As the grim shadows of night disappeared to make way for a cold, gray
dawn, the silhouettes of nine pursuit planes and the silent figures of
many ground men working busily about the ships could be seen on the
field at Pensacola.
Save for the whirr of airplane motors, some going while others were just
being started, a grim, foreboding silence prevailed as the mechanics and
ground men worked swiftly to service the ships about to start on a long
journey within the next half hour.
Officers and men, attired in regulation flying togs, stood together in
small groups, some smoking, others chewing gum, all of them silently
waiting for the moment to enter their cockpits and take off, perhaps on
the last air voyage any of them would ever make.
Orderlies moved about with grim, determined faces, heavily laden with
the luggage of their superiors, deaf to the usual heckling of the
enlisted men, who never pass up an opportunity to yell, “dog robber,”
when seeing an orderly perform some menial task.
Some of the officers and men who had friends and relatives in Pensacola,
were making the rounds, shaking hands and patiently listening to fond
farewells, don’t-forget-to-write warnings and the usual bon-voyage
ceremonies that are such an important part of all types of
leave-takings.
As the base buglers sounded the preliminary calls at a quarter to six,
the pilots and observers hurried to their planes, and with the
assistance of mechanics and ground men, put on their parachutes and
adjusted their Gasborne helmets, at the same time, supervising the
last-minute loading of personal baggage.
A sharp note was sounded by a bugler and someone crisply yelled,
“Attention.” All the men on the field turned their eyes center, lifting
their bodies and heads and throwing back their shoulders as the senior
Marine officer and the flight commander came upon the scene of activity,
accompanied by their respective aides.
An adjutant called, “As you were” after the two officers had returned
the salutes of the pilots and observers, and the buzz of activity,
laughter and flip talking was again resumed with greater zest.
“The Aerological Officer reports that you will have a good ceiling to
Havana,” the senior Marine officer announced, as he accompanied the
flight commander to his plane, the first one in line, bearing the red
replica of Satan, the insignia of the Tenth Air Squadron, “though you
may run into rain over Yucatan.”
The flight commander smiled as he hurriedly cast his clear, narrow blue
eyes over the line of pilots and observers standing by their planes,
waiting for the word to go.
“It will take more than rain to stop these anxious playmates of Satan!”
Both men joined in hearty laughter over this prophecy, each knowing full
well the courage of Marine flyers, especially members of the Tenth
Squadron, who lived up to every tradition of the service and the
flattering legends spread throughout the land concerning their especial
deeds of glory and bravery.
Panama and Lefty paid little attention to the noisy activity now going
on about them. They had been too occupied since Reveille to even speak
to each other, and now they were frantically working away to load the
last bit of equipment into their plane.
Large beads of perspiration trickled down their faces and their
breathing was deep and quick as they bent over to throw the final piece
of baggage into the ship.
“Well, that’s that!” Panama announced as he straightened himself and
rubbed his back to ease a sharp pain just above the base of his spine,
“another fifteen minutes and we’ll be in the air.”
Lefty smiled broadly with anticipation as he unwrapped a slice of
chewing gum and looked about to see who was among those preparing to
leave.
As he turned to his right, his eyes met those of Steve Graham’s.
The ostentatious Graham, decidedly pleased with himself, purposely
polished off his silver wings with the palm of his hand for no other
reason than to make Lefty conscious once more of his failure to pass the
solo test.
“Wish you had a pair?” he yelled over to Phelps, mockingly. “Though if
you got them, you’d probably put them on backward!”
Lefty made a quick move in the direction toward Steve, determined to
close this obnoxious pilot’s mouth for once and for all, but Panama
intervened by stepping in front of him.
“Keep your shirt on! Do you want to be sent to the brig?” he whispered,
then looking over his shoulder, called aloud to the annoying Marine:
“Better not polish them wings too often, Graham. You’re liable to wear
off the design!”
