Basic Training of the Heart

by Jaycie Morrison

  Then she turned to Bett, her face partly obscured by the nighttime shadows. “I have too many competing voices to answer you well, Private Smythe. And you may laugh, but I have no respect for myself right now.”

  Bett could hear the strain in Rains’s voice. Stop playing with her, she told herself. She’s been nothing but kind to you. Her tone turned sincere. “Sergeant Rains, I’m sorry for teasing you. But please don’t be so hard on yourself. You haven’t done anything wrong. Just because you let yourself feel something nice for once—”

  Rains cut her off. “It is not my job to feel something nice. My job is to be your sergeant, not…”

  Bett waited, but Rains didn’t finish. After a few seconds she got out, came around, and opened Bett’s door. At first Bett thought that she was being mannerly; then she realized that Rains was just trying to get her out of the Jeep without any further conversation.

  “You are dismissed, Private.” She shifted her feet, ready to be gone, and didn’t meet Bett’s eyes.

  Bett sighed. She wanted very much to take Rains’s hand again, to make her understand that the evening had been something delightful just between them and that a repeat or even something more would be most welcome, but she could see that the sergeant had withdrawn into her Army mode and wouldn’t respond well. Still, she had to try. Standing tall, if not quite at attention, she risked a quick look at Rains’s face. “For what it’s worth, Sergeant, spending time with you has been the best part of basic training for me.”

  Rains did meet her eyes then, for just a second, and Bett even thought she might have seen that shadow of a smile. “I am most certainly doing something wrong then,” she said and Bett giggled again.

  The sergeant got back in the Jeep without another word and drove off quickly.

  Bett went into the barracks and made up a story about being at a dinner with some of the officers from cryptography, which elicited many oohs and ahhs from Charlotte and Phyllis and Barbara. Can’t imagine what they’d say if I described what really happened, Bett thought. Which is, of course, one reason why Sergeant Rains reacted the way she did. Once in her bed, she pretended to read while wondering about what had upset Rains more—spending the evening being close to someone or letting herself enjoy it. That was one thing Bett was fairly certain of…Sergeant Rains had enjoyed herself, at least for that one moment. And oh yes, indeed, Bett admitted, so did I.

  As the squad leader, she was supposed to be in charge of the barracks lights when Rains wasn’t there, but since Jo’s bunk was the lower one, they had agreed that Jo would do it. When lights out gave her the closest thing to privacy, Bett felt free to replay more of the evening. It was true, she admitted, that she was finding Sergeant Rains increasingly attractive. Of course she had noticed Rains’s lean, well-muscled physique almost from the beginning, but now she was being drawn by those few moments when she had gotten beyond Rains’s carefully controlled leadership persona to an appealing mix of tenderness and depth of feeling. In that depth, Bett understood, there was much unknown in her sergeant, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of something there she wanted.

  In her past, just being ready for sex was enough to make Bett go after someone she found appealing—or even simply available. There was nothing like the chase. Bett smiled to herself, thinking of the many successful seductions she’d enjoyed in her first years at Oxford. Was it just Rains’s inaccessibility that made her so enticing? No, there were plenty of women around her that were apparently unapproachable in that way, though Bett’s experiences had made her believe that almost any woman could be had by another woman—at least on a one-time basis. She pulled her mind back to the fabulous moon and Rains’s touch, which had been so sweetly appealing—as if she cared, like a mother or a sister or a best friend—that just thinking of it made Bett relax. But in that one moment just before the moonlight dimmed, there had been something more in the touch of their hands, something real, some intensity, something…Bett fell asleep trying to figure out how to describe that look in Rains’s eyes.

  *

  Rains returned the Jeep to the motor pool. The process seemed to take a long time. As she waited for the checkout, she noticed the mess in the offices, the rusted parts around the floor of the bays, and scattered tools. Nothing seemed very neat or organized, the way she expected things in the Army to run, but this wasn’t her first negative experience in the motor pool. Finally, one of the privates who was still working brought her paperwork around.

