ran from the top of an ocean cliff and ended well inland. Both Gustafson’s and Jake’s greatest fears were that the lights would be seen by the wrong people and missed by the right ones. Farther inland, but on a line from the cliff, their radio sent out a beeping signal every minute. The radio beeps were long-range homing devices, while the rectangle outlined by the small fires was the ultimate destination.
There was a risk of detection, but, despite their apprehensions, it was deemed a small one. The Japanese knew the Americans sent messages from the interior of the island and had made little attempt to stop them. It was also routine for the Japanese not to send out patrol aircraft at night. They’d gotten used to seeing nothing and had stopped looking. What few planes they did use to patrol over Hawaii came during the light of day.
There was even less of a chance of detection from the ground.
First, no one lived in the vicinity, and, second, the Japanese didn’t send ground patrols this far west of Hilo. While they had stepped up their efforts near Hilo since the massacre, this part of the Big Island might as well not have existed.
Jake noted that the daylight was not that far off. There was a definite glow to his rear, indicating that the sun was about to rise over Hilo. He hoped the Japs had slept soundly.
“Yes!” said Gustafson exultantly. He pointed out over the darker western sky.
“Can’t see a thing, Gus,” Jake said as he stared into the gloom.
“Then clean your eyeballs and look where I’m pointing.”
A few seconds later, Jake did see the dark silhouette against the sky. Almost immediately, the plane dipped gently and landed between the rows of fires. One down. Jake felt like applauding, and a couple of the score of men with them did clap their hands.
In intervals of two to five minutes, the rest of the flight touched down. Immediately, the wings of the F4F Wildcats were folded and Gustafson’s people covered the planes with camouflage netting that resembled the barren landscape of western Hawaii.
As this was happening, other men ran with straw brooms to wipe away the tire tracks.
“Plane! Freeze!”
The yell had come from a lookout and was their worst fear. If they were detected, their efforts were doomed. They all dropped to their knees and curled up. One of the pilots was slow to respond and had to be manhandled to the ground.
“Clear,” yelled the lookout. He looked a little shamefaced. The “plane” he’d seen over the hills leading toward Hilo had been a large bird. Jake slapped him on the shoulder and told him he’d done the right thing by being cautious. Privately, Jake thought he’d aged a decade in the few minutes since the warning cry.
Eleven planes had landed. There were supposed to be twelve. The flight leader was Lieutenant Ernie Magruder, USN, who looked too young for his rank. He had a pencil-thin mustache that didn’t make him look mature. Jake guessed his age at twenty-one.
They waited awhile and then, sadly and reluctantly, gave up on the stray plane. The sky was bright and the fires were put out. “Nielson didn’t make it,” Magruder said softly. “Helluva way to go.”
“Could he have found his way back to the carrier?” Jake asked.
Magruder shook his head. “Not a chance. No way on earth he could have found an unlit carrier in the middle of the ocean, particularly since the carrier would have moved out in another direction. Nielson was a volunteer, Colonel. He knew his orders and he took his chances.” Magruder added the last statement with more bravado than Jake thought he felt. The idea of flying off to death in an endless ocean sent a chill down his spine. God bless Nielson, he thought.
The pilots’ orders had been to make no effort to survive in the event of engine failure, getting lost, or some other problem. They all knew the success of their mission would be compromised if they were taken alive, or even if their remains or the wreckage of their planes were found. If they were unable to complete their mission, they were to dive straight into the sea. Death would be quick, and the plane would sink to the bottom of the ocean, where both plane and pilot would be lost forever.
Magruder took a deep breath. “Eleven out of twelve ain’t too bad, now, is it?”
“It’s outstanding,” Jake said fervently.
He turned and found he already had a hard time seeing the planes through the netting and the dirt that had been piled against them. They would be invisible from the sky, and no one ever came along this stretch of harsh ground. When night fell again, they would be moved a little farther inland, to where they would be half buried. There, the pilots would double as mechanics to prepare their planes for their mission.
“This is Hawaii, isn’t it?” Magruder asked, surprising Jake.
“You didn’t know?”
Magruder grinned. “Hell no, sir. We volunteered for a mission to kick some Jap ass. Then we were shipped out to Africa and flown to a British carrier off India. We’ve been virtual prisoners for a couple of weeks and never let out on deck or had any casual contact with the Brits. When we launched, we were told what direction to go and how long to fly. Other than that, this could be Ohio for all I know.” He laughed. “After we arrived, they said we’d be filled in on the details, although, if this is Hawaii, I’ll bet you two bits we’re gonna hit Pearl Harbor.”
Jake hid his surprise. American planes launched off a British carrier and without any real idea where they were going? Incredible. But now he had an air force.
“Yeah,” Jake said, “this is Hawaii, and you’re the Hawaiian Air Force. And yeah, you’re gonna get a chance to kick some Jap ass.”
Magruder nodded. “Great. Only let’s call this Nielson Force, after the poor guy who didn’t make it.”
Jamie Priest held tightly to the slender body of Suzy Dunnigan. “This is wrong, you know,” he managed to say. They were both choked up with emotion brought on by the reality of her imminent departure. It was harder than either realized to let go of what had been a marvelous time together.
“I know,” Suzy said, wiping a tear off her cheek. “Here I’m going off to war while you wait at home. It’s supposed to be the other way around, isn’t it? I have to go, but don’t be too sad. After all, it’s not like I’m going very far or for very long.”
Congress had finally authorized women in the military, and Suzy’s nomination had been endorsed by both Nimitz and Spruance, which made for immediate acceptance. She would spend a month or two in training, which would begin sometime in August, and then be commissioned an ensign in the WAVES. She hoped she would be stationed back in San Diego, but they acknowledged that anything was possible when it came to the navy.
“I’m glad you’re taking care of the house,” she said. “That’s a big worry off my mind. I never really cared for the place until my dad was killed. Now, it’s all I have left of him.” Jamie felt honored by her trust and hugged her again.
Jamie had begun by regularly spending the nights with her and then, after a few weeks, had officially changed his residence to hers. Some on Nimitz’s staff were shocked, but the two lovers didn’t care. Jamie and Suzy had ignored the world and spent every waking moment reveling in the pleasure of each other. A previous remark about clothes referred to the fact that, on weekends, they spent all possible time as naked as the day they were born. The weather was balmy, and nudity simplified and expedited their lovemaking. Suzy had even managed to initiate the fairly conservative Jamie into the delights of swimming naked in the ocean at night and making love in the sand.
He would miss all that. More important, he would miss Suzy Dunnigan. He had told her, even brought up the subject of marriage, but she had demurred. She had to wait until her tour of duty was completed. She owed that to her father, and Jamie could not argue the point. Both hoped they would not have to wait until the war was over and life was more settled. Forecasts put the end of the conflict as far out as 1950, which depressed them both. She loved him, but she had a duty to perform that was as strong as his.
Outside, a cab pulled up and honked. They embraced once more, and she departed, walking briskly and not looking back.
As the cab pulled away, Jamie felt a desperate loneliness. So this is what it’s like, he thought, for wives and mothers to send their men off to war. At least Suzy would be spared the likelihood, of combat, although many places that would have been considered “safe” in previous conflicts were well within the range of bombers, and transit across the ocean was subject to attack by submarines. He hoped that she would be assigned stateside.
He still chafed at the restrictions on his going back to combat but had come to terms with them. Nimitz had been explicit-no combat. With so much time now on his hands, Jamie would work harder and longer on his duties
