Termite Hill (Vietnam Air War Book 1)

by Tom Wilson

  Her closest friend waved from the clan-gathering of Pan Am stewardesses. Julie Wright was a junior stew who had been with Pan American for less than a year.

  Julie detached herself and they met halfway.

  "You've been busy," chided Julie, glancing at the men.

  "Mm-hmm. Very boring."

  Julie cocked her head. She liked to clown around in an earthy, profane manner. She had large breasts, a tiny waist, a sexy, whiskey voice, and attracted men like bees to honey. Her nose was too large and her hips too matronly, the other girls catted, but her total combination drove the guys wild. She didn't give them the time of day and that made it worse, for they regarded her as a challenge to their masculinity.

  "Something serious?" Julie asked, lowering her voice as she saw that Liz was deep in thought.

  "I acted like a fool joining those guys I'd never met before."

  Julie laughed. "You're silly."

  "See that guy there? Walking back from the bar toward the other two? The one with the cultured look?"

  "Sure. The one you were just ogling."

  "Not ogling," Liz said with distaste. "I just thought he was a gentleman."

  "I was about to go over and join you in your misery, maybe rescue you by offering my bod in your place, when I saw you leave."

  "It's not funny!" Liz stamped her foot in anger. "You know I'm not like that."

  Julie laughed. "Sometimes you get silly with all your culture and breeding and what is or isn't appropriate."

  "Don't you think there's such a thing as rebound, losing your head because you're emotionally vulnerable?"

  "I might, but over Jeff? He's such a pedigreed ass. . . . Oh, hell, sorry Liz."

  "You're right. Jeff is an ass. But it still hurts." She smiled a hurt look. "My mother's still talking about what a great catch Jeff was."

  "What about this nice looking guy you're making moon eyes over?"

  Liz Richardson looked across at the muscular fighter pilot and mused. "He's too short. He's what, maybe five-ten or eleven. I prefer men over six feet tall."

  "Like Jeff?"

  "God forbid." She took a breath. "No more moon eyes over the captain, okay?" She refused to mention the one who'd made her tingle.

  "He's a captain?"

  "They're in the Air Force, stationed somewhere in Thailand."

  "You're kidding me."

  "That's what they said. They fly fighters. Anyway, no more leers."

  "Too bad. You were more human as Miss Hot Pants."

  Liz grimaced.

  Julie was eyeing the two military men. Regardless of her jokes about men, Julie Wright had seldom seemed serious about the guys she met. As if searching for something she hadn't found. Even her interested look was out of her normal character.

  "Did I ever tell you," Julie said, "that my father was Air Force?"

  "I remember you complaining about living in all those different places."

  Julie was still staring.

  "Dammit, Julie," Liz hissed, "now it's you with the big eyes."

  "Hon, it's not my big eyes the guys are after," she joked in a sultry voice, and Liz couldn't help laughing.

  "Look," Liz whispered, "they're coming this way."

  As the three men approached, Liz prepared to make introductions, but they walked past. They stopped before a smooth, thirtyish man with a Clark Gable mustache who stood guard over a girl who looked like she was still in her teens. Mal Stewart and the TWA first officer addressed the guy like an old friend, but he didn't seem that happy to see them.

  The girl was barelegged and wore a skimpy skirt and a clinging, see-through blouse. Untethered breasts moved as she talked and her dark nipples jutted sharply into the fabric. Surely, Liz thought, there were laws against being so obvious.

  The men passed pleasantries, then to the horror of Clark Gable the girl attached herself to Benny Lewis's arm, rubbing her breasts sensuously against him as she told him something that made him smile. Mal Stewart looked on like a bull ready to paw the dirt. Liz despised them both for their male weakness. Couldn't they see the girl was a low-class tramp?

  "I was introduced to the slick guy with the mustache," said Julie. "He's a major on the military attaché staff at the embassy. The girl's the horny daughter of some biggie in the Australian embassy. She said she just dearly loves military men, and she obviously wasn't lying. She's sure laying it on heavy with your guy."

  Liz shrugged. "Not my guy."

  "You don't care?"

  "No." Liz kept her eyes averted from both men.

