Oh God, Sergeant Rains, don’t do it, Bett thought, fearing that Dodd’s profanity would push Rains over the edge. The tension in the room was almost tangible.
But Rains’s voice was dangerously calm. “It’s not me you need to apologize to,” she said as she pushed Dodd’s arm just a little farther up her back and the struggling stopped. “It is your squad mates. You have violated their trust in you. You have disgraced yourself and failed your country. You have lost your place here and the chance to be something better than what you are.” She turned the angry woman to face her fellow recruits, but Dodd’s comment was directed at her sergeant.
“You can’t do nothing to me,” Irene Dodd insisted, breathing heavily as she looked back over her shoulder. “You can’t prove nothing.”
A sharp intake of breath was clearly audible as Rains released Dodd’s arm abruptly and roughly turned her captive back to face her. Rains’s fists were clenched at her waist. “You don’t want to even think about what I could do to you.” Her voice dropped to an intimidating whisper as she stepped very close and looked down into Dodd’s face. The room was so quiet that everyone could hear the words she growled. “But you are a thief and therefore a liar as well, so I won’t soil my hands by dealing with you any further. What has been proven is you are unworthy of being a part of this fine squad or of the distinguished Women’s Army Corps.”
Dodd couldn’t maintain her defiance in the glare of Rains’s eyes. Her gaze dropped, but her voice still tried for an indifferent tone. “So what?”
Rains’s body tightened again but Moore nudged Rains lightly with her shoulder. “Stand down, Rains. Let’s get this piece of trash into her uniform for the last time and move her out of here.” Their sergeant took in a long, deep breath and stepped away as Sergeant Moore put the confiscated items in her hand.
The anxiety in the room went down a few degrees, but no one moved except Irene Dodd as she reached for the khaki skirt and blouse she had laid out on the bed. After she dressed, Dodd quickly threw a few extra things into her suitcase, but as she stood, Sergeant Moore grabbed it from her hand and threw it back on the bunk. “Nope. Not until we’ve had a chance to search it for anything else that doesn’t belong to you.” Dodd slumped, turned without a word, and kept her eyes on the floor as Moore escorted her out.
Barb acted first. She was closest to the disgraced woman’s bunk, and as Irene Dodd passed where she was standing, she turned her back. There was no command, no order given, but each girl along the rows of bunks did the same. Rains watched with her jaw tight. Once Moore and Dodd had exited the building, Rains collected the suitcase and followed them.
Bett had been watching Rains very carefully and as soon as her sergeant began to move she called the squad to attention without a second thought. She wanted Rains to know that she approved of her handling of Irene Dodd. To Bett’s thinking, Sergeant Rains had shown the proper combination of righteous anger and controlled contempt for someone who would take the value of something stolen over the opportunity for freely given, genuine comradeship and the chance to make a meaningful contribution to the war effort. Everyone quickly turned back to face the front and stood immobile.
*
As Sergeant Rains walked between the bunks, she could feel a change. She thought she might sense fear or at least apprehension toward her from the women in the room. When she reached Maria’s bunk, she stopped and cleared her throat, eyes sweeping around the room, glancing briefly on each face. “I want to apologize to you for my…my overly aggressive handling of Private—former Private Dodd.”
A few of the girls looked at each other at her correction of Dodd’s name and there were some murmurs of denial to Rains’s declaration, but she held up her hand and it was instantly quiet again. “In the past I’ve had some…difficulty controlling my emotions, particularly anger. Sometimes in the heat of the moment, I still don’t do as well as I would like. Even among the most enlightened of us, reaction sometimes triumphs reason, yes? But it is my promise to each of you to continue to strive for improvement in this area and to be very conscious of my responsibility to never bring shame to this squad, our platoon, or the WAC.” She had come to attention as well and for a moment it was very quiet in the barracks.
The stillness was broken as Helen called out, “I think you did all right, Sergeant. If it had been me, I woulda decked her.”
