Two Blackbirds

by Garry Ryan

  Sharon nodded, put her hand on Walter’s shoulder, and walked toward the back of the aircraft.

  The smell hit her. It was a blend of iodine, sulpha, and dried blood. Sharon spotted the wounded soldier she’d talked with before. His eyes were open and he was watching her. She put her hand on his remaining arm and crouched down so he could hear her over the engines.

  “You’re back.” He looked at her and smiled.

  “Stretching my legs.” Sharon saw that what remained of his left arm was out from under the blanker. The stump was bandaged just above the elbow.

  “Still don’t know what hit me. One minute I was up. The next I was in the snow and my buddy was screamin’ for a medic.”

  Sharon nodded. “Where you from?”

  “San Diego. How about you?”

  “Calgary. For the last five years, I’ve been living in England.” Sharon looked toward the tail of the aircraft.

  “Calgary?” the soldier asked.

  “Just north of Montana.” She watched the trio of flight nurses. They wore slacks and battle jackets and moved from patient to patient. The oldest of the three was attaching a bottle of plasma to a hook above a litter near the tail. The other two appeared to defer to her.

  “Okay. Gotcha now. I’ve never been to Canada.”

  “You’ll be there in a few hours. We land in Goose Bay, and then it’s on to Montreal.” Sharon stood up. “Back in a minute.”

  She walked toward the nurse who had the short blonde hair. She was a bit stockier than the others, and had eyes that seemed to take everything in all at once. Sharon touched the flight nurse on the shoulder. She felt the tension there.

  The nurse turned and frowned. “What?”

  Sharon saw the name ROLLINS on the breast of the woman’s jacket. “Could we talk for a minute?”

  Rollins looked right and left. “Only for a minute.”

  Sharon led the way to the front of the aircraft to a relatively private space between the cockpit and main body of the aircraft. She stood nose to nose with Rollins. “Anything I need to know?” she asked. “Right now, we can stop off in Reykjavik, Iceland if we need to. I’d prefer to continue on to Goose Bay. I just want to make sure I have all the information before a decision is made.”

  Rollins pushed back her garrison cap. “We’re short of penicillin and morphine. Everyone is. I’m hearing that there may be as many as fifty thousand wounded.” She hitched her thumb over her shoulder. “One of the boys lost both legs and has shrapnel wounds. He has an infection. He’s the one I’m most worried about. And there are two others who are running hot. They’re being closely watched. I have enough penicillin for the next fourteen hours, but no more.”

  “Do you want me to ask if it’s available in Reykjavik?” Sharon asked.

  “Yes.” Rollins put her hand on Sharon’s shoulder, smiled, turned, and went back to her patients.

  Sharon returned to the cockpit, maneuvered her way into her seat, and put on her headphones.

  Linda glanced left and raised her eyebrows.

  Sharon looked at the checklist, found the frequency for Reykjavik, and picked up the microphone. “Reykjavik tower, this is Yankee Papa Zulu. We’re looking for penicillin. Any available?” She could feel Linda’s and Walter’s eyes on her.

  About thirty seconds later, the radio crackled. “Yankee Papa. Negative on the penicillin. Available at Goose.”

  Sharon took off her headphones and went back into the cabin. She spotted Rollins and tapped her on the shoulder. “According to Reykjavik, Goose is our best bet.”

  Rollins nodded, then held up her right hand with fingers crossed.

  Sharon headed back to the cockpit and checked her watch. If everything works just right from here on in, we should be okay.

  CHAPTER 29

  [SATURDAY, JANUARY 13, 1945]

  They landed at Goose Bay just after sunrise. After the hours of transatlantic flight, it was a wonderland of ice, snow, cleared runway, and evergreen trees.

  When they taxied in, Sharon switched the radio to ground control. “Goose ground, Yankee Papa requests food, penicillin, and fuel.”

  “Affirmative for fuel and food. Negative on the penicillin.”

  Sharon touched the microphone to reply. She felt Walter’s hand on her shoulder. He lifted the right side of her headset. “Give me a chance to track some down. Get the nurse to give you a list of what she needs, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  After shutting down the engines and completing their checklist, Linda, Sharon, and Walter filed out of the cockpit.

