Go for Broke

by Len Levinson

  “Yes, sir.”

  Frankie didn’t like that decision. “Why him?”

  “Why not him?” replied Lieutenant Breckenridge. “Are you volunteering for the job?”

  “I don’t volunteer for anything,” Frankie La Barbara replied.

  “Then keep your mouth shut.” Lieutenant Breckenridge looked around. “Everybody ready? Okay, let me get a head start on the rest of you.”

  Lieutenant Breckenridge turned sideways and pushed into the foliage. High up in the sky, the clouds covered the moon once more.

  The four nurses lay around the cave in the darkness, each full of her own thoughts. They were glad they’d have soldiers to protect them, but on the other hand, they knew problems could develop. They were afraid the men might get a little out of control. Horny men sometimes went over the line that divided ordinary sexual advances from outright rape.

  A scraping sound came to them from the cliff outside.

  “This must be them,” said Captain Stearns. “McCaffrey, go take a look.”

  Lieutenant Beverly McCaffrey, the blond nurse who was perhaps a little too pretty for her own good, crawled to the mouth of the cave and looked down, holding an M 1 carbine in her small, delicate hands. She was tall and slim underneath her baggy fatigues, and her long, languid curves didn’t show. Squinting her blue eyes, she saw Lieutenant Breckenridge climbing the cuff, and below him was a group of other men.

  “It’s them,” she said.

  “You’re sure it’s not Japs?” asked Captain Stearns.

  “I’m sure.”

  Lieutenant McCaffrey returned to the rear section of the cave, next to the crate of medicine and crate of C rations they’d brought with them. She sat on a blanket beside her friend, Dorothy Pagano, and lit a cigarette in the darkness. Lieutenant McCaffrey was from Missouri, and Lieutenant Pagano was from River Rouge, near Detroit. Captain Stearns was from California, and Lieutenant Laura Jones from Connecticut.

  Lieutenant Breckenridge entered the cave and brushed himself off. “I’m back,” he said. “The others will be here in a few moments.” He saw somebody smoking in the rear of the cave. “Anybody got an extra cigarette by any chance?”

  All the women said yes at the same time. Lieutenant Breckenridge homed in on the voice of Lieutenant McCaffrey and knelt down beside her. She held out her package of Camels and he took it in the darkness, their fingers touching. Lieutenant Breckenridge placed a cigarette in his mouth and lit it with his Zippo, then handed back the pack.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  “You’re welcome.”

  They heard a crunch at the mouth of the cave, and Frankie La Barbara climbed in, peering back into the darkness, scratching his balls. “Where is everybody?” he asked.

  “Back here,” replied Lieutenant Breckenridge.

  Holding out his arms so he wouldn’t bump into something, Frankie La Barbara moved toward the back of the cave. He hadn’t even seen any of the nurses yet, but he already had a hard-on. Jimmy O’Rourke and the Reverend Billie Jones appeared at the mouth of the cave next, followed by Victor Yabalonka and then the rest of the men. Frankie La Barbara sat down next to Captain Stearns, barely able to see her features.

  “Hi,” he said.

  “Hello,” she replied pleasantly.

  Her voice sounded nice. His hard-on got harder. He wondered how he could get her alone and stick his dick between her legs.

  “We’re back here,” Lieutenant Breckenridge said to the men who were arriving.

  The GIs shuffled across the floor of the cave, thoughts of romance fluttering through their minds. Lieutenant Pagano lit the lantern in the back corner of the cave and turned the wick low so the light wouldn’t carry outside. Morris Shilansky sat next to her and winked. She smiled faintly, because she was used to GIs flirting with her.

  Captain Stearns looked the men over. “I’d say that some of you need medical treatment,” she said.

  Frankie La Barbara inched away from Captain Stearns. Her voice had been pretty, but she wasn’t a very attractive woman. His dick shriveled up in his filthy fatigue pants.

  “What’s wrong with your nose, soldier?” she asked.

  “My nose?” Frankie asked.

  “Yes. Is it broken?”

  “I’m pretty sure it is, and this isn’t the first time either.”

