The Lieutenant's Nurse

by Sara Ackerman

  He sighed. “Oh, Eva, you’re so beautiful when you’re upset, you know that?”

  “I’m not upset,” she said, crossing her arms.

  He put his hand on her shoulder. “Just focus on yourself and your job, and everything will work out.”

  “Easier said than done. We could be invaded at any moment.”

  “If the Japanese are so bold, they’ll find themselves up shit creek. And they’ll have brought us into the war, which may not be a bad thing.”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “War with Japan may not be a bad thing?”

  “The Allied forces need us. Trust me, if Germany takes over Europe, and Japan the Pacific, life will change as we know it. You want to live under Hitler? With your dark hair, you’d run the risk of being exterminated.”

  “Of course not. I can see sending help over to Europe, but being attacked by the Japanese would mean fighting a war on two sides of the world, and here on American soil. It scares me, that’s all,” she said.

  “It scares everyone.”

  Of course she had heard about the Nazi camps like Mauthausen and Auschwitz, where people went in and didn’t come out. Jews, Roma or anyone who the Germans deemed as dangerous or inferior. Recently, horror stories had been leaked in the news about new methods of killing involving gas vans, where the Nazis would fill the vans with people, seal it off and connect the exhaust. Things in Europe did seem to be spiraling out of control. But why not go straight for the Germans?

  Suddenly, raindrops the size of tadpoles started to dump down on them. They dashed to the car. Eva’s mind was churning with questions. What if he knew something? Or even worse, what if he was right?

  * * *

  That afternoon, she, Grace, Sally and Judy drove to the university stadium for the football game. The road in front of them steamed from another bout of rain on the scorching black pavement. Weather here was highly temperamental with sun one minute and a downpour the next. Happily, snow was out of the question.

  Eva felt like she was back in college with all the chitter chatter and howling laughter. It was hard to feel like she fit in, with her tarnished life, but she found when she put on a good front, her mood seemed to improve. While Judy, with her blond ringlets and shiny red lips could have been a movie star, Sally was pretty in an understated and wholesome way. The two of them wanted to discuss every last happening at the hospital.

  “Millie Andrews told me that Dr. Newcastle made a pass at her yesterday,” Sally said.

  “No!” Grace said, covering her mouth.

  “Cross my heart. He told her she was filling her uniform out nicely, and gave her a little pat on the rear as she left.”

  Eva couldn’t picture it. “Is he married?”

  The girls all laughed. “He’s married to the hospital, and bags an unsuspecting nurse now and then. But I think he secretly dislikes women,” Sally said.

  “He’s a good surgeon,” Eva said, unsure why she was defending the man.

  “Just be careful. He’s unpredictable.”

  Wonderful.

  Sally kept on going. “Mary said that three more soldiers came in with sore throats today that turned out to be the clap. All of them failed to mention pus coming out of their short arms. I swear to you, these boys cannot keep it in their pants.”

  Eva had never heard the term short arm before. All this military slang was entertaining if not baffling. Earlier in the day, Billy had offered to spray her with bug juice. One look at her face and he’d rolled over laughing. Insect repellent, my dear.

  “Be thankful you’re not on pecker-checker detail, Eva. It’s the worst. They put me in there when I first came and I had a crash course in male anatomy,” Judy said.

  Grace laughed. “That and how to keep a poker face.”

  “Where are they contracting it?”

  All three said in unison, “Chinatown.”

  Sally stuck her hand out the window, diverting the hot wind into the car. “Hotel Street is crawling with pickup girls.”

  “Is it legal here?” Eva asked.

  Judy rolled her pretty blue eyes. “The cops ignore it. With the amount of soldiers roving the streets like wild animals, it would be impossible to stop it. The military brass can only do damage control by passing out condoms and Pro-kits to all GIs.”