  She walked slowly toward her room. She didn’t feel like running, but she didn’t really feel like sleeping either. She wandered over to the parade grounds and sat high on the bleachers. The late-evening temperature was now even cooler and she started to wrap up in the blanket. Then it occurred to her that it had last been around Smythe’s body. She brought the blanket to her face and sniffed…Yes, there it was, that scent that was becoming entirely too familiar. Only now it was also tied in her mind to the sound of that fascinating accent—spending time with you has been the best part of basic training for me—and the weight of Bett’s arm around her waist, the sensitive touch of her fingers. Rains put her head in her hands and tried to work her way through her thoughts. Why was it Elizabeth Smythe, of all people, who was bringing out these feelings?

  In their meeting before Smythe’s arrival, Colonel Issacson had clearly stated her conviction that Carlton/Smythe had joined the WAC as a lark, and she had no business in the service. But in these first few weeks, Rains had seen something more in Private Smythe than a rich girl trying out a different life just for the fun of it. She showed a surprising determination to succeed and a genuine willingness to work with others, no matter their social status. Rains was fairly certain that Smythe would complete her basic training—unless that stubbornness or fiercely independent streak got her into serious trouble—and it now appeared that she would be awarded her desired position in cryptography.

  All of that was well and good, but what of this emotion, this attraction between them? Why did her heart quicken when Smythe came into her field of vision on the parade ground or in the barracks? Why were the memories of the moments between the two of them the last thing she thought of at night? Straightening, Rains shifted her thoughts. None of these questions mattered. It would be a great deterrent to Smythe’s training to allow her familiar manner to continue or to let the time between them be anything other than official business. Rains knew herself well enough to believe in her own integrity as a sergeant. Didn’t she also have the strength to put her personal feelings aside and simply do what it took to get Smythe through her basic training? It’s no harder than being Lakota in a White world, a voice inside answered her. Rains stood. Of course. All the passion of these confusing emotions that she was feeling was from the White world. She needed to turn back toward her Sioux heritage to find the balance. When she got back to her room in the officer’s quarters, she burned some sage and chanted quietly for a while. When she fell asleep, she was feeling the cold of a familiar South Dakota landscape inside. She felt shielded again.

  Chapter Six

  Rains’s cool invulnerability lasted only until the next morning, when she gathered her squad as usual and marched them to the mess hall for their first meal of the day. It was her custom to hold the door for them, and the last two through were Smythe and Jo Archer.

  “Thank you, Sergeant Rains,” Bett said, going in first, but not before her eyes met Rains’s for an instant.

  “Did you see that moon last night, Sarge?” Archer asked.

  “Uh, yes, I did, Private Archer,” Rains replied hesitantly, wondering what Bett’s glance had meant.

  “That was something, wasn’t it?” Archer said, as Rains followed them into the room. She gestured toward Bett with her thumb. “Queenie here missed it because she was having dinner with those guys from wireless.”

  It took Rains a few seconds to understand that Bett had made up a story so she wouldn’t have to tell her squad that they had been together. She played along. “Ah, yes
. How was your evening, Private Smythe?” Archer moved around them to get in the chow line.

  “It was lovely, thank you, Sergeant.” Bett smiled and deliberately adjusted the rings on her hands for a few seconds before bringing her eyes back to Rains. “I still have a few unanswered questions but I feel really good about my chances.”

  Rains raised her eyebrows.

  “About getting in,” Bett added.

  Rains blinked.

  “To the program, Sergeant,” Bett clarified. “What else could you be thinking?” Her smile deepened and Rains felt the ice inside her crack.

  She is shamelessly flirting with you in the middle of the mess hall. Before breakfast! Rains tried to find some semblance of authority in the midst an unfamiliar vibration that was running through her stomach. “It’s good that you have confidence in your abilities, Private, but you must also know your limits. And the limits of those…situations…around you.”

