Kane and Abel/Sons of Fortune
Page 68
Over dinner that night, after his father had repeated the conversation he’d had with the president several times, he asked Nat to tell them more about ’Nam.
For over an hour, Nat described the city of Saigon, the countryside and its people, rarely referring to his job as a warrant officer. “The Vietnamese are hard-working and friendly,” he told his parents, “and they seem genuinely pleased that we’re there, but no one, on either side, believes that we can stay forever. I fear history will regard the whole episode as pointless, and once it’s over it will be quickly erased from the national psyche.” He turned to his father. “At least your war had a purpose.” His mother nodded her agreement, and Nat was surprised to see that his father didn’t immediately offer a contrary view.
“Did you come away with any particular abiding memory?” asked his mother, hoping that her son might talk about his experience at the front.
“Yes, I did. The inequality of man.”
“But we’re doing everything we can to assist the people of South Vietnam,” said his father.
“I’m not referring to the Vietnamese, father,” Nat replied, “I’m talking about what Kennedy described as ‘my fellow Americans.’”
“Fellow Americans?” his mother repeated.
“Yes, because my abiding memory will be our treatment of the poor minorities, in particular the blacks. They were on the battlefield in great numbers for no other reason than that they couldn’t afford a smart lawyer who could show them how to avoid the draft.”
“But your closest friend …”
“I know,” said Nat, “and I’m glad Tom didn’t sign up, because he might well have suffered the same fate as Dick Tyler.”
“So do you regret your decision?” asked his mother quietly.
Nat took some time before he responded. “No, but I often think of Speck Foreman, his wife and three children in Alabama, and wonder what purpose his death served.”
Nat rose early the next morning to catch the first train bound for Fort Benning. When the locomotive pulled into Columbus station, he checked his watch. There was still another hour before his meeting with the colonel, so he decided to walk the two miles up to the academy. On the way, he was continually reminded that he was on a military base, by how regularly he had to return salutes from everyone below the rank of captain. Some even smiled in recognition when they spotted the Medal of Honor, as they might with a college football hero.
He was standing outside Colonel Tremlett’s office a full fifteen minutes before his appointment.
“Good morning, Captain Cartwright. The colonel told me to take you straight through to his office the moment you arrived,” said an even younger aide.
Nat marched into the colonel’s office, stood to attention, and saluted. Tremlett came around from behind his desk, and threw his arms around Nat. The aide was unable to hide his surprise, as he thought only the French greeted their fellow officers in that way. The colonel motioned Nat to a seat on the other side of his desk. After returning to his chair, Tremlett opened a thick file and began studying its contents. “Do you have any idea what you want to do for the next year, Nat?”
“No, I don’t, sir, but as I’m not being allowed to return to Vietnam, I’d be happy to take up your earlier offer, and remain at the academy to assist you with any new recruits.”
“That job has already been taken,” said Tremlett, “and I’m no longer sure if that’s what’s best for you in the long term.”
“Do you have something else in mind?” asked Nat.
“Now you mention it, I do,” admitted the colonel. “Once I knew you were coming home, I called in the academy’s top lawyers to advise me. Normally, I despise lawyers—a breed who only fight their battles in a courtroom—but I have to admit on this occasion one of them has come up with a most ingenious scheme.” Nat didn’t comment, as he was keen to learn what the colonel had in mind. “Rules and regulations can be interpreted in so many ways. How else would lawyers keep their jobs?” asked the colonel. “A year ago, you signed up for the draft without question, and having been commissioned, you were sent to Vietnam, where you proved me wrong, thank God.”
Nat wanted to say, get on with it, Colonel, but restrained himself.
“By the way, Nat, I forgot to ask if you’d like a coffee.”
“No thank you, sir,” said Nat, trying not to sound impatient.
The colonel smiled, “I think I’ll have one.” He picked up his phone. “Fix me up with a coffee, will you, Dan,” he said, “and perhaps even some doughnuts.” He looked across at Nat. “Are you sure you won’t change your mind?”
“You’re enjoying yourself, aren’t you, sir?” said Nat with a smile.
“To be honest, I am,” said the colonel. “You see, it’s taken me several weeks to get Washington to fall in line with my proposal, so I hope you’ll forgive me if I indulge myself for a few more minutes.”
Nat smiled wryly, and settled back in his chair.
“It appears that there are several avenues left open to you, and most of them in my view are a complete waste of time. You could, for example, apply for a discharge on the grounds of an injury sustained in action. If we went down that path you would end up with a small pension, and be out of here in about six months—after your spell as a warrant officer you don’t need to be told how long the paperwork would take. You could, of course, as you suggested, complete your service here at the academy, but do I really want a cripple on my staff?” the colonel asked with a grin, as his aide entered the room with a tray of piping hot coffee and two cups. “You could on the other hand take up some other posting, in a more friendly environment, like Honolulu, but I don’t expect you need to go that far to find yourself a dancing girl. But whatever I have to offer,” he once again glanced down at Nat’s file, “you would still only end up clicking your heels for another year. So now I need to ask you a question, Nat. What had you planned to do, once you’d completed your two years?”