  "See you around," said Julie, and walked toward the mustached major. His friend clung to Benny's arm, rising on tiptoes to whisper another private joke. She grasped Mal Stewart's arm, to include him in her attentions, as Julie arrived.

  "Hello, Major. Remember me?" asked Julie in her huskiest voice.

  "I . . . uh . . ." the mustache replied. His attention was on his date, who was giggling and tugging at both Stewart's shirt and Benny's arm. The oblivious Trans World first officer tried to carry on a conversation with the mustached major, whose attention was glued to his date.

  "I've just got to show you Manila while you're here," the girl was gushing, "and you've got to tell me all about fighting the war. Fighter pilots! I can't wait to tell my friends." She sounded thrilled by their proximity.

  Liz followed Julie, intrigued.

  "Julie Wright, remember? Best damn stewardess in the world." Julie turned her smile and attention to the two Air Force men. "And you gentlemen?" she asked rather loudly, reaching out and grasping both men's arms. She had sucked in a breath and the spectacular breasts promised to burst from the thoroughly crammed blouse. The males shifted gears from the teenager and gawked.

  "I don't think I've had the pleasure," Julie murmured.

  Liz slid in beside Julie, feeling wicked as she edged the Australian girl away. "Julie, this is Captain Benny Lewis, and his friend there is Captain Mal Stewart, who is also called . . ."

  "Bear," he said.

  Julie smiled, still displaying her spectacular figure and giving her world-class come-on. "Hello, Benny and Mal Bear."

  " 'Scuse me," said the military attaché as he grasped his date's arm. "Gotta get this young lady some sustenance. Good seeing you, Mal. Uh, nice meeting you too, Captain."

  The two men worked to keep from staring at Julie's endowments, hardly noticing that the attaché had pried the girl's hands away. "Yeah, see you." "Nice meeting you," they muttered to the fleeing attache. Mal Bear's eyes were pulled back to Julie's spectacular bosom.

  The obnoxious TWA first officer followed behind the embassy major, trying to make a point about investments as his audience hustled his date toward the door.

  "Liz was telling me you were a couple of fighter pilots from Thailand?" asked Julie.

  "No ma'am," said the awed Bear. "He's a fighter jock. I'm but a poor and honest EWO. We're in the same squadron at Takhli." He pried his eyes away to look at Liz, obviously puzzled at the turn of events. Liz felt easier with them now that Julie was there.

  Mal Bear was indeed a ruggedly handsome man. Precisely the kind mother and family told her to beware of. Her emotional danger flag went up again. When she regarded the one called Benny she felt much easier, almost a kinship.

  Julie laughed from deep in her throat. "Can't kid me, Cap'm. Ain't no electronic warfare officers in fighters."

  Mal Stewart turned his head back toward her, opened his mouth to speak, then reconsidered. Liz didn't know what Julie was talking about, but it was obvious she'd mentioned something sensitive because he was no longer looking at her magnificent boobs.

  "What do you know about pilots and EWOs?" he finally snapped.

  "Why nothing, Cap'm. But my father did. About fighters and pilots and EWOs and all of that. He was a very cagey chief master sergeant who ran the tightest flight line in Europe."

  "Wright," muttered Benny. His face brightened and he snapped his fingers. "Chief Wright?"

  "You knew my father?"r />
  "Of course." Benny said. "He virtually ran the maintenance effort at Spangdahlem Air Base. Sure I know your dad. And you're wrong. He's the best flight line supervisor in the world, not just Europe. Chief Wright could write books about airplane maintenance."

  "No more. He died last year of a heart attack."

  "Chief Wright?"

  "Surprised us, too. Daddy always seemed too organized to have something like that happen. Had his first attack just after we got back to the States, and he had to retire. I think he was disgusted at the slipshod way the heart attacks were scheduled. He died after his fourth one last year."

  Benny turned to the Bear. "Chief Wright was one of the immortals of the Air Force, like gooney birds and Jimmy Doolittle. We used to joke that Chief Wright was sent by big brothers Orville and Wilbur to make sure things were done right." He glanced at Julie with a frown. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make light of his death."