Some applause along with a widespread buzz of agreement followed this remark. Sergeant Rains turned to place the brooch in Maria’s waiting hands, stiffening slightly as Maria grabbed hers and gushed, “Thank you, Sergeant. Thank you so much. You just—you don’t know what this means to me.”
Rains quickly extracted her hand from Maria’s grasp, but her shoulders relaxed a bit. “You can thank me by not letting this incident cause you to lose faith in the rest of your squad or the WAC and what we are here to accomplish.” Seeing Maria close to tears again, Rains moved a bit closer and her voice softened. “You are a very important part of who we are. Your sisters need to know that you are still with us. Can we count on you, Private Rangel?”
Maria looked around and her squad mates chimed in, unbidden, with words of encouragement. She took in a breath and straightened, wiping her eyes. “Of course you can count on me, Sergeant.” She looked around and smiled, adding, “Why would I give this up? All I have at home is my grubby little brothers.”
Everyone laughed and the mood lightened immediately. Jo took it from there. “All right, then let’s get moving, ladies. We’ve got places to go and people to see!” And the noise level rose quickly as they all launched back into their preparations for the evening.
Rains inclined her head toward Jo and Bett as she opened the barracks door. Archer had said just the right thing at the right time—a trait of good leadership. And Smythe had shown initiative by calling the squad to attention, her first command as far as Rains knew.
“Good evening, Squad.”
“Good evening, Sergeant,” they chorused as Rains went out the door. She heard the movement and conversation rising behind her and nodded to herself. This was a very good group and they would be all right. Then she paused on the top step and looked at the ring in her hand, having forgotten it until that moment.
Private Smythe came through the door and stopped behind her, speaking quietly. “It’s mine, Sergeant. I only discovered it was missing when Maria noticed that her brooch was gone. I didn’t say anything before because I”—she glanced back briefly—“I thought her loss was more significant.”
Rains looked more carefully at the centered diamond stone, surrounded by smaller emeralds. It was not a garish piece but she couldn’t begin to calculate its worth. Considerably more than I have made the last three years in the WAC, she was certain. Smythe was waiting at ease, her eyes focused elsewhere. Rains was impressed that Private Smythe would put the sentimental value of someone else’s property above the actual price of her own.
“Very good, Private,” she said warmly, and Smythe lifted her chin a little, obviously pleased. Then another thought occurred to Rains. Although no one else had mentioned the disappearance of any jewelry, and there probably wasn’t another person in the entire platoon who would be wearing a ring like this, she had no proof that the piece actually belonged to Smythe. It was always her goal to be fair and impartial. How would she react if circumstances were different and Irene Dodd had claimed the ring? The sergeant knew she had to ask. “But how can I know that this is yours?”
Bett shifted her position and her gaze as she lifted her palm to the level of Rains’s eyes, fingers up, wiggling them slightly, her eyes alight with amusement. “Think of me as Cinderella, if you like.” Rains didn’t understand the reference, but she could see what Smythe was suggesting. Carefully, she slid the ring onto Bett’s finger. As Bett tilted her hand forward to show the perfect fit of the golden band, her fingers closed lightly around Rains’s thumb which had come to rest in her palm, effectively capturing her hand. Their eyes met and a slow smile crossed Bett’
s lips. “Well, Sergeant? Does the glass slipper fit? Am I the one you’ve been looking for?”
Bett had expected a snappy comeback about not being a prince or some such, but Sergeant Rains blushed deeply as she freed her hand, stepped back, and cleared her throat. “We’ll have our first meeting next week instead, Private. Spend tonight with your squad. I think they will benefit more from your presence.” She inclined her head in the direction of the administration building, where the forms of Sergeant Moore and Irene Dodd could be seen in the distance. “I have some other matters to attend to, anyway.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Although Bett was glad to be released from her duty, she also felt vaguely disappointed, realizing that she had been looking forward to the one-on-one meeting with her intriguing sergeant. She even felt oddly protective, as though she wanted to make sure that Rains was all right with everything that had happened. She had hoped that her joking comment about the ring would help the sergeant unwind a little, but she hadn’t expected such a vividly uncomfortable reaction. Bett loved to tease and the stern Sergeant Rains had just revealed herself to be a very easy target. I’ll bet anger isn’t the only emotion she has trouble with.