This final retort was precisely the thing necessary to end the oral
barrage of hostilities. Steve’s face flushed and he scowled menacingly,
attempting to think of something mean to say, but as a clever answer
failed him, he turned his back to the two men, consoling himself in the
philosophy that arguing with a flight sergeant might prove a foolish
thing to attempt under present circumstances.
Lefty made no attempt to refrain from laughing boisterously. He cast a
grateful glance in Panama’s direction, and then busied himself about the
plane, making certain that everything was in tiptop shape, ready for the
long hop without a flaw.
Near the great hangar, just to the rear of where the waiting planes were
lined, the wind was playing havoc with the thick, dark hair of a hatless
girl and the blue regulation nurse’s cape she wore, showing a
spick-and-span white uniform beneath every time a gust of wind lifted
the blue serge.
Elinor’s eyes were searching the field for a glimpse of two familiar
figures as she ran in and out in a zigzag fashion, between men and
planes until she spied Lefty and Panama far down in the line, near the
ship of the flight commander.
She hurried down the field, struggling to brush back her hair and keep
her cape closed with one hand, while in the other, she held two packages
neatly wrapped in white paper.
Reaching the fuselage of a plane a little away from where Panama and
Lefty were standing, she stopped and attempted to catch the boy’s eyes
without Panama becoming cognizant of her presence. Her efforts were
without avail, for just as she waved her hand, Williams turned about and
caught sight of her instantly.
Seeing the girl at that early hour thrilled the sergeant to the tips of
his toes and his face lighted up with a look of joy and surprise over
this unexpected pleasure.
He waved back to her, believing that her salutation was meant for him,
and then turning, slapped Lefty upon the back and yelled, “Look! There’s
Elinor! Jumpin’ cats, she got up in the middle of the night to say
good-by to me!”
Lefty pretended not to hear as he toyed with the hub of one of the
landing gear wheels, though he felt his heart beating faster at even the
very mention of the girl’s name.
Panama gazed at him in bewilderment, not quite comprehending the boy’s
indifference, and then repeated his original announcement of Elinor’s
arrival.
Phelps responded by rising, and without even glancing in the direction
Elinor was approaching, walked around the side of the plane and climbed
up into the rear cockpit to examine the machine gun. A sickening feeling
came over him as cold beads of perspiration moistened his forehead.
He felt a dull, terrible thud in his heart over the prospect of having
to again face Elinor after what Panama had confided to him only the
afternoon previous.
When she gave him her photograph the morning before, he had promised to
see her that night and go into town to a movie, but after what Williams
had told him, it was too great a temptation to even as much as trust
himself now in her company. He loved her as he had never loved any
woman. From the very first moment he had set eyes upon her back in San
Diego the day he passed his medical test, his head had been filled with
dreams of a pleasant future spent with this girl as his life’s partner.
Now that Panama admitted harboring the same hopes, Lefty firmly believed
that it was his duty to step aside and concede his place to the man who
had not alone befriended him, but saved his life at the risk of his own.
As for Elinor, she was unable to understand Lefty’s sudden reversal of
mind and heart, and a pained expression of keen disappointment
overshadowed her lovely countenance as she noted the boy’s puzzling,
indifferent attitude of plainly ignoring her.
Panama rushed forward to greet the girl with a broad smile of welcome,
forgetting himself for the moment and clasping her in his arms, then
blushing furiously as he realized the forward step he had made.
Elinor helped to relieve his embarrassment by ignoring his bold action
and greeting him with a warm, “Hello,” while Lefty, still seated in the
cockpit, experienced a mingled feeling of nervousness and slight
jealousy, as he struggled to pretend that he was still unaware of her
arrival.
“Gosh, Elinor!” Panama bellowed with jubilant enthusiasm, “it was mighty
nice of you to get up so early just to say good-by to me!”
The pretty nurse’s lips parted in a warm and generous smile, at the same
time, casting a hurried and nervous glance in Lefty’s direction, whose
back was still turned toward her.