  Sharon watched as the nurses took food and coffee on board. I don’t know how they keep going. We spell each other off and take catnaps. They never seem to stop. She walked over to Rollins, took her to the cargo door, and walked with her down the ramp. Ahead of them, Walter talked to the driver of an ambulance. The driver nodded, pointed at the passenger door, climbed in the driver’s side, started the truck, and drove away.

  “See that?” Sharon nodded in the direction of the departing ambulance.

  Rollins nodded as she sipped from a stainless steel thermos cup.

  “Walter is on the hunt for supplies.” Sharon caught a whiff of coffee. “Any more of that around?”

  Rollins handed her the cup. “Hold this. I’ll be right back.”

  Sharon looked out over the airfield. She inhaled the crisp air and the scent of pine. She closed her eyes and opened them when she smelled coffee. There was cup under her nose. Sharon and Rollins switched cups.

  A Jeep approached. It stopped near the ramp. A man unfolded himself from behind the wheel. He wore a blue uniform and a cap with gold braid across the brim. His hair was grey on the sides, and his jowls seemed to hang over his tight collar. He didn’t smile as he approached. He looked toward the nose of the aircraft and stopped. He regarded Sharon and Rollins. “Who’s the captain of this aircraft?”

  Sharon heard the authority of command in his voice. She said, “Flight Captain Lacey.”

  “Where is he?”

  “You’re looking at her, sir.” Sharon took a sip of coffee.

  “Elliot.” He offered his hand.

  Sharon shook it. “What can we do for you, sir?”

  “I’m afraid I have a problem. We’re short of crews, and your replacements won’t arrive until tomorrow.” Elliot looked at Rollins.

  Rollins took a sip of coffee. “These boys can’t wait overnight,” she said. “I’ve got one who’s fighting an infection and two who are showing early symptoms of it. They’ll be dead if we wait for tomorrow. We need penicillin.”

  Sharon looked across the airfield to see if Walter was on his way back. “My copilot and I’ve been spelling each other off on the way over. We’ll be able to fly the last thirteen hundred miles to Richmond.”

  “The sooner we get there, the better.” Rollins looked at Elliot.

  “There is a shortage of medical supplies. We’ve rationed penicillin at this end. The next shipment is expected tomorrow with the replacement crews.” Elliot turned to Sharon. “You’re authorized to continue on to Richmond as soon as refueling is completed.” He turned, walked away, and climbed into his Jeep.

  Rollins waited until Elliot drove away. “No, thank you. I don’t want to fly to Virginia with a couple of dead boys on board. That’s what will happen if we have to stay here overnight.”

  “There’s a war on, remember?” Sharon smiled.

  Rollins laughed. “So I’ve been told.”

  “What was he looking at that made him stop after he got out of the Jeep?” Sharon looked at the nurse.

  Rollins laughed so hard she almost spilled her coffee. “You mean you don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  Rollins took her by the elbow and walked her the length of the fuselage until they stood near the nose. She pointed up at the side of the fuselage. “See that?”

  Sharon looked at the name Sunflower II painted along the nose under the cockpit. “See what?”

  “Sunf
lower II means that this is General Eisenhower’s personal aircraft.” Rollins raised her eyebrows.

  “You can’t be serious!” That’s what McBride was hiding.

  “What’s all the excitement about?” Linda approached from under the wing.

  “We’ve been flying General Eisenhower’s C-54.” Sharon pointed at the name.

  “Oh, that’s exciting.” Linda moved closer and looked up.

  “The problem is that Eisenhower may be wondering where his aircraft is.” Sharon sipped her coffee. Oh, what the hell! As soon as it’s discovered I’m pregnant, I’ll be grounded anyway.

  “I wondered what McBride was up to. He was extremely nervous when he said he wanted to do something good for a change.” Linda looked at Rollins.

  “If word gets around, there might be a few reporters at Richmond when we land.” Rollins rolled her eyes and shook her head.

  “Maybe we should make sure they will be there.” Linda nodded her head and smiled as if she’d just come up with a wonderful idea. “We’ll provide the General with good press in return for the use of his aircraft. I mean, it’s only fair, don’t you think?”