Before Bett could think of anything else to say, Rains reached around her and opened the door to the barracks, motioning Bett back inside with the suitcase just as two male officers were coming into view. “Enjoy your evening, Private. Only be sure to change into more appropriate attire first.”
Bett crossed her arms over herself and felt her cheeks flush as she recalled that she was totally nude underneath the short robe. Venturing a last glance, she thought there was just the slightest amusement on the sergeant’s face.
“And please wish Private Rangel a happy birthday for me,” Rains added, turning away into the evening.
*
Walking toward the base administration office, Sergeant Rains became aware that in place of the rage that Irene Dodd had sparked in her were thoughts of the very delicate touch of Elizabeth Smythe’s hand and the way her mouth moved into a smile. Several hours later, after arranging for the MPs to escort Irene Dodd to the stockade where she would await her court-martial, Rains was finishing the accompanying paperwork when it occurred to her to ask Sergeant Moore about Cinderella.
“My God, Rains, you must be even dumber than I thought,” scoffed the older woman. Even though Rains now outranked her and they had worked well together on solving the theft, Moore never passed up the chance to put her in her place. Rains had long since become accustomed to Moore’s attitude; it had never been anything different. “How can anyone get out of kindergarten without knowing that stupid fairy tale?”
In spite of Sergeant Moore’s scornful tone as she told it, Rains liked the story very much.
Chapter Five
As the third week of basic training came to an end, Bett found herself thinking about her upcoming squad leader meeting with Sergeant Rains. Bett knew she hadn’t been doing a very good job of keeping a low profile, as the sergeant had suggested on her first day. Besides being elected squad leader and making the mistake of speaking out during those first few classes—which still caused many of the instructors to keep an eye on her throughout their lectures—she had also become known among her squad for her generosity, buying Tee a new hat when hers had been ruined when it blew into a mud puddle during a sudden late-summer squall and springing for Phyllis’s long-distance call home when her nephew was there on leave. She routinely made perfect scores on the assignments and examinations, but true to Rains’s viewpoint, the rest of the squad seemed to take pride in her accomplishment rather than being resentful. Her success belonged to them all; she even heard Helen bragging to a girl from another squad about being tutored by the perfect one-hundred girl.
Since Irene Dodd’s departure there was a new level of comfort among them. Bett’s sewing kit had pretty much become community property, and everyone shared in the box of salt water taffy that came in the mail from Barb’s sister. Even the laughter and teasing that followed various attempts at playing the harmonica that Charlotte’s father had sent along were genial and good natured. And Bett had worked at minding her manners as well as keeping to Army protocol, so there had been no more KP.
Even so, she was aware that since that moment with the ring, Sergeant Rains seldom met her eyes or bothered to notice how well she was doing at putting on her gas mask or map reading or whatever task they were assigned for the day, even though Bett usually took a position toward the front during exercises and drills. Rains was generous with her praise to the others, though, Bett noted. Especially the timid ones like Tee and Maria. She wondered if Rains felt intimidated by her family’s influence. She didn’t think it was her intelligence or her education; Rains had more than held her own in the few intellectual conversations they’d had.
Still…Bett’s thoughts drifted back to her early Oxford days, thinking of the rare professor who, upon finally accepting that she wouldn’t offer any kind of ride on the Carlton coattails for her grade, made her work harder than anyone else in the class for the first-class marks she was so determined to get. And before that there were the upperclassmen in Kent Prep, her boarding school, girls so anxious that their own academic legacies continue unchallenged and unmatched that they sometimes made her life miserable when she had done too well in class. How much pleasure Bett took in seeing her name placed above theirs on the various plaques around the school. Sometimes she bested them before the upperclassmen had even graduated. And the biggest thrill there, like here, came in knowing that her father’s money had nothing to do with her personal success. Did Rains expect more from her because of who she was? What would it take to please her? And why did it matter so much to her that she did?
