The Cadet

by Doug Beason

  “Hey!” Rod protested in mock indignation.

  “The Academy’s in Colorado Springs, don’t you know? And CU is in Boulder.” She bobbed him on the nose with her index finger, ran it down his cheek … then slowly down his neck to his chest. She used both hands to start massaging him, then leaned over to whisper in his ear. “How about finding a deserted area in these stacks.”

  Rod glanced around. They’d been left alone the entire time, but there was still a chance that someone might stumble on them. And then it would be back out on the tour pad for who knows how many more hours of mindlessly marching.

  And more importantly, it would be hours that he wouldn’t be able to see Julie.

  He urged her to stand and she slid off his lap. “I’ll walk you to your car. That’s about the only other place I can go that won’t get me in trouble.”

  She smiled, then stepped back and slowly unbuttoned her long coat to hold it wide open.

  His eyes widened; his heart pounded so loudly he thought everyone in the library might hear. He looked hastily around. Thank goodness they were still alone; he’d be marching tours for the rest of his life if anyone saw her.

  “No sense of adventure tonight, Mr. Cadet?”

  He swallowed. “I … I need to graduate. I can’t afford to school-hop.”

  “I guess the back seat of a car is better than nothing, then.”

  He closed her coat and kissed her. “Oh, my gosh. With you it’s like being at the Fairmont.”

  “You’ve been there? In San Francisco?”

  Rod drew in a breath. He wondered why he said that; he hadn’t thought of Barbara in weeks. On the surface, the two girls were alike—they were both stunningly beautiful and they had strong personalities. But that’s where the similarity ended. From the short time Rod had known Barbara, she’d come across as a much deeper thinker, someone who pondered the big issues in life, and she had wanted to make a difference in the world. Julie, on the other hand, seemed content to enjoy partying; he sometimes wondered why he was so attracted to her, but as he looked at her, his body quivered.

  “Just once.” He drew her close and she enveloped him in her coat. He felt her warm body press against him. “After I graduate I’ll take you there.”

  She breathed, “You’ve got a deal. Let’s pretend we’re checking into the Fairmont.”

  They gathered their books, kept a respectful distance, and left the library.

  Rod forgot all about the upcoming GR, but made it back to his room before taps.

  And in the meantime, he rediscovered why he was so attracted to her.

  ***

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “Don’t Forbid Me”

  January, 1958

  United States Air Force Academy

  Lowry Field, CO

  ’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.

  —Samuel Butler, British writer

  “Hey, Rod.” The tap at the door didn’t register. It was Sunday night and the upperclassmen had returned from Christmas break. Rod and Sly were unpacking their gear, but Rod was deep in his thoughts, thinking of Julie as he had been most of the last two weeks.

  The two-week break had seemed both infinitely long and incredibly short. Rod had missed seeing Julie, and just like every time he returned to the Academy, he had a knot at the bottom of his stomach, knowing that he’d returned to the dreaded cadet “system.”

  Luckily the weather had cooperated. The only snow was on the Front Range, miles to the west, which had made traveling easy, but it was miserably cold, lugging his duffle bag across the wind swept campus.

  Once again, Barbara had spent the break with relatives in Oregon, but this time Rod hadn’t even bothered to answer her letter. Julie had captured his heart and his mind.

  It didn’t help Rod’s mood knowing that Julie wouldn’t return to CWC from her home in Virginia for another week. They’d spoken every day on the telephone over the break, and each time he heard her voice, he ached for her.

  Life didn’t excite him anymore. He didn’t enjoy the bull sessions with his classmates, staying after the evening meal to have a cigarette, or even planning for one of the pranks his class would pull—all he did was look forward to seeing Julie, the times when he could be close, to caress her hair, hear her laugh, and end the night by being intimate in her car or somewhere else on campus.

  “Rod! Did you bring your mind back or is it still on break?” Jeff Goldstein stood at the door, looking like a giant in the doorframe. Normally shooting hoops in a constant push to increase his shot percentage, Jeff looked irritated at having to perform an extra duty. He wore the epaulet around his shoulder signifying that he was the cadet senior officer of the day.