  “Didn’t you once say that you should always bring your best effort to getting what you want?” Smythe countered, obviously enjoying herself.

  “I believe I said you should bring your best effort to what you do,” Sergeant Rains said, shifting her weight as she rubbed her palms together, needing to do something with her hands since they seemed to have their own memory of touching that golden hair. “That may not seem like much of a difference to you, Private Smythe, but for me there is a vast gulf between what may be wanted and what is done.”

  Bett had stopped smiling, and in spite of having meant what she said, Rains was sorry to have caused the change in her countenance. She crossed her arms, strengthening her control. “If it is acceptable to you, I’d like to convene at the bleachers on the parade grounds for our squad leader meeting on Friday. At that time, I’d like your assessment of each squad member’s progress so far.”

  Bett nodded. “Of course, Sergeant Rains.” She entered the line without another word.

  Rains turned away and went toward the officers’ table. She was sipping her tea when she heard a voice behind her. “Thank you for the tip about the moon, Sergeant Rains. It was truly spectacular.”

  It was Kathleen Hartley, the auburn-haired captain she had been talking to yesterday while the squad had their wireless class. Hartley was a recent addition to the base, and there was something about her Rains liked. Even though she outranked her, Hartley never talked down to Rains or made her feel unimportant. “We had a great view from our place. It’s a little ways outside of town, you know.” Hartley knelt a little closer than Rains would have liked and her voice dropped slightly. “Maybe you could come out for dinner sometime, Sergeant.”

  Rains tried to control her surprise at the invitation, and then she reminded herself that Hartley was new. The others had stopped asking long ago. “That’s very kind of you, Captain, but I don’t go out much.” At all, actually. Rains felt very awkward in social situations where there was no Army protocol to tell her what to do. She was not good at meaningless small talk.

  Hartley stood, tilting her head. “Well, I hope you’ll consider making an exception for us sometime.”

  Rains caught the use of the plural and wondered why. But she merely nodded. Hartley hesitated and then left to go sit at the other end of the table, where Major Wilson was waving her over. When Rains looked, she saw that Bett had taken her seat and had apparently been watching the exchange.

  *

  For the next two days, Bett stayed near the rear of the platoon for exercise and drills. She was gratified to see that Rains looked three times at the place where she usually lined up before her eyes found Bett in the back. Bett’s mood went from being hurt by what Rains had said about the difference between wanting and doing, to being upset with her for talking with that captain again. Then she would be mad at herself for giving a damn either way. She couldn’t seem to find a comfortable place for Rains in her thoughts or her feelings. Whenever she considered going into full-out seduction—just have her and you’ll get over it—she would see the sergeant working with one of the other girls and could almost feel Rains’s power as she gently molded them to the Army way…her Army way, actually.

  Rains never criticized when she could praise. If a reprimand was absolutely required, she had a way of turning the tables so most recruits guilelessly corrected themselves. The more distressed or anxious someone became, the calmer and steadier Rains’s manner. Much as she hated to admit it, Bett was pretty sure her practiced proposition for quick, raw sex wouldn’t influence that kind of disciplined character. But what moved her the most were the times she happened to catch a glimpse of her sergeant walking unaccompanied across the grounds. Other officers almost always seemed to travel in groups of twos and threes, probably to seem more threatening to the new recruits, but Rains was always alone. She would salute, of course, and sometime exchange a word or two with others that she passed, but she never joined any group. Bett wondered if Rains was truly happy in her isolation or if she ever secretly wished to have company.

  In spite of her high-society upbringing and her generally social nature, Bett also understood about the depths of a reclusive soul. Most of her last year at Oxford had been spent in solitary pursuits: researching, preparing papers, and trying to recover her whole self again. Sergeant Rains appeared completely self-contained, but Bett wondered if what she guarded so carefully was some kind of loneliness or loss. What settled in Bett was something beyond simple desire. Respect and appreciation, yes, but something else that she couldn’t quite identify. Whatever it was, it also came with a keen sense of longing for Rains’s company.