It was after dinner and Bett was beginning to nod off in her bunk, drifting through those days at Kent, but in her dream Sergeant Rains was there in place of her old rivals, with Rains’s name replacing hers on those plaques. Then the dream shifted suddenly and Rains wasn’t her rival, but in place of Emma, her first love. Emma, who had taught Bett all about needing and hurting, whose smile could melt her and whose casual disregard would burn her. Once, Bett had thought Emma was everything she ever wanted, but in the dream it was Rains who reached out a warm, loving hand to touch Bett’s face, her hair and then caress her breast. Bett wrapped her arms around Rains’s strong back, pulling her closer. She moaned softly in anticipation as Rains’s mouth moved slowly to cover hers, eager for the pleasure that would be shared between them.
“Wake up, Queenie.” Jo’s voice shocked her into consciousness. “Aren’t you going to be late for your squad leader meeting with Sergeant Rains?”
“Oh God.” Bett jumped off her bunk, trying to gather her wits. The dream had been so intense that she could feel a wetness between her legs. She hurried to the bathroom, then splashed some water on her face and straightened her tie. Still shaking her head to try to clear the unexpected feelings, she asked the room, “Does anyone have anything they want me to say?” Just a few negative sounds came back to her, with Jo calling, “Good luck!” as she went out into the warm Iowa evening. As she mounted the steps of the administration building, she realized that she had forgotten that stupid hat. It just never sat right on her wavy hair. And knowing Rains, there was no point in making an excuse; she would simply have another demerit. How will I feel when I see her, after that dream? The thought made Bett take a deep breath as she adjusted her clothing and ran her hands over her face. Then she tapped on the conference room door and opened it.
“Miss Carlton,” a distinctly male voice boomed, “come in, come in.” Bett stepped forward hesitantly as her eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room. “I hope you don’t mind that Sergeant Rains let us sit in on your meeting today.”
Bett found Sergeant Rains then, sitting toward the back, her dark eyes as impassive as ever. Or was there a hint of regret?
“No, sir,” Bett said mildly, noting the odd feeling at hearing her other name.
“Good, good. This is
General Foreman, General Hatcher, and General Rutherford,” the speaker continued, indicating the other seated forms, each of whom nodded in turn. “And I am General Clifton, a great admirer of your father, as are we all.” He waved his hand to encompass the group. More nodding.
“Yes, sir.” Bett felt as though her voice was coming from someone else’s throat, as if she were a ventriloquist’s dummy.
“Sit, please.” They all stood briefly as she did so, taking the chair he had indicated, directly across from Rains. “I hope you’ve found your treatment here to be satisfactory so far.”
“Oh yes, sir. Just fine, sir.” They wouldn’t be asking if they knew about me being taken to the stockade.
“Good. Sergeant Rains has certainly given us a very positive report on your progress.”
Bett thought she saw Rains dip her head just a bit. She must have kept that KP off my record. Suddenly it dawned on Bett how unusual it must be to have four generals present in a squad leader meeting. A warm glow of anger began to gather in her chest.
“Will you be passing that report on to my father, then, General?” she inquired, almost sweetly. Across the table, Sergeant Rains’s eyebrows lifted.
“Well, I’m not sure that I’ll be speaking to him directly,” General Clifton began, “but we were asked to drop in and check on your satisfaction with the program thus far.”
“Asked by whom?”
The generals chuckled, a bit uncomfortably. “Let’s just say by someone who outranks us all.”
“And what if”—Bett looked directly at her sergeant for a split second—“and I’m not saying this is the case, but what if I were not satisfied with the program?”
“Why then we would see to it that a transfer was put through immediately,” General Clifton assured her.
“Or an honorable discharge,” General Hatcher said encouragingly, “if you would prefer.”
Basic Training of the Heart Page 8