“Return to college, sir, and continue with my studies.”
“Exactly what I thought you’d say,” said the colonel, “so that’s exactly what you’re going to do.”
“But the new term starts next week,” said Nat, “and as you pointed out, the paperwork alone …”
“Unless you were to sign up for another six years, then you might find that the paperwork moves surprisingly quickly.”
“Sign up for another six years?” repeated Nat in disbelief. “I was hoping to get out of the army, not stay in it.”
“And you will,” said the colonel, “but only if you sign up for six years. You see, with your qualifications, Nat,” he added as he stood up and began to pace around the room, “you can immediately apply for any course of higher education and what’s more, the army will pay for it.”
“But I already have a scholarship,” Nat reminded his commanding officer.
“I’m well aware of that, it’s all in here,” said the colonel, looking down at the open file in front of him. “But the university doesn’t offer you a captain’s pay to go with it.”
“I would be paid to go to college?” said Nat.
“Yes, you would receive a full captain’s pay, plus an added allowance for an overseas posting.”
“An overseas posting? But I’m not applying for a place at the University of Vietnam—I want to return to Connecticut, and then go on to Yale.”
“And so you will, because the regulations state that if, and only if, you have served abroad, in a war sector, and, I quote,” the colonel turned another page in his file, “then an application for advanced education will be given the same status as your last posting. I’ve decided I now love lawyers,” said the colonel, looking up, “because, can you believe it, they’ve come up with something even better.” Tremlett sipped his coffee while Nat remained silent. “Not only will you receive your full captain’s salary as well as an overseas allowance,” the colonel continued, “but because of your injury, at the end of six years, you will automatically
be discharged, when you will qualify for a captain’s pension.”
“How did they ever get that through Congress?” asked Nat.
“I don’t suppose they worked out that anyone would qualify in all four categories at the same time,” replied the colonel.
“There has to be a downside,” said Nat.
“Yes, there is,” said the colonel gravely, “because even Congress has to cover its backside.” Once again, Nat didn’t bother to hold him up. “First, you will have to return to Fort Benning every year for two weeks’ intensive training to bring you up to scratch.”
“But I’d enjoy that,” said Nat.
“And at the end of the six years,” said the colonel, ignoring the interruption, “you will remain on the active list until your forty-fifth birthday, so in the event of another war, you could be called up.”
“That’s it?” said Nat in disbelief.
“That’s it,” repeated the colonel.
“So what do I have to do next?”
“Sign all six documents that the lawyers have prepared, and we’ll have you back at the University of Connecticut by this time next week. By the way, I’ve already spoken to the provost, and he tells me that they’re looking forward to seeing you next Monday. He asked me to inform you that the first lecture begins at nine o’clock. Sounds a bit late to me,” he added.
“You even knew how I would respond, didn’t you?” said Nat.
“Well, I admit,” said Tremlett, “that I did think you would consider it a better alternative to brewing my coffee for the next twelve months. By the way, are you sure you won’t join me?” the colonel asked, as he poured himself a second cup.
“Will you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?” intoned the bishop of Connecticut.
“I will,” said Jimmy.
“Will you take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?”
“I will,” said Joanna.
“Will you take this woman to be your lawful wedded wife?” repeated the bishop.
“I will,” said Fletcher.
“Will you take this man to be your lawful wedded husband?”
“I will,” said Annie.
Double weddings were a rare event in Hartford, and the bishop admitted that it was the first he’d ever conducted.
Senator Gates stood at the head of a long receiving line, smiling at each new guest. He knew almost all of them. After all, both of his children were being married on the same day.
“Who would have thought Jimmy would end up marrying the smartest girl in the class?” said Harry proudly.
“Why shouldn’t he?” asked Martha. “You did. And don’t forget, thanks to Joanna, he also managed cum laude.”
“We’ll cut the cake, just as soon as everyone is seated at their tables,” announced the maître d’, “and I’ll need the brides and grooms in front, and the parents behind the cake when the photographs are taken.”
“You won’t have to round up my husband,” said Martha Gates. “If a flashbulb goes off, he’ll be on the other side of the camera within moments—it’s an occupational hazard.”
“How right she is,” admitted the senator. He turned his attention to Ruth Davenport, who was looking wistfully at her daughter-in-law.
“I sometimes wonder if they aren’t both a little too young.”
“She’s twenty,” said the senator, “Martha and I were married when she was twenty.”
“But Annie still hasn’t graduated.”
“Does it matter? They’ve been together for the past six years.” The senator turned to greet another guest.
“I sometimes wish …” began Ruth.
“What do you sometimes wish?” inquired Robert, who was standing on the other side of his wife.
Ruth turned so that the senator couldn’t overhear her. “No one could love Annie more than I do, but I sometimes wish they, well,” she hesitated, “they had both dated more.”