  Sharon felt a sudden wave of nausea. Her mouth filled with saliva. She turned her back on the two women, bent over, and promptly threw up onto the tarmac.

  Linda rubbed Sharon’s back with one hand and held her ponytail with the other. “Are you able to continue?”

  “Are you pregnant?” Rollins asked.

  Sharon straightened up, reached for a hanky, wiped her face, and blushed through her nausea.

  “You are?” Linda asked.

  “I think so.” Sharon looked at Rollins. “I’ll be grounded if word of this gets out.”

  Rollins shook her head. “Nobody will hear it from me. You feeling well enough to get us the rest of the way?”

  “We’ll get you there.” Linda rubbed Sharon’s back. “Does Michael know?”

  Sharon shook her head. “Not yet.”

  The horn of an ambulance beeped. Sharon stuffed the hanky in her pocket. “Here comes Walter.”

  The ambulance pulled up next to the cargo ramp. Walter stepped out and went to the back of the truck. He opened the door, lifted two boxes, balanced them on his right knee, and closed the door with his free hand. He walked up to the cab of the truck and nodded at the driver. The pink palm of a brown hand waved out the window of the ambulance as it drove away. Walter walked up the ramp and into the cabin.

  Linda turned to Rollins. “Are you able to call anyone in Richmond who can alert the press that Eisenhower’s plane is arriving in about five hours?”

  Rollins looked at Sharon and frowned.

  “If Linda has a plan,” Sharon said, “then she’ll take care of things when we land. While you make the call, Linda and I can get ready for takeoff.” Sharon walked to the ramp, then up and into the cabin. Walter was setting the two boxes near the tail of the aircraft. He turned and faced Sharon.

  “How did you manage that?” Sharon pointed at the medicine.

  “You knocked at the front door. I knocked at the back. That’s how it works sometimes. My friend asked for one box of penicillin and another of morphine on our return trip.” Walter looked around the cabin. “Where to next?”

  “Richmond, Virginia. Apparently, there’s a big veterans’ hospital there.” Sharon looked up toward the cabin.

  “Richmond? Maybe we’ll have time for some home-style cooking. Man, I’ve been craving Virginia ham.” He studied Sharon’s face. “You look a little pale.”

  “Upset stomach. Thanks for getting the medicine. You probably saved the lives of a couple of our boys.” She nodded in the direction of the soldier with an IV in his arm and a bottle hanging above his bed.

  Walter shrugged. “Glad to do it.”

  They took off twenty minutes later and landed at Richmond in a little under five hours.

  Sharon looked out the cockpit window and saw a clutch of photographers. She turned to Linda as they shut down the last engine. Linda nodded and undid her harness. “I need to take care of the reporters. Have you got this?”

  Sharon nodded. She went through the final checks with Walter’s help and followed Linda a few minutes later. The last two litters were being lifted off as the wounded boys were being eased toward the ramp. She stood next to the open cargo door and looked toward the gathering of reporters and photographers facing Linda.

  “Don’t you think it’s wonderful that General Eisenhower made his aircraft available to bring wounded soldiers home? It just shows you that with Eisenhower, his men come first.” Linda lifted her chin as the bulbs began to flash.

  “To hell with that!” The voice came from inside the aircraft.

  Sharon turned. Once her eyes adjusted to the softer light, she saw Rollins leaning one arm against the fuselage of the aircraft. Sharon recognized the wounded soldier who had needed the penicillin to fight infection.

  “We were out of penicillin,” Rollins said. “He managed to get some before we left Goose Bay. You’re on the mend now. You wouldn’t be without his help. You should thank him.”

  Sharon stared at the top of the soldier’s head. His black hair was uncombed and his nose was crooked from being broken. There were stumps under the blanket where feet should have been.

  “You think I’m going to thank him? You got another think comin’!” The soldier shook his head for emphasis.