  “You’d better let me look at it.”

  Frankie would have preferred to let one of the other nurses look at his nose, but it was too late for that now. “Should I lie down?” he asked.

  “Yes—right here will be fine.”

  Frankie lay down. Nearby, Lieutenant Pagano examined the cut on Morris Shilansky’s shoulder. Lieutenant Jones peeled the dirty bandage off Victor Yabalonka’s chest. Lieutenant Breckenridge sat with his back against the wall of the cave, and Lieutenant McCaffrey touched the bandage on his leg with her long, dainty fingers.

  “That hurt?” she asked.

  “A little.”

  “It’s going to hurt a lot when I take the bandage off. Would you like to get a shot first?”

  “No.”

  “A tough guy, huh?”

  “Yep.”

  “Hang on to something.”

  Lieutenant Breckenridge balled up his fists on the ground beside his legs and clenched his jaw. Lieutenant McCaffrey took the edge of the bandage in her fingers, inhaled, and pulled with all her strength. Lieutenant Breckenridge was barely able to suppress the scream that threatened to explode out of his throat. The bandage came off, revealing a big ugly red gash. Blood oozed up and out of the wound.

  “It’s not infected,” Lieutenant McCaffrey said. “You’re lucky.”

  “Ouch!” yelled Frankie La Barbara.

  Lieutenant Breckenridge jerked his head around. “Shut up over there, you stupid son of a bitch!”

  Frankie touched his fingers to his nose. Captain Stearns had just removed the bandage from his nose, and it felt as though someone had rammed a burning spear into his head.

  “Sorry,” said Frankie.

  “It’s my fault,” Captain Stearns said. “I didn’t realize it was so tender there.”

  Lieutenant Breckenridge took a deep breath. “Listen, folks, we have to bear in mind at all times that we’re behind enemy lines and have to be quiet. It’s not likely that Japs are nearby, but you never know.”

  Lieutenant Jones, the pinch-faced nurse, looked at him. “Everything was quiet here until you guys showed up.”

  Everything’s going to be quiet again,” Lieutenant Breckenridge replied. “I personally guarantee it. You hear that, gentlemen?”

  “Yeah,” replied Frankie La Barbara and all the others.

  “Good.”

  Lieutenant Breckenridge closed his eyes as Lieutenant McCaffrey poured sulfa powder onto his open wound.

  Lieutenant Breckenridge’s warning came too late. Down in the jungle near the base of the hill, Corporal Kozo Tsukuda of the Imperial Japanese army was reconoittering the area for the possible placement of a field howitzer. He heard Frankie La Barbara’s shout and stopped in his tracks, looking around, wondering what was going on. Then he heard other voices speaking in the English language.

  Corporal Tsukuda looked up and saw the hill. All was quiet now, but that was where the voices had come from. American soldiers were up there, evidently. He decided to break off his reconnaissance and return to headquarters to report the incident to his superiors.

  He looked around for landmarks so that he could return to the area. Then he headed toward the road as fast as his legs would carry him.

  ELEVEN . . .

  “Sir?” said Major Cobb.

  Colonel Hutchins opened his eyes. “What is it?”

  “One of the patrols is back, sir. Would you like to speak with Sergeant Plunkett?”

  “What time is it?” Colonel Hutchins asked.

  “Nearly midnight.”

  Colonel Hutchins realized that the patrols had been gone for more than three hours. All of them should have been back
.

  “No word at all from the others?” asked Colonel Hutchins.

  “No, sir.”

  “What does Plunkett have to say?”

  “He said he ran into Japanese fortifications about a hundred yards from our front lines. He tried to work around them, but he just kept running into more fortifications and Japanese troops. Finally he returned.”

  “That’s basically his report?” Colonel Hutchins asked.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I don’t think I have to speak with him. Relay the information to General Hawkins.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Wake me if any of those other patrols come back.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Major Cobb walked out of the dark tent area. Colonel Hutchins rolled over and fell back asleep.

  At division headquarters General Hawkins wasn’t sleeping. He sat behind his desk, drinking coffee and studying maps, worrying about the attack that would begin in just a few more hours.