“I couldn’t see either of you boys go away without saying good-by,” she
replied in a tone unmistakably loud enough so that Lefty could not help
but hear. Then she glanced down and held out one of the neatly wrapped
packages she had been carrying. “Here’s a little something for you so
that you won’t forget me!”
Panama looked with longing and surprised eyes at the package and then at
Elinor. He stumbled from one foot to the other, tried to speak but
somehow couldn’t find the words, and then, with hesitance, lifted his
hand and accepted the box.
“Gee, this is swell! Oh, boy—I didn’t think you’d remember me like
this!” He turned about, grinning from ear to ear, and looked up at
Lefty, shouting, “Hey, kid! Look what Santa Claus just brought me!”
Still making a sincere attempt to avoid any direct meeting with Elinor,
the boy merely looked over his shoulder with his eyes trained just above
the nurse’s head and smiled at Panama, quickly resuming his work again
on the machine gun.
This latest action of Lefty’s left no doubt in Elinor’s mind that
he was intentionally avoiding her, and the consciousness of his
inexplainable attitude hurt her terribly. Her mind became a befuddled
center of unanswerable and annoying questions that she struggled to
fathom out, though finally giving up the task with regret just as
Panama, in an embarrassed fashion, began to stutter incoherently,
“I—well—er—ahem—er—if I could manage to write a couple of letters,
will you—er—do you think you’ll find time to read ’em?”
Elinor was deeply touched by the man’s sincerity. Her heart went out to
him with understanding; for the moment allowing her to forget Lefty and
his puzzling attitude.
“You know I’ll read every word you write,” she replied, encouragingly,
“and I’ll answer your letters too, you big silly!”
With such encouragement, Panama might have asked Elinor then and there
to marry him. At least, for one brief moment, he found courage enough to
pop the question, but as the words came to his lips, he heard a familiar
voice from behind him call his name. Turning, he recognized the flight
commander, and without further hesitance, came to attention, saluted and
joined his superior officer, walking off with him and leaving Elinor
standing alone.
Once more alone, the puzzled nurse again turned her attention to Lefty,
seated in the plane, adamant as ever in his determination to ignore her.
She hesitated for a moment and then walked over to the side of the
plane, gazing up at him with a bewitching smile that completely took the
boy off his guard.
As he looked down at this girl, a sweet and appealing figure whose hair,
skirt and cape fluttered in the wash of the plane’s propeller, a feeling
of uneasiness gripped him, impressing indelibly upon his mind and heart
that he loved her—more than all the world.
She lifted her hand that still held the other package, mutely signifying
to the boy to accept the gift. The result was perfect. Conscious of her
thoughtfulness, the barrier he had raised so high between them,
instantly melted away as he reached over the side of the fuselage and
took the box, his hand touching hers for one brief moment, electrifying
the hearts of both.
“My, but you’re a busy person,” she said, assuming an air of
self-injury.
Lefty’s face shaded with a frown, then mimicking the girl’s injured
tone, looked off in the direction of where Panama and the flight
commander stood talking, replying curtly, “Well, I notice that you’ve
been kind of busy yourself!”
At loss to understand the boy’s sudden change of attitude again, Elinor
held out her hand in a manner of farewell and said, “Well, I hope you
have a safe voyage and—good-by!”
He gazed down at her for a moment and then took her slim hand in his,
pressing it gently and making no attempt to hide the thrill even this
slight contact gave him.
She responded with an inviting and tender look that made him forget
every promise he had made to himself. For one brief moment, he and this
girl were the only two people in the entire world and it was inevitable
that the first thought that came to his mind was to hop out of the
plane, hold her tightly in his arms and shower her lovely, tempting lips
with kisses.
All at once, he boldly awoke with the annoying realization that he was
selfishly enacting a love scene with his dearest friend’s girl, and
Panama only a stone’s throw away from them. Much to Elinor’s
bewilderment, Lefty quickly assumed a belligerent attitude, saying, “Why
did you have to come down here this morning?”