  Sharon looked to her left and saw Walter there, backing away from Rollins and the soldier. Walter’s face was a neutral mask, but the anger in his eyes gave him away. Sharon moved next to Rollins, put her hand on the nurse’s shoulder, and said, “This woman saved your life!” She turned and pointed at Walter. “This man got the medicine for you!” She looked at the corpsmen holding either end of the litter. “Leave this son of a bitch where he is!” She pointed at the young man. “I’ll fly him back to fucking England!”

  Rollins took Sharon by the arm and pulled her to the front of the aircraft. She nodded at the corpsmen to carry the wounded soldier out of the aircraft, then pulled Sharon closer. “We do what we do to save their lives. We can’t do anything about what’s in their hearts.”

  Walter stepped closer and said to Rollins, “You have to understand, she saw a man executed because he was black. He was our friend.”

  Rollins turned to Walter.

  “His name was Edgar Washington. An MP shot him outside a pub. We all went for dinner. There was a fight. Edgar was shot in the chest. The MP got away with murder. She —” Walter pointed at Sharon, “— tried to get the MP charged.”

  “There’s a war on.” Sharon watched the wounded soldier being carried down the ramp. “They told me that nothing would be done about Edgar’s murder because there was a war on.”

  “Sharon! Rollins! Walter! Come down!” Linda stood at the bottom of the ramp and winked. Men with cameras smiled up at them. “They want pictures!”

  “I don’t know if this is such a good idea,” Walter said to Sharon.

  “Come on.” Rollins grabbed each by an elbow. She turned to Walter. “Just pull your cap down over your eyes.”

  “You can tell them your name is Edgar Washington if you like.” Sharon had the odd feeling that her brain was becoming disconnected from her mouth.

  Walter looked at her and smiled.

  “After the photos, you’re coming with me. I know where we can get some first-class grub,” Rollins said.

  “Umm. . .,” Walter said.

  Rollins said, “You’re coming, Walter.”

  “But. . .,” Walter said.

  “After each trip, we go to Maybelle’s on Carlisle Avenue. And there’s no reason to worry. Come on, we’ve got a ride.” Flashbulbs caught them as they posed at the cargo door. More followed as they felt their way down the ramp. Linda met them at the bottom for another series of photographs. Rollins hustled nurses and crew toward a Deuce and a Half idling around the side of a hangar. “Now all we need is a driver. We’ve got a three-hour loan.”

  Sha
ron smiled at Walter, who climbed into the cab. Rollins got in the passenger side, and the rest of them clambered into the canvas-topped back of the truck.

  Sharon watched out the back of the Deuce. It was a warm day for winter, at least warmer than what they were used to, and she enjoyed the passing scenery, even though her mind was numb with fatigue.

  The truck stopped in a residential area and parked out front of a white house. They had to walk half a block to a large red brick house on the corner. People in uniform and civilians came and went.

  “Maybelle runs the place,” Rollins said. “She has the best food around. She has two sons in the service. She and her daughters keep this place going.”

  They went around back to a one-storey building set in the middle of a half-acre of backyard. The restaurant had windows on all four sides, and the leafless trees were positioned so as to provide shade for the restaurant and the patio in the summertime.

  Rollins opened the door and stepped inside. Sharon found herself salivating at aromas that were both familiar and new. A waitress with light brown skin waved them over to table she was clearing. The six of them sat down. Sharon looked around at a crowd of mixed colours who seemed unaware of their arrival and whose eyes remained focused instead on the food in front of them. Walter looked around, then looked at Sharon. She smiled. The smile became a yawn.

  “Coffees?” the waitress asked.

  Rollins nodded.

  “Specials?” The waitress returned with cups and a carafe of coffee.

  Rollins looked around the table. Linda asked, “What’s the special?”

  “Chicken, potatoes, grits, and gravy.” The waitress made her way around the table, filling coffee cups.

  The nurses nodded and smiled. Linda said, “Sounds good to me.”

  The conversation began to warm up. Rollins turned to Sharon. “What are you going to do after this mess is over?”

  Sharon put her coffee down. She shrugged. “I’ve been. . .”

  “She’s been thinking about moving back to Canada,” said Linda, putting her hand on Sharon’s arm. “I’d like to move there too, if that’s okay with you.”

  Sharon felt the renewed warmth of the connection between them and turned to her friend. “What about Honeysuckle?”