  In her almost nonexistent training, Eva had been shown a Pro-kit—sulfa ointment, directions and a soaped-up cloth—and told to hand them out to every soldier who left the hospital. A Good Soldier Will Not Get Venereal Disease was stamped across the front.

  “The problem is, there are a hundred men for every woman on this island. No wonder they’re desperate. Those call girls are exotic, too. Chinese, Japanese, Hawaiian, Filipino or all of the above,” Sally said.

  Eva thought about Billy. And Clark. Did they visit these kinds of places? Feeling lonely and full of need. Needing a woman’s touch. For some reason, the image of Billy hitting up Hotel Street was more believable than Clark. Now, why would she think that? Maybe it was how he went on and on about how much he craved her touch. Before it had felt romantic. Now it seemed almost desperate.

  “Men will be men,” Grace said.

  “Speaking of men, how’s it going with your sweetheart?” Judy asked.

  “Fine.” Eva wasn’t in the mood to discuss her jumbled emotions. Grace was the only one she’d told about the proposal and she wanted to keep it that way. In her experience, the more you talked about something, the muddier it became. Usually, her first instinct was trustworthy. Except in this case. One minute she was positive Billy was the one, the next she was convinced she couldn’t live without seeing Clark again.

  “The offer still stands to go surf riding with Sid. You’re going to love him. He’s the finest man around, not to mention the most skilled and the dreamiest,” Judy said with a sigh.

  “Skilled at kissing,” Sally said.

  If he was half as good-looking as Judy, he was probably a dish. Those poor soldiers with the clap must have about died when she sauntered into the room. Fortunately, Judy didn’t seem to notice—or care—what effect she had on people. Eva liked her.

  At the stadium, the women found seats near the fifty-yard line. Grace and Sally went to find a restroom, while Eva and Judy guarded their seats from the hordes of people. The smell of popcorn and rain and sweaty people surrounded them. The bleachers kept on filling up until there was standing room only. And all for a college football game. As soon as the game began, Eva could see that the Oregon boys were in trouble. Not eating for five days would have that effect. The rumor was more than a few had hardly left their rooms during the crossing.

  At halftime, under a misty drizzle, Eva and Judy left to purchase hot dogs and Coca-Colas. Eva was fascinated by the mixture of races all blending together and she tried not to stare. A young Japanese woman with a mouth like a button. The shocking blue eyes of a Hawaiian boy. She was so distracted, she almost walked right into a man’s chest.

  “Excuse me,” she said, before realizing she was speaking to Clark.

  “Eva.”

  The deep vibration of his voice. His face in the rain. She could see the tiny water droplets on his lashes. The dimple. Her mouth went dry.

  “What are you doing here?” She hadn’t meant it to sound like an accusation, but the words tumbled out anyway.

  “I’m here to cheer on the Bearcats. How about you?” he said.

  Judy stepped in and locked arms with Eva. “We’re on the Hawaii side.”

  “I have a thing for underdogs,” he said, not even glancing at Judy.

  Eva wanted to throw her arms around him and say, Pick me up in the morning and show me your secret beach! Please? If only she could have one more day with him, maybe she would know. “Clark—”

  Another man appeared and handed him a beer. “Here you go, buddy.”

  “
Thanks,” he said, still not taking his eyes away from Eva.

  The friend did a triple take when he saw Judy. “Who are your friends?” he asked Clark.

  “This is Eva Cassidy, and...”

  Eva chimed in. “Judy Walton. We work together at Tripler.”

  “How’s the assignment going?” Clark said.

  “So far so good.”

  Eva could have stood there for a year—was it legal for a man to be so handsome?—but the band stopped playing and loud cheering cracked through the sun-slanted afternoon. Behind them, stomping feet shook the bleachers.

  “I thought about—” Clark said.

  A burst of static. “Ladies and gentlemen, the second half is underway. Hawaii up by ten and we’ll see if the Bearcats have anything left in them to turn this game around,” boomed from a loudspeaker three feet away.