“Fletcher met lots of other girls, he just didn’t want to date them, and by the way,” said Robert, allowing his champagne glass to be refilled yet again, “how often have I gone shopping with you, only to find you end up buying the dress you first looked at?”
“That didn’t stop me considering several other men before I settled for you,” said Ruth.
“Yes, but that was different, because none of the others wanted you.”
“Robert Davenport, I would have you know …”
“Ruth, have you forgotten how many times I asked you to marry me before you finally accepted? I even tried to make you pregnant.”
“You never told me that,” said Ruth, turning to face her husband.
“You’ve obviously forgotten how long it was before you eventually had Fletcher.”
Ruth looked back at her daughter-in-law. “Let’s hope she doesn’t have to face the same problem.”
“No reason why they should,” said Robert. “It’s not Fletcher who is going to have to give birth. And my bet is,” he continued, “that Fletcher, like me, will never look at another woman for the rest of his life.”
“You’ve never looked at another woman since we’ve been married?” said Ruth after shaking hands with two more guests.
“No,” said Robert, before he took another gulp of champagne, “I slept with several of them, but I never looked at them.”
“Robert, how much have you had to drink?”
“I haven’t counted,” Robert admitted, as Jimmy broke away from the line.
“What are you two laughing about, Mr. Davenport?”
“I was telling Ruth about my many conquests, but she refuses to believe me. So tell me, Jimmy, what are you hoping to do when you graduate?”
“I’ll be joining Fletcher at law school. It’s likely to be a tough ride, but with your son to get me through the day, and Joanna the night, I might just about manage it. You must be very proud of him,” said Jimmy.
“Magna cum laude and president of the college council,” said Robert. “We sure are,” he added as he held out his empty glass to a passing waiter.
“You’re drunk,” said Ruth, trying not to smile.
“You’re right as always, my darling, but that won’t stop me being inordinately proud of my only son.”
“But he would never have become president without Jimmy’s contribution,” said Ruth firmly.
“It’s very kind of you to say so, Mrs. Davenport, but don’t forget, Fletcher won by a landslide.”
“But only after you had convinced Tom … whatever his name was, that he should concede and back Fletcher.”
“It may have helped, but it was Fletcher who instigated the changes that will affect a generation of Yalies,” said Jimmy as Annie came over to join them. “Hi, kid sister.”
“When I’m chairman of General Motors, will you still address me in that tiresome manner?”
“Sure will,” said Jimmy, “and what’s more, I’ll stop driving Caddies.”
Annie was just about to hit him, when the maître d’ suggested that the time had come to cut the cake.
Ruth put an arm around her daughter-in-law. “Take no notice of your brother,” she said, “because once you’ve graduated, he’ll have been put firmly in his place.”
“It’s not my brother I need to prove anything to,” said Annie. “It’s always been your son who sets the pace.”
“Then you’ll just have to beat him as well,” said Ruth.
“I’m not sure I want to,” said Annie. “You know he’s talking about going into politics once he’s obtained his law degree.”
“That shouldn’t stop you having your own career.”
“It won’t, but I’m not too proud to make sacrifices if it will help him to achieve his ambitions.”
“But you’ve the right to a career of your own,” said Ruth.
“Why?” said Annie. “Because it’s suddenly become fashionable? Perhaps I’m not like Joanna,” she said, glancing across at her sister-in-law. “I know what I want, Ruth, and I’ll do whatever i
s necessary to achieve it.”
“And what’s that?” asked Ruth quietly.
“Support the man I love for the rest of my life, bring up his children, delight in his success, and with all the pressures of the seventies, that may prove a lot harder than gaining a magna cum laude from Vassar,” said Annie as she picked up the silver knife with an ivory handle. “You know, I suspect there are going to be far fewer golden wedding anniversaries in the twenty-first century than there have been in the twentieth.”
“You’re a lucky man, Fletcher,” said his mother as Annie placed the knife on the bottom layer of the cake.
“I knew that even before the braces had been removed from her teeth,” said Fletcher.
Annie passed the knife across to Joanna. “Make a wish,” whispered Jimmy.
“I already have, freshman,” she replied, “and what’s more, it’s been granted.”
“Ah, you mean the privilege of being married to me?”
“Good heavens no, it’s far more significant than that.”
“What could possibly be more significant than that?”
“The fact that we’re going to have a baby.”
Jimmy threw his arms around his wife. “When did that happen?”
“I don’t know the exact moment, but I stopped taking the pill a while ago once I was convinced you’d graduate.”
“That’s wonderful. Come on, let’s share the news with our guests.”
“You say a word, and I’ll plant this knife in you instead of the cake. Mind you, I always knew it was a mistake to marry a freshman with red hair.”
“I bet the baby has red hair.”
“Don’t be too sure, freshman, because if you mention it to anyone, I’ll tell them I’m not certain who the father is.”
“Ladies and gentlemen,” said Jimmy, as his wife raised the knife, “I have an announcement to make.” The room fell silent. “Joanna and I are going to have a baby.” The silence continued for a moment, before the five hundred guests broke into spontaneous applause.