  He knew that his entire career was on the line. He’d fucked up the day before, and if he fucked up again, he’d be relieved of command. There were no two ways about it. He’d become one of those pathetic officers you see in Washington, pushing papers around in a dark corner office someplace.

  He couldn’t let that happen. He was the son of a general and the grandson of another general. Tremendous pressure was on him to succeed and live up to the proud traditions of his family. He actually thought that death would be preferable to failure.

  He wished he could go out and lead the attack personally, because the sight of a fighting general inspired the men. MacArthur did it all the time when he was a division commander in the First World War, and he’d become one of the most famous American officers in the Army as a result.

  But General Hawkins had to stay in his headquarters and move pins around on maps. He had to make sound military decisions and anticipate what the enemy would do. He couldn’t make any mistakes whatever, because he knew General Hall would be watching him like a hawk.

  General MacWhitter pushed aside the tent flap and showed his head. “Busy?” he asked.

  “What’s going on?” General Hawkins replied.

  “Reports from patrols have been coming in. The Japs are lined up in strength in front of us.”

  “That’s good,” General Hawkins replied. “Our artillery will blow them to shit.”

  “I know,” said General MacWhitter, sauntering into the office, “but we don’t know how much depth the Japs have in their defense.”

  “Not much, I don’t think. It’s my opinion that they’ve just got a thin crust out there, and they’re tired. We shouldn’t have much trouble.”

  General MacWhitter shrugged. “I hope you’re right,” he said.

  Lieutenant Breckenridge sat near the mouth of the cave, peering down at the jungle below. The moon was shining and few clouds were left in the sky. The weather was clearing, and that meant the US Air Corps would be able to fly in the morning. Lieutenant Breckenridge hoped the American planes would bomb and strafe the Japs ferociously and kill them all.

  His eyes roved back and forth over the jungle. He’d elected to take the second tour of guard duty himself, so his men could get more sleep. Jimmy O’Rourke had taken the first tour and hadn’t reported anything. Lieutenant Breckenridge didn’t expect any trouble, because he didn’t think the Japs had any idea that Americans were hiding out in the area.

  He heard footsteps deeper in the cave and turned around. It was Lieutenant McCaffrey approaching. “I have to go to the latrine,” she said, a little embarassed.

  “Be careful.”

  She climbed out of the cave and walked to the area on the leeward side of the mountain, where she and the other nurses had set up their latrine. Insects sang love songs all around her as she took down her pants and squatted over the stinky, smelly hole in the ground. The breeze rustled leaves around her, and she looked up at the moon in the sky. Something clumped on the ground in the distance behind her, but she assumed it was just another jungle sound. She picked up her pants, fastened the buckle, and walked back to the cave.

  Meanwhile, inside the cave, Frankie La Barbara approached Lieutenant Breckenridge.

  “I gotta take a piss,” Frankie said in a whisper.

  “Wait,” Lieutenant Breckenridge replied, also in a whisper.

  “What for?”

  “Because somebody’s out there.”

  “Somebody’s out there?” Frankie asked. “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

  “The hell you didn’t.”

  “Whataya talkin’ about?”

  “You know very well what I’m talking about, you lowlife.”

  Frankie looked deeply wounded. “You got me wrong, Lieutenant Breckenridge. I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “You weren’t following that nurse out to the latrine, right?”

  Frankie stuck his thumb into his chest. “Me?”

  “Sit down and shut up. I’m tired of talking to you.”

  Frankie didn’t sit down, but he did shut up. The expression on his face suggested that he was unjustly accused by Lieutenant Breckenridge, even though Frankie knew Lieutenant Breckenridge was right. Frankie had intended to follow the pretty blond nurse out to the latrine and maybe put his hand into her drawers. If nothing else, maybe he could have snuck a peek at her while she was doing her business.

  Lieutenant McCaffrey returned, throwing her long leg over the natural barricade at the opening of the cave. Lieutenant Breckenridge turned to Frankie.

  “You can go now.”