  “Sorry. What’s up?”

  “Captain Ranch wants to see you in his office. ASAP.”

  “Any idea what he wants?”

  “No, but he looked pissed.”

  Rod frowned. “Thanks.” He put down the underwear he was folding and turned to the mirror to straighten his tie. Goldstein disappeared to finish making his rounds.

  Rod guessed that Goldstein had shown up early at the Academy after break and had been tapped as the SOD. Either that, or else the guy had never left campus over Christmas and stayed in the gym.

  Rod knew that Jeff didn’t have much to go home to in the Bronx, and since his mother spent most of her time working just to make ends meet, what money he could save and send home by not traveling for the holidays must go a long way. Normally the officers on staff would invite cadets over during the holiday if they stayed on campus, but this year Rod hadn’t paid attention.

  He hadn’t paid much attention to anything, except for Julie.

  Rod knocked once on Captain Ranch’s door.

  “Enter.”

  Rod stepped inside, saluted. “Sir, Cadet Second class Simone, reporting.”

  “Have a seat, Rod.”

  “Thank you, sir.” Rod sat in one of Ranch’s yellow plastic chairs.

  Captain Ranch sat behind his desk. Reconfigured as an AOC’s office, his room looked even larger than when he’d lived in the cadet area as a surrogate upperclassman. The picture of Shen Too, now his wife, was still on his desk. Paintings and a silk screen from Japan adorned one corner, but without the bed and chest of drawers, the room seemed less inviting and more intimidating.

  When Captain Justice had been assigned to fly B-52s, the whole squadron had been excited about Captain Ranch taking his place; but now, it was as though Captain Ranch had assumed a different persona, one more aloof from the intimate dealings he’d had with the cadets when he’d been their ATO.

  Ranch leaned back in his chair. “How was Christmas?”

  “Fine, sir.”

  “Did you get a lot of rest?”

  “Yes, sir. I caught upon my sleep, studied for finals, and spent time with my folks.”

  “And how are your parents?”

  What’s he leading up to? Rod thought. He twisted his face, remembering Hank’s continuing lectures about the Delantes. “They’re okay, sir. I went out to the construction site. The place is changing fast.”

  “I was down there myself.” Captain Ranch rocked forward. “If the weather keeps up I think your class will be able to move into the new campus this summer. Your father has done a heck of a job, Rod.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Rod said without enthusiasm.

  “When your class moves in, everyone will owe him a debt.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Captain Ranch put his elbows on his desk and looked dead serious. “And if you get to move in with your class, you’ll probably be the luckiest cadet alive.”

  Rod looked up sharply. “Excuse me, sir?”

  He shoved a paper across his desk. “Here. These are your pre-semester grades.”

  Rod picked up the sheet and glanced down the columns. He felt lightheaded, almost surreal, as he read. I—an Incomplete—was listed for every class, with the phrase “current recommended grade�
�� of F or D posted next to it.

  Captain Ranch’s voice came through a fog that had enveloped him, as if his world was collapsing in on itself. “… Is an incredible turn around for you, Rod. The only thing that saved you was that you haven’t taken finals and had not turned in any major projects. If you had, then you would have flunked. You have an outside chance of salvaging a B average for this semester, but as it is young man, you’re on the verge of being kicked out. Plus, you haven’t been participating in squadron activities. That’s just as important as your grades. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  He stopped and folded his hands, waiting for Rod to answer.

  Rod’s head buzzed. A hum filled his mind. He could hear the blood pound in his ears. He shook his head. “I … I didn’t realize that I was this far behind, sir.”

  Captain Ranch stood; Rod stood as well. “Sit down!”

  Yes, sir,” Rod said; he felt dizzy.

  Ranch leaned over the desk until he was almost in Rod’s face. “This is not indicative of your ability. You were at the top of your class in leadership and well on your way to winning a national scholarship. Now you’ll be lucky to graduate. I’m not sure if you realize just how much trouble you’re in, both academically and militarily.”