  "No offense taken," said Julie. She shook her head wistfully. "I still have a love-hate feeling for the Air Force. My father was away from home a lot, traveling or working two and sometimes three twelve-hour shifts in a row during exercises and deployments. He was always gone at critical times. It was miserable holding late Thanksgivings, Christmases, and birthdays."

  "The Air Force," said Benny wistfully, "takes a lot of understanding."

  "I remember good times, too," Julie said.

  Liz felt like an outsider. As Julie opened up, Liz realized she was really learning about her for the first time. Mal Stewart noted she was being left out of the conversation then and patted her arm warmly. The tingle . . .

  "Daddy warned me," Julie said, somberly regarding Benny Lewis, "never to have anything to do with a fighter pilot. He said fighter pilots were sex maniacs who'd tell you anything to have their evil way."

  "Is that true?" Liz asked.

  Benny Lewis shrugged and looked innocent. "No one's perfect."

  She laughed. Their eyes met and they shared their first meaningful contact.

  "Daddy never said a word about electronic warfare officers though," Julie said, shifting to Stewart.

  The Bear leered mischievously. "Good thing he never hear of Emil ze EWO, eh."

  "There were EWOs at Spangdahlem, Germany, flying in the EB-66's." She wrinkled her nose. "Daddy didn't warn me about them."

  The Bear retorted darkly, "I'm not in EB-66's."

  "Aren't you?"

  The Bear mumbled something, obviously upset.

  Liz saw his discomfiture. What in the world was an EWO?

  Benny said, "He's a fighter pilot, no matter what he says." He meant it as a compliment, but the Bear glared at him too.

  It was all very confusing to Liz.

  Bear Stewart

  The Bear was a casualty of Julie's jibe. He felt another twinge of anger when he realized that Julie was steering Liz's attention to Benny.

  The beautiful redhead was ready. He'd known that when he'd first seen her across the room. Like you could tell when you saw a high-strung filly pacing and walleyeing a stud horse in the next corral. She'd known it, too. Once she got going, she was the kind who would claw down walls. But Julie had maneuvered Liz next to Benny and stood guard between her and the Bear.

  Benny was a good guy and a friend, but the Bear hated to give up on the redhead. Give up, hell! he told himself.

  He reached for Liz's arm and gave her the slow, penetrating look. "Let's go find a real bar downstairs where we can talk and maybe dance a little," he said in a confidential tone.

  "Great idea," piped up Julie Wright. "Thought you guys would never ask."

  The four of them found the lounge on the mezzanine floor of the hotel, where they sipped exotic rum drinks and cracked crab claws. They listened to a rhythm and blues group imitating American songs popular several years before. They danced periodically, relaxing and cuddling to a slow dance or moving with a slow rock tune. It was a good time, and the Bear tuned in again with the redhead. It was going to be an outstanding night.

  It was the buxom pest, Julie, who screwed things up.

  The Bear had leaned forward in the stuffed leather couch to talk to Liz. She'd stared back at him for the first time and without words they both knew. She moistened her lips. It would be like spearing a fish in a barrel, he decided. He started to reach for her hand to dance to a fast one when Julie grabbed his arm and motioned toward the dance floor.

  "C'mon, Mal Bear. Let's boogie."

  "Sure," he finally said. Dancing with Julie and watching all that firm flesh moving against the blouse had its fine points.

  Approaching the dance floor, Julie raised a finger. "Just a sec." She hurried over and whispered in her friend's ear, drew back to give her a serious look, then returned to the dance floor.

  "Everything okay?" asked the Bear.

  "Oh yeah." She shook it all.

  The Bear grinned. "Oh yeah!"

  He didn't grin a moment later when he saw Liz and Benny motion that they were leaving.

  Julie Wright came closer, still moving. "Guess you struck out, big fella."

  The Bear felt shitty enough without her remark. "C'mon," he said sourly, "let's sit."

  Back at the table he regarded Julie closer. "What was that all about?"

  "What's what all about?"

  "All evening you've been pushing me away from Liz."

  She pegged him with her eyes. "She's a friend. Maybe I don't want to see her get screwed up by you. You're just out for one thing, and that ain't visiting the zoo, big fella."

  "You think Benny's not out for the same thing?"