  Frankie didn’t reply. He still pretended that Lieutenant Breckenridge had made an unfair accusation. He passed Lieutenant McCaffrey without saying anything and climbed out of the cave.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Lieutenant McCaffrey asked.

  “He’s an imbecile,” Lieutenant Breckenridge replied.

  “How’s your leg?”

  “It’s okay.”

  “Is any blood showing on the bandage?”

  “I haven’t noticed.”

  “Let me see.”

  She knelt down beside him and brought her eyes close to the bandage, because the light wasn’t good.

  “It looks like we stopped the bleeding,” she said.

  “I didn’t stop it; you did.”

  She looked back toward the section of the cave where everybody was sleeping. He examined her profile in the moonlight and decided she had nice features. If it weren’t for the lines of fatigue in her face and the bags under her eyes, she’d probably be quite pretty.

  “Mind if I smoke a cigarette here?” she asked.

  “Just stay down so the lit end can’t be seen.”

  She dropped down on her stomach so that her face would below the wall at the opening of the cave, then took out a cigarette and lit it up. She filled up her lungs with smoke and blew it into the air.

  “I’m exhausted,” she said, “but I can’t sleep. I don’t know what’s the matter with me.”

  “Why don’t you take one of your pills?”

  “Because then I’ll be even worse the next day.”

  “You’re probably a little tense because of where you are. We’ll all be out of here pretty soon.”

  “Do you really think so?” she asked.

  “Sure. This ground belonged to our side, and our people will come back before long and take it back. They might even attack this morning—who knows?”

  “I hope they do. I don’t like this at all.”

  “Neither do I. Say, have you got another cigarette?”

  “Sure.”

  She reached into her shirt pocket and took out her pack of Chesterfields, holding them out to him. He picked out a cigarette, placed it between his lips, and lowered his head so he could light it. He flicked the wheel of his Zippo, and the sparks shone in her eyes. He touched the flame to the end of the cigarette and looked at her face, deciding that she really was quite pretty. Their eyes met and a silent, intimate communi
cation passed between them that was so subtle they doubted it really had taken place.

  He closed his cigarette lighter and dropped it into his pocket. Her face was shadowy in the moonlight.

  “Well,” he said, “maybe if we get out of this mess alive, we can go to a movie together sometime or have a drink or something.”

  “Maybe,” she replied. “But first we’ve got to get out of this mess alive.”

  Frankie La Barbara didn’t have any trouble finding the latrine. All he had to do was follow the stink. He shuffled over the rocky ridgeline, furious at Lieutenant Breckenridge for foiling his plan. That son of a bitch would have to be on guard, he thought. If it weren’t for him, I could be putting it to that blond bitch right now.

  I just know she wants me, Frankie told himself. I could see it in her eyes. When she went outside she knew I’d follow her. She wanted me to stick my pepperoni up her ass, but that fucking Lieutenant Breckenridge had to mess everything up. I hate that son of a bitch. Someday I’m going to kill him.

  Frankie arrived at the latrine, its contents glistening in the moonlight. A swarm of flies arose to meet him. He waved them away from his face and spit them off his lips. He really didn’t have to take a piss, but since he was there, he thought he might as well drain his vein anyway.

  He whipped it out and proceeded to pour his waste liquids into the hole. The foul odor rose to his nostrils and he wrinkled his nose. He looked around, brushing flies away from his face with his free hand.

  The jungle below was illuminated by the half-moon in the sky. He thought he saw something move on the edge of the cliff, but he told himself that he must be mistaken. His eyes were playing tricks on him. Nobody could be climbing up the side of the cliff, right? He finished taking his leak and buttoned his fly, gazing in the direction of the movement he thought he’d seen. At infantry advanced basic training at Fort Ord, California, they’d taught him never to look directly at the object he wanted to see in the night, but to look slightly to the left or right of it. That was because the center of the retina saw during the day, but the edges of the retina saw during the night.

  Frankie thought he perceived something like a head bob up and down at the edge of the cliff. Then he saw another one. Were they boulders coining into his vision and fading away? That could be the answer, because night vision was tricky. Too many latent images glowed on the retina.