wish you could stay longer. I’m looking forward to the last performance.”
“Where’s your friend Bobby; is he gone?”
“Oh, he’s been here all right. He and that Cathy DeMarco have gotten thick as fleas. I think he’s proposed to her, too, but so far she’s turned him down. She likes him, but everybody likes Bobby.”
“You think a great deal of him, don’t you?”
“Well, he saved my life. You can’t hate a guy like that.” Then more seriously he said, “I wish he knew the Lord, but he won’t listen to me. He’s not ready yet.” He looked over the island at the many marines that were milling around preparing for the last performance and shook his head. “It’s hard for me to understand, Wendy, how men can face death and not know God. To know they might be thrown out into eternity to suffer forever. It seems like many of them have just locked that part of their minds and their hearts away. They’ve gotten hard, and it breaks my heart sometimes when guys who ought to be at home living normal lives just go out like that!” He snapped his fingers.
“It must be awful,” Wendy whispered. “I’ll pray for Bobby and for you, too, Will.”
The performance began as usual. It went well, as it always did. Alex was standing in front of the band, leading, as they played a soft tune for one of Wendy’s solos, when suddenly his keen ear picked up something. “What’s that?” he said aloud.
Winds of Change Page 23