For the moment, his thoughtless words cut straight through to her heart,
bringing a faint sign of tears to her eyes; then all at once, something
within her instinctively lifted the shroud of mystery that enveloped
Lefty and she saw right through him, completely understanding his
purpose of assumed indifference.
As they both stood silently gazing at each other, Elinor was turning
over the problem in her mind whether or not it might be best to inform
Lefty exactly how she felt toward Panama, when the sergeant came
bursting in upon them in a mad hurry to get away.
Without even glancing up at the boy again, Elinor shook hands with
Panama, called out a cheery farewell and ran off to join a group of
nurses who stood near by, watching the spectacular take-off.
The large siren atop of the central hangar blew shrilly and with it came
the mingled shouts of men and a renewed bustling activity through the
line of planes, the motors of which were all purring with a deafening
roar now.
Panama climbed up into the cockpit, smiling triumphantly and waving with
enthusiasm to Elinor. He turned and slapped Lefty on the back in a
jubilant mood, pointing to where the girl was standing. “See that, boy,”
he announced boastfully. “Don’t you wish you had a girl like her?”
Lefty threw off Panama’s hand disgustedly without making comment and
dropped down in his seat, strapping on his helmet and pulling the large
Visionaire goggles over his eyes just as the sound of the bugle to take
off came to the ears of all.
A wild shout arose from the men seated in the line of planes as each
pilot exultantly gave his ship “the gun,” taxiing down the great field
into formation, waiting a moment for the final sign from the commander.
The flight commander, in the first plane, rose and looked down the line
of ships, making certain that formation had been made and all were
accounted for.
He lifted his arm, which was a signal for every other pilot to do the
same. Making certain that the way was clear, he dropped his hand, giving
his plane the gun, and the great, crusading air fleet began to taxi down
the field with a deafening roar of the motors and swiftly moving
propellers.
As the planes gained altitude, Panama, still wearing a jubilant
expression of victory, looked out over the fuselage and waved down to
Elinor who was still standing, with upturned head, watching the progress
of the ships.
The sergeant turned and motioned to Lefty to look down but the boy,
understanding his object in requesting him to do so, merely scowled
sullenly and kept his eyes straight ahead.
Flying south, the planes fell into battle formation, creating a
beautiful spectacle to view from the earth far below just as the sun
rose, spreading its majestic glory and warmth over a bright and gorgeous
Florida morning.
After reaching his flying altitude, Panama held the stick with his knees
as he nervously unwrapped the package Elinor had given to him before he
left, his eyes eagerly resting upon some candy, a few packages of
cigarettes and a large plug of chewing tobacco on top of which he found
a note that read, “Good luck—Elinor.”
In the rear cockpit, Lefty followed suit by opening his package and
discovering a small sewing kit with some buttons and a copy of
Lindbergh’s book, “We.”
A small white card protruded from the corner of the book and with some
hesitance, Lefty pulled it out and read the words that completely upset
his emotions, causing him to wish that he had left Elinor in a different
frame of mind, and yet, troubling him over the fact that this romance,
if it didn’t end for once and for all, might break Panama’s heart.
The sergeant looked back at Lefty, still wearing a broad, happy grin as
he held up Elinor’s gift, he allowed the boy to read the note.
Phelps nodded his head, attempting to smile unbegrudgingly. Panama then
placed the box out of sight, folding the note and carefully putting it
away in the pocket of his windjammer.
The boy shook his head despairingly, sighed deeply and once more
unfolded the small piece of white paper upon which the girl had
scribbled: “I’ll miss you—Elinor.”
Once again he read those few lines and the world of happiness they
promised if he only dared so much as say the word.
He watched Panama, now skillfully manipulating the plane. A sudden
feeling of security and warmth came upon him and he gazed at the man
before him with honest gratitude and an undying vow of devotion and
friendship upon his lips.
Slowly he folded Elinor’s note and tore it in two, dropping the pieces
overboard to be separated and lost forever.