  "Your friend Benny is one of the most hurt men I've ever come across."

  "That part's true. He got screwed royally by a real bitch."

  "Well, Liz just found out her fiance was making it with some of her best friends. Now she's found someone else she's attracted to. I doubt either of them are up to turning things into a good situation, but I wasn't about to let you foul things up."

  "Thanks," he said caustically.

  "I think you would've scored. She's vulnerable, and I don't think she'd do anything about it if someone like you gave her the rush. Anyway, she's not for you tonight, big fella."

  He realized he was pouting, which in turn made him smile.

  "Am I wrong?" Julie asked.

  "I'll go along. Benny needs something."

  "I'm glad you finally see things my way."

  "You're a tough lady, Julie. Care to dance?"

  She stared at him. "No."

  "You call it."

  She continued to appraise him. "If you want to come up to my room, I'll have one drink with you, no more. I'm not feeling vulnerable. You get the booby prize, Mal Bear."

  The Bear considered the booby prize and was impressed. Mal Stewart was a devout bachelor, and he especially enjoyed the challenges of the life.

  Benny Lewis

  In the elevator, Benny stared awkwardly at the dark, lacquered-wood interior. When he turned toward Liz to say something, she started nervously.

  At the eighth floor she pointed to the right. "I'm in eight-forty-two."

  He led the way. "Got the key?"

  She nodded, still skittish.

  At the room she fumbled with the lock. The door swung open and Benny stepped around her, peering about inside. "All clear. No gremlins or madmen."

  She stood, hesitating and biting her lip, waited several seconds like that.

  "Are you all right?" he asked.

  "No," she whispered, fleeing inside. She muttered, "Good night," and closed the door abruptly in his face.

  Benny was confused by the change in attitude. Starting down the hallway, he stopped to regard her door once more, then turned and continued to the elevator. A strange one, he decided. Again, she reminded him vaguely of someone else.

  Back at the bar he was surprised to find that Julie and the Bear had already left. He retrieved his bag from the bellboy, checked into the hotel, and went up to find his room. He was turning down the bed linen whe
n the telephone rang. He answered, expecting the Bear.

  "Hi." The voice was small.

  "Liz?"

  "I called to apologize about the way I acted when you walked me to my room."

  "Don't worry about it."

  "I do though." Her voice caught, betraying both her emotion and her intoxication.

  "We're both tired."

  "I acted silly. You were a perfect gentleman."

  He cleared his throat to speak, then decided to remain quiet.

  "Are you going back to your base early tomorrow?"

  "Not until day after tomorrow."

  "Well, if we see each other again," she said, "I promise not to act like a fool."

  "Well, if we see each other again," she said, "I promise not to act like a fool."

  "First, you didn't make a fool of yourself." Benny paused thoughtfully. He had not made a date in years. "Second, how about breakfast?"

  "I'd like that."

  When Benny hung up, he felt a pang of guilt. Like rules of flying, he'd taken marriage seriously, and it wasn't easy to change. He pulled off his clothes, hung them neatly, and crawled into the inviting bed. Then, as he had every night, he thought about Bets, the kids, and his fractured life. The heaviness returned. He tossed and thought and prepared for another miserable night.

  Just before dawn he woke up, and it took a moment before he realized that he had been dreaming. The woman he'd been with wasn't Bets. He tried to drift back to sleep and recapture the pleasantness. He thought about the girl called Julie, Chief Wright's daughter. He had felt so damnably at ease and comfortable with her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Tuesday, December 6th—0945 Local, Takhli RTAFB, Thailand

  Colonel Mack

  The crew chief drew his hand sharply across his throat. Mack MacLendon responded by chopping back the throttle of the big turbojet engine.

  He pulled off his helmet and head-sock in time to hear the compressor blades of the engine clattering to a stop. The specially fitted helmet had cost him $150, but it was worth it to be able to shut out the loud ambient sounds and clearly hear the radio. Many of the pilots who flew the Thud, with the loud J-75 engine and the air turbine motor screaming away just beneath them, chose to dip into their savings and pay for the special headgear. Those who continued to wear the issue helmet would grow increasingly deaf. Hearing specialists called it the "boiler room effect."