  Rod shook his head dully. “No, sir.”

  “After finals you’re going to meet an academic and military Show Cause board that will determine if you should stay or be dismissed.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “That’s the bad news. The good news is that if you can finish your projects within the next few days and ace your classes, then you may still salvage your career. In addition, you’re going to have to spend a lot more time in the squadron. You may not be able to win a scholarship, but at least you’ll be able to graduate. Understand?”

  Rod swallowed hard. “Yes, sir, I understand.”

  Captain Ranch settled back in his chair. His voice almost sounded gentle. “Now that we’re past that, I need to know what happened last semester.” He tapped his fingers together. “I went through the sign-out logs for November and December, and you’d taken as many privileges as you were allowed. You were gone so often that this place functioned more as a motel than as a dorm for you. What’s going on, Rod?”

  “I just felt like I had to get away, sir.”

  Captain Ranch cocked an eye at him. “Just get away. After two and a half years of being number one at the toughest school in the nation, you just had to get away.” He picked up another sheet from the stack at his elbow, glanced at it, and then put it down. “I understand from Captain Whitney that he met your girlfriend at the Fall dance.”

  Rod jerked his head up. “Yes, sir. Julie Phillips, from CWC.”

  “That’s right, Miss Phillips. The southern belle. Whitney said she seemed … let’s see, nice.”

  “Yes, sir, she is.” Rod said. He winced. What else did Whitney say?

  “Have you been seeing her a lot, Rod?”

  “Weekends … and during the week, when she drives out to use the library. I’ve followed all cadet regs, sir.” Rod surprised himself at how defensive he sounded.

  “I’m sure you have,” Captain Ranch said in a monotone. “But that’s not the point.”

  Rod stiffened. “Sir with all due respect, may I ask what this has to do with Julie?”

  A change swept over Captain Ranch. He narrowed his eyes and his face turned hard, intense. “This has nothing to do with this young lady, Mr. Simone, but it has everything to do with your inattentiveness. So let me tell you about excesses. Cadets of legal age are allowed to drink, but not on Academy grounds. When one of my cadets uses alcohol to excess on or off the Academy, he has a problem and I deal with it—especially if it affects his performance.

  “The same goes with anything a cadet does to excess: sports, taking Off Duty Privileges, smoking in the dorm. The opposite is true as well. If you stop showing up for squadron activities, such as intramurals, I step in and fix the problem.

  “I think you are spending far too much time with this young lady, so much so that it is affecting your grades. This is a choice you’ll have to make on your own, Mr. Simone. I can’t order you to stop seeing her, but I can restrict you to the Academy until your grades get better. Because if you don’t, you’re going to throw away everything you’ve accomplished.”

  Rod remained mute.

  “Tell me, why did you come to the Academy, Mr. Simone?”

  Rod worked his jaw. “To fly, sir.”

  Captain Ranch nodded. “A nice canned answer. Tell me why you really came.”

  “To fly jets, sir.” Rod moved forward in his seat. “Back home my … Dad and I used to watch them while sitting on the hood of a car; we’d spend the afternoon just watching them fly overhead, or hitting touch-and-go’s. I wanted to be around jets so much that I’d even take orphans on tours of fighter planes and Air Force bases as part of my Eagle Scout community service project.”

  “It sounds as though you’ve wanted this for a long time.”

  Rod’s voice grew soft. “As nearly as long as I can remember.” He recalled the late night parties in Washington, where his father had introduced him to the Congressmen and Senators who were supporting the Academy. And the time they had traveled by train to Alabama, where he had seen all those officers debating the merits of even having an Academy.

  The Academy had been part of his life nearly as long as he could remember. He didn’t know exactly when he’d decided to attend, and though he’d had second thoughts about it during BCT, he had always assumed that he would just go. Ever since the Farnborough Airshow when he saw that young officer take charge and rescue all those people, when no one else reacted … Captain Whitney …

  Captain Ranch stood and walked to Rod’s side. Rod stayed seated, staring at the floor, his hands folded tightly together.

