Rising Sun

flat-chested, even bookish looking when she put on her glasses. Dane disagreed. He thought she was pretty and seemed very pleasant even though she hadn’t spoken to him before now. He’d always thought that the old saying that men don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses was nonsense.

“I became a nurse because, even though this is the twentieth century, there aren’t all that many occupations where a woman is welcome. Nursing is one, and I do enjoy helping people, so I studied at the University of Maryland. I’m a Terrapin, and I’m okay with a nursing career.”

“Going to be a nurse forever?”

“Unless I marry some rich guy, and schoolteachers don’t qualify.”

He laughed. “If my father’s real estate schemes work out, maybe I’ll join him and get rich and look you up.” His leg stiffened and he winced.

“Don’t complain about the pain, Lieutenant,” she said as he bit back a groan, “it’ll go away if you work at it and, besides, you don’t want to be left behind, do you?”

“What are you talking about and why don’t you call me by my first name?”

“You’ll be Tim when you’re out of here; until then, we keep it formal and militarily correct, even though I am a mere civilian.”

“All right, but what do you mean about being left behind?”

“You’re still on Spruance’s staff, aren’t you?”

“What’s left of it,” he said grimly, recalling their two days in the sub and subsequently being picked up by a flying boat and taken to Pearl Harbor.

Spruance was recovering well and already out of the hospital. He was dealing with the terrible fact that, along with the two carriers under his command and most of their crews, almost all of his staff had been killed in the disastrous Battle of Midway, which was commonly being referred to as the Midway Massacre. After destroying Spruance’s force, the Japanese had found the remaining third carrier, the Yorktown, near Midway and sunk it as well, along with two cruisers and six destroyers. TF 17’s commander, Admiral Frank Jack Fletcher, had gone down with his ship.

Thus, all three invaluable and, for the moment at least, irreplaceable carriers had been lost. Japanese casualties had been one damaged carrier, one submarine sunk, and a handful of airplanes shot down.

Midway was the latest in a long litany of defeats in the Pacific that had begun with Pearl Harbor and ran on through Wake Island, Guam, the Philippines, Java Sea, Coral Sea, and now Midway. Some argued that the battle of the Coral Sea was at worst a draw, but Tim thought that it was a loss even though a likely attack on Australia had been blunted. He expected the Japs would be back attacking Australia soon enough since the defeat at Midway. Jimmy Doolittle’s bombing attack on Tokyo had momentarily buoyed spirits but had accomplished nothing in the way of a military objective.

Amanda took his arm and steered him down another hallway that led outdoors and he walked gingerly down a street. It felt good to be in the fresh, flower-scented warm air of Hawaii. He could almost forget about the war. Almost, since just about every male was in uniform. He felt his strength returning and could walk fairly steadily now, but he liked the feel of Amanda’s hand on his arm. She came a little above his shoulder.

“Lieutenant, assuming you’re correct that you are still on Spruance’s staff, you are all going back to California. Same with Nimitz’s people. Rumor has it the navy feels that Hawaii is a lost cause since there aren’t very many major American ships remaining in the Pacific to protect it.”

Tom thought it made a hard and painful kind of sense. He’d seen the admiral once since their rescue when he’d visited Tim. He’d thanked Tim for saving his life—and for not killing him. Spruance had smiled when he said it, but Dane saw the agony in his eyes. All those men, all those ships now resting on the bottom of the ocean, had been his.

Amanda continued. “As I understand it, the rules for evacuation are simple. If you can walk, you’ll be evacuated by submarine; otherwise, you’ll have to wait for a destroyer or a transport, or even a hospital ship.”

“I’ll take my chances on the sub,” he said grimly.

Tim had hated his first trip in the claustrophobic submarine, but quickly decided a second trip would be better than waiting in Hawaii for the world to end. There had been too many attacks on transports to make them viable alternatives. As for hospital ships, the Japanese record for atrocities included attacks on those unarmed and helpless vessels as well. He handed Amanda his crutches and walked unsteadily but unaided. He was determined to be ready to walk onto a sub.

Amanda was about to comment when air raid sirens went off. This was the first time it had happened since Dane had arrived in Hawaii and he was momentarily perplexed.

“Maybe the Japs are back,” she said and grabbed his arm, “There were a lot of false alarms after December seventh, with a lot of Nervous Nellies seeing Japanese bogeymen in their flower gardens, but who knows.” She grabbed his arm more tightly and pushed him. “Let’s see how fast you can limp to a shelter.”

Shelter was a cement block building that quickly filled with people and Tim moved a lot quicker than he thought he could. Fear was a great motivator, he decided.

In Dane’s opinion, the shelter was too fragile to stand up to much of a bombing. Antiaircraft guns began their crump-crump firing, and they were followed by the sounds of explosions. Amanda grabbed his hand and held on tightly. Her eyes were wide with fright in the dim light and he thought his mirrored hers. Clearly, this was not a false alarm.

“I thought nurses don’t get scared,” he said, and put his arm around her. She didn’t resist; instead, she shuddered and pressed against him.

“This one does. Right now I wish I had stayed in California. I had a nice job as a nurse in San Diego.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Are you trying to distract me?”

“Yes.”

Something exploded down the street, sending debris raining on the shelter. “Keep up the good work,” she said, and quivered. “I came here because it was an opportunity to earn decent money and see the wonders of Hawaii. I love sailing and it seemed like a heaven-sent opportunity. I never thought going to paradise might actually send me to heaven, or hell for that matter. My contract is for a year, but now it might be forever.”

“What will you do if the navy goes?”

“No idea. If there’s a way to get back to the mainland, I’ll take it. I know of a large enough sailboat that could make it with enough supplies and a little luck, but that would be an act of desperation.”

“Are you that good a sailor?” he asked with a smile. She was slender, almost thin, but the way she had steered him toward the shelter indicated she was stronger than she looked.

“We may have to find out. And maybe things are getting desperate. The government has introduced food rationing already and that’s not a good sign.”

No, it isn’t, he thought. Rationing might mean that starvation was right around the corner. As a member of the military he was part of a privileged caste and had all the food he required, at least so far. He felt vaguely guilty for the hearty breakfast he’d had that morning—eggs, bacon, toast, and pineapple juice, of course. What were the civilians eating? He hoped Amanda was eating well enough, too. She didn’t look like she could stand to miss too many meals.

The all-clear sounded and they left the shelter. They walked in silence back to the hospital. A petty officer was waiting beside Tim’s bed. “Sir, are you Lieutenant Dane? If so, you’re wanted right away in Admiral Spruance’s meeting room. I’ve got a car so I’ll take you there.”

Dane nodded and squeezed Amanda’s arm. “I’ll call you,” he said. She smiled and nodded.

Spruance did not host the meeting. A navy captain in his late thirties glared at Dane for being late, but softened immediately when he noticed his bandages and stitches, and the cane which Tim had swapped for his crutches. The Purple Heart was pinned to his uniform.

“Okay, we’re all here, even the walking wounded,” he said, nodding at Tim. “Glad you could make it, Dane. For those who don’t know me, I’m Captain Bill Merchant and I’m a senior aide to the admiral. My job is to get everyone up to speed on what’s happening right now, and what’s going to happen real soon. In short, we’re evacuating this place. All senior military personnel and their staffs, and that means us, will depart by sub tomorrow night. You will be limited to one small suitcase, so pack light. Take only essential personal stuff as uniforms and such will be reissued in San Diego. Other military personnel and the more seriously wounded will be taken out by