  “Fellas, it was a pleasure, but our food is getting cold and our friends are waiting,” Judy yelled above the noise.

  “You’d better get back, then,” Clark said, and Eva realized he probably thought they were with their boyfriends.

  “Wait,” she said.

  Say something, silly. Anything.

  He looked at her expectantly, but this was not the time nor the place. Any blind idiot could see that. “It was nice to see you, Lieutenant.”

  His jaw tightened. “Stay safe, Eva.”

  And then he turned away.

  “Who was that?” Judy asked once they were in the clear.

  “He was on the Lurline.”

  “Not to be nosy, but did you two have a thing?”

  A question Eva wasn’t quite sure how to answer. “We spent time together. I met him the first night at dinner because we were some of the only people not green in our rooms. But I had Billy waiting for me here and whatever might have been ended when we docked.”

  Judy looked her in the eye. “Not from the looks of it.”

  * * *

  The Oregon boys lost the game. They simply ran out of steam. Eva felt badly for them, traveling all this way, but they’d have another chance in a week, and by then they should have their strength back.

  She was exhausted, too, and ready to curl up in her twin bed. As they approached Pearl Harbor, she admired what appeared to be the whole of the Pacific Fleet.

  “All those ships sure make an intimidating sight,” Eva commented.

  “Isn’t that the truth. If someone were going to attack, now would be a good time. They could take out all our defenses in one swoop,” Sally said.

  The words caught Eva off guard, but Sally was right. Battleship Row shone in the fuzzy yellow of streetlamps. Hulking masses of steel and gun power. Floating fortresses. Surely, no one would dare. The moment gave Eva pause. She suddenly felt proud to be a nurse and proud to be an American. Even if she’d had to lie to get here, she would do her part. Whatever that meant.

  HELL DIVERS

  December 7

  0300

  The pilots of Operation Z write goodbye letters to their families back home. They are ready to die. In the envelopes, they include strands of hair and nail clippings so their families will have a part of them to cremate. Some slip pictures into their pockets, all say silent prayers. Many wear thousand-stitch belts made by mothers or wives or sisters who asked passersby to add a stitch for good luck and victory. For the mission, the galley has prepared each man a bento box. Rice ball, pickled plums, a biscuit, chocolate, amphetamines. If they run out of fuel or are in danger of being captured, they are told to find a target and crash into it. Everyone nods in agreement. There is no fear, only honor. They are hell divers, after all.

  The seas are so rough that thunderous waves slam into the carriers and spill across their decks. The ships pitch and roll, tilting the flight decks to more than ten degrees. The morning is black but for blinker lights atop of each ship. Wind screeches through the planes in an eerie wail. It is decided—the mission will continue as planned. Before the pilots climb into their cockpits, they tie hachimakis around their heads. Hisshou. Certain Victory.

  Spirits are high as the flight deck comes to life. Plane engines hum, lamps wave in circles. The first takeoff is postponed for fifteen minutes due to the wild seas. It must be timed perfectly. Go! The Zero fighter begins its run, increasing speed. Everyone holds their breath. Liftoff happens just as the deck pitches back down. Cheers erupt and are instantly swept away in the dark wind.

  THE BIG MISS

  0645

  US Army Opana Radar Station

  Kahuku, Oahu

  Privates Skip Lewis and Danny McVay have been on duty since 0400. It is a dreary Sunday morning with no action. Skip fusses with the radarscope, which has a history of acting erratically. A short two-week history. All of this is new to them, as it is General Short, who has been recently given the radar equipment by the War Department. Neither man is particularly happy about being here and they are still in training, but they take their job seriously. The third guy on their team decided on sleeping in this morning, and Skip and Danny assured him they could handle the Sunday workload. Nothing much happens on a Sunday anyway.

  The phone rings. Skip answers.

  “Lewis? You guys are relieved of duty. You can shut the scope down and head back.”