  Ranch put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re here for yourself, Rod. Yourself, and no one else—not your father, not your mother, or even Miss Phillips. And now you have to come to grips as to why you want to stay.

  “You can throw everything away by not studying. But I guarantee if you go down that path, you’ll be out of here before your class moves to Colorado Springs.”

  Rod looked up sharply; the words almost sounded blasphemous.

  Captain Ranch said. “It’s your choice now.” He walked over to the pile of paper on his desk and picked up a sheet of paper. He spoke with his back to Rod.

  “I wanted to fly all my life too, but I wasn’t as lucky as you. Even though I was commissioned in the Air Force, West Point didn’t have direct appointments to flight training. So I was assigned to a maintenance squadron in Japan while I waited for a slot. Then they cut the number of pilots. That’s why I’m here as an ATO, then as an AOC. But now, this changes everything.” Turning, he handed the paper to Rod.

  Rod glanced it over. It read: CONGRATULATIONS! TO ALL WHO READ THESE ORDERS: CAPTAIN THOMAS L. RANCH IS SELECTED FOR UNDERGRADUATE PILOT TRAINING.…

  Rod looked up, astonished. “Gosh, that’s great, sir. After all these years!”

  Ranch took the paper and walked back to his seat. He sat down heavily behind the desk. “Yes, it is. Now I have a decision to make myself.”

  “Pardon me, sir?”

  “What do I do? Do I see you cadets through to graduation, or do I go to UPT?”

  “That’s easy,” Rod said. “I mean, you’ve wanted to fly all your life.”

  “You’re right. But what should I do?”

  What did he mean, what should he do? On the surface it seemed apparent—Captain Ranch should do what he had always wanted to do: fly. Wasn’t that what motivated the man? Why would he give up going to pilot training to be their AOC?

  Yet, he seemed to enjoy what he was doing, and he was making an impact on cadet lives as a role model—maybe more of an impact than he’d ever make as a pilot. Why, right now, Captain Ranch was the most influential man in his life. He was rock steady.

  But what would th
eir squadron do if he left? What would I do?

  Choices seem easy until you’re faced with making a life-changing decision, especially one that affects people other than yourself.

  Rod sat for a long time, thinking over his own situation. It was tough when your heart was involved, but it all became clear. “Sir, may I be excused?”

  “Yes, you may.”

  Rod popped off a salute. “Good evening, sir.”

  “Good evening.” Ranch didn’t even look at him when he returned the salute. Instead, the Captain tapped his congratulatory letter on the desk, deep in thought.

  O O O

  Julie sat up straight in the back seat and covered herself with her coat. “What do you mean you can’t see me tomorrow? It’s Sunday. We always meet on Sunday. What else are you going to do, go to church all day?”

  “I have to study. I’m behind in all of my classes, and if I don’t catch up, they’re going to kick me out. Surely that happens at CWC,” he said with a touch of sarcasm. He was immediately sorry. He didn’t want to stop seeing her … but he had to.

  “In real college we learn how to prioritize things ourselves,” Julie said.

  “So do we,” Rod said. It was nearly impossible for him to even consider not seeing her. Why did this have to be so hard? “They also said I need to spend more time with the squadron, start participating in activities again.”

  Julie’s eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

  “Well, like supporting my squadron team during intramurals, or showing up for intercollegiate events, such as that golf tournament Sly was in.”

  Julie snorted but didn’t say anything, obviously not impressed.

  So far their relationship had been fairly shallow, but he was trying to change that by getting to know more about her. In the past, Rod had tried talking, and when they couldn’t see each other, he’d call and try to draw her out; but that hadn’t been enough.

  Despite his efforts, Julie always seemed to be holding something back, as if she were not being completely open with him. It hadn’t bothered him before, especially since they’d always end up getting physical; but tonight things were different. It did matter, and if he were ever going to recover his grades, they’d have to start communicating.