  Just when she was beginning to wonder if Rains was going to ignore her for the rest of basic training, the sergeant stopped at her bunk early Thursday evening just before lights out. Bett was lying on her stomach, reading, and Rains’s face was just a little above hers.

  “Private Smythe, I wanted you to know that several instructors have commented on the improvement in Helen’s and Tee’s work. I’m aware you have continued to tutor them, even after your KP time was up, and I wanted to commend you for your effort.”

  Bett closed the book. “Why, thank you, Sergeant. I’m very glad to hear that. I must confess though, I’ve enjoyed working with them probably more than what they’ve gotten from my instruction.”

  Rains nodded. “Thoreau said, We should seek to be fellow students with the pupil, and should learn of, as well as with him, if we would be most helpful to him. I’m glad you have had that experience.”

  Bett smiled. I’ve missed talking to you, she wanted to say. She looked down at the novel in her hand. Is that all there is to it? Do I simply like being around her? Will we just be friends?

  As if reading Bett’s thoughts, the sergeant delayed there, brushing some imaginary dust off the frame of Bett’s bunk. “What are you reading?” she asked.

  “The Age of Reason by Jean-Paul Sartre. As you’re a fan of philosophy, you might enjoy it. If you’d like, I’ll loan it to you when I’m finished.”

  “Isn’t it a library book?” Rains asked.

  “No, I bought it.” Sergeant Rains’s eyebrows went up questioningly. “You see, I belong to a book club and they send me books each month. I can pay if I decide I want them or send them back if I don’t, but I knew I’d want this one.” She held the book out for Rains to take. Her bookmark was about halfway through.

  “Can you already tell his premise?” Rains asked, examining the cover and flipping through the first few pages.

  “Oh yes. Even though it’s a novel, it’s about his view of freedom. One of his notions is that ultimately a person’s freedom is unassailable as it is fundamentally part of the imagination and so cannot be taken away or destroyed.”

  Rains continued looking thoughtfully at the pages. “If that view assumes that the person’s mind is intact, I would agree up to that point.” She turned to hand the book back to Bett who was still lying on her stomach, but now leaning on her elbows. Rains’s eyes lingered in the V-neck of her pajamas for several extra secon
ds before she blushed and looked away.

  Oh, that was much more than an accidental glance. Bett almost laughed to herself when she realized what the sergeant had seen. “Yes, the imagination is a wonderful thing, but sometimes reality can be even more enjoyable, don’t you think?” she asked, her tone not entirely innocent.

  Rains was saved from a reply when Jo’s sleepy voice drifted up from the bunk below. “What in the world are youse guys talking about?”

  “Would you consider that stealing second base, Sergeant?” Bett asked softly, thinking, I wonder if you liked what you saw, Rains. Another night like the one with the moon and I might be willing to show you a lot more.

  Rains cleared her throat and walked toward the door. “Don’t forget your report for me at our meeting tomorrow, Private,” she said, her voice a little huskier than usual. She put her hand on the switch. “Lights out, squad.”

  “Good night, Sergeant,” they all responded.

  *

  It was raining on Friday morning, but by the afternoon it had cleared off and there was a definite sense of fall in the air. There was talk of a VIP visit soon, so Sergeant Rains drilled her squad longer than usual. The First Lady had already been to Fort Des Moines, as had many other dignitaries and celebrities as well as the national press, but the Women’s Army Corps always wanted to look their best for any visitor who might drop by. Bett thought all the marching was really a rather foolish waste of time, but she didn’t want to make her squad look bad, so she tried to pay attention to Rains’s commands and keep in step. When the afternoon was over, there was a line for the shower, so Bett decided to skip it and just go to dinner on her own. Arriving earlier than usual, she was the first one at her table, and she saw some different people at the officers’ table, including the hefty dark-haired lieutenant who had done the training on munitions.