  He hangs up. “That was HQ. They said we can call it a day.”

  “May as well wait until the truck actually comes,” Danny says.

  The truck is often late.

  “Sounds good.”

  The two men continue to work the radarscope, and at 0654 a small flicker appears on the screen, 130 miles to the northeast.

  “Here’s something,” says Skip, letting Danny take over the dials. “You wanna practice?”

  “Sure.”

  At 0702, a big blip appears.

  “Hell! What is that?” Danny says.

  “Damn thing must be busted again, I’ve never seen anything like that. Here, let me have a go.”

  They switch places, but it soon becomes clear that the radar is working just fine. What they are looking at is a shitload of aircraft coming their way.

  Danny goes to plot the position—137 miles north, 3 degrees east. When he goes to radio Fort Shafter, no one picks up. “They must be eating,” he mumbles.

  “Use the phone,” Skip says.

  He reaches a switchboard operator named Private Todd Allenton and fills him in. “I’ll pass on the message, but I’m the only one here.”

  A few minutes later, Allenton calls back. “Look, fellas, I consulted with Lieutenant Stone here and—”

  Skip takes the phone. He doesn’t like what he sees. “You don’t understand, these blips have gotten bigger and are moving fast. Put Stone on.”

  He hears shuffling and mumbled voices, and then, “This is Lieutenant Stone. Look, what you’re seeing are a group of B-17s coming in from the mainland. Nothing to worry about.”

  After they hang up, Skip and Danny look at each other and shrug. At least they know the radar is working.

  THE REAL McCOY

  0755

  Hawaii laughed in the face of wintertime. Trees burst with leaves, vines meandered across walls and flowers colored up the landscape. Eva sat on a bench outside Queen’s Hospital, enjoying the warmth and solitude. A cluster of sparrows picked at worms in the grass and when the clouds parted, a rainbow shone through.

  She had persuaded Grace to drop her at the medical conference on her way to an early church service with Judy and a few gals from Tripler. None of the other nurses had wanted to come to see Dr. Wallace. We’re not invited, they’d all said. Church, followed by a beach picnic sounded like a better option to them. But Eva wouldn’t miss this lecture for anything in the world.

  The bronze plaque on the wall read Mabel Smyth Memorial Building and she wondered who Mabel Smyth was. It was unusual to have a hospital building named for a woman. The au
ditorium and the hospital grounds were impressive for such a remote island and she was finding Honolulu to be full of pleasant surprises. For all its remote island feel, the city was also a bustling port with one foot in the future.

  No one else had arrived yet and she appreciated the time alone. No roommate, no man, no bedpans to change. She looked at her watch. There was still over an hour before the presentation started. Enough time to take a walk and get back in time to catch Dr. Wallace before his talk. She wanted to thank him again for patching up her cheek so nicely.

  When she reached the corner of the building to cross the street, the drone of an airplane engine grew louder and louder. The sky hummed around her. Strange that they fly so low over the city. A moment later a plane whizzed over her and skimmed the roof of the hospital, filling the air with the taste of fuel. The navy must be doing drills. Nevertheless, it ramped up her pulse. She kept walking under a dense tree canopy, down the block in the direction of the palace, but two more planes zoomed past heading toward Diamond Head. A minute later an explosion sent shock waves blasting through the morning. In the distance, a pillar of red smoke erupted into the sky. Some training they were doing!

  Then, through the branches, she thought she glimpsed red balls on the underbellies of the planes. It resembled the Japanese meatball insignia. She’d seen it in the papers.

  No!

  Time shifted, folded in on itself. Like the exact moment when she had realized Tommy Lemon was gone. How you knew when you knew. Something was terribly wrong. Eva broke into a run back toward the hospital. So early on a Sunday and there were no other people out on the streets. A loud bang rocked the atmosphere.

  It was happening.

  All the blood in her head turned to sludge.

  A metallic taste in her mouth.