Paul Holleran

Emory's Story


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along the way. A day felt like a week. He and Jack now knew more about each other than either of them knew about anyone else in the world. Both boys were truly scared out of their minds, but only Em would admit it. Em knew that Jack felt just like he did, but he also knew that he would never let on as though he did. What awaited them in Hawaii was still unknown, even though they would be there in less than two days, assuming the fog ever lifted. From San Francisco, they would fly eight hours to the island chain that was part of the Bering Strait. This they learned upon their arrival in California. As far as anyone at the army base knew, they were to remain on site until four o’clock in the afternoon the following day. Then they were to be taken to the military airfield on the north side of the bay. There they would board the flight that would take them via Alaska to Hickam Airfield, on the island of Hawaii. Why they had to go through Alaska was just another new mystery to contemplate during the trip.

      For now, he and Jack sat looking into a dense blanket of gray. They saw nothing but reflections of themselves in the glass. Em looked at Jack’s reflection. He looked refreshed, like he had slept on a bed of roses and been fed breakfast in bed.

      “Em, I can’t wait to get to paradise. When this fog lifts, I’m going to turn the propellers on the plane myself. I’d fly it myself if they would show me how. It’s going to be intense. Landing on an iceberg along the way and then finding that tiny, little island out in the middle of the ocean, all while riding in a flying warehouse.” Jack said all this while continuing to stare out the window.

      “Enough already.” Em was looking at his friend with bewilderment. He could not understand Jack’s total lack of precaution about things. Sometimes he worried about his friend’s enthusiasm. Sometimes he was envious of it. Right now, he felt as if Jack was being a little naive about the adventure that awaited them. After all, this was wartime. They were not being trained for rescue. They were being trained for combat.

      Jack stood up and started to pace once more. He had been doing this for the better part of the previous hour. He would walk a few paces and then stop to stare out of the window as if the fog were his to command.

      Suddenly, as if on cue, the fog began to dissipate. Em looked through the glass, and objects began to appear one at a time. First, he saw jeeps, lots of jeeps, all loaded on pallets of some sort. They were stacked like bricks. Beyond the jeeps, the fog continued to roll away. Here in San Francisco, the fog was notorious. The bay was beautiful when it could actually be seen. Em never felt really sure that it was out there. As he watched the fog continue to recede, like a curtain being drawn, the planes and the airstrip became visible. It was apparent that no activity had been taking place. Then, as fast as it started to happen outside, it started to happen inside. People were now moving about and making noise. The fog was leaving. Planes were soon to follow.

      Em looked at Jack and caught sight of a rare look on his face. He saw concern. Whether it was about getting on the plane or something else, Em did not understand. Although he and Jack knew each other’s history, only Em had said how he actually felt about things. He knew where Jack grew up. He knew about his family. He knew about his friends, his girl, his pets, his school, and every other thing in his life. The one thing he did not discuss was how he felt. He said a lot of things about his feelings for Carolyn and about the air corps but never how he felt personally. Em understood his friend, so he never pressured him into revealing his emotions.

      “Hey. Is that everything you got?” Em asked.

      “What?” Jack blinked a couple of times and turned to face his friend. “Huh?”

      “I said, is that all you got?” Em was certain Jack had heard him, but he repeated himself just the same.

      “Yeah.” Jack still looked subdued suddenly.

      Only moments ago, Em remembered he had looked like the picture of certainty, ready to take on the world. Where did he go in his mind when he looked like that? What did he think about when he did not look like his confident self? Em decided to be patient. After all, he and Jack would be spending the better part of the next few years together. He slapped his friend on the back and said, “Let’s go to paradise.”

      They were led to the exit and through the doors to the awaiting cargo plane. Em was not exactly sure what specific plane this was. He was sure of one thing. It hardly looked like it could fly when it was empty. As he watched the trucks load the pallets into the cavernous hole in the back of the plane, fear swept over him like a blanket. He had to climb into this thing along with too many jeeps and the other pallets and fly more than sixteen hours until they finally reached their destination. He was looking forward to the flying. He was not looking forward to the taking off and landing. Somehow, that part of flying seemed to be the most frightening. He had seen newsreel and read about countless accidents involving planes. The accidents always happened during takeoff or during landing. The giant tub in front of him barely looked as if it could stay airborne for one hour, much less the seven-and-a-half-hour trip to Alaska. Em was ready to get this initial flight over with.

      “Hey, Jack.” Em ran to catch up to Jack, who was anxiously making his way to the ramp. “I sure hope this is not what we have to fly once we join Colonel Roth.”

      “No way,” Jack replied. “I’m sure his plane will be faster than this flying coffin.”

      “Stop it already. I’m not so sure of flying all night long in this thing anyway. You sure don’t make it any easier the way you talk about this plane.” Em stopped talking and looked into the back of the plane. As he ascended the ramp, he looked into a room the size of a large gymnasium. He could not help but think that this thing could never fly. The entire center of the plane was loaded previously and was already secured with belts and turnbuckles and ropes. It looked like some kind of crazy spiderweb. Em could not stop his mind. He could see this entire mountain of war machinery sliding through the plane. He was more frightened than ever.

      In the middle of the ropes and belts, one man walked. He continually checked and rechecked every knot, every buckle, and every pallet. Em thought that, at the very least, he looked capable. The man made his way through the maze toward him and Jack. Em could see his face the closer he got. It soon became apparent that this guy was not much older than him or Jack. This did not reassure Em in any way. When he had thought him older, he trusted him more. Now that he saw that the man was much too young for this responsibility, his confidence in him vanished.

      Em looked up at the young man. He really was about the same age as him and Jack. His height was average, and the oldest he could have been was about twenty-one. He was wearing some sort of coverall. It was olive green, just like everything else around here, Em thought. The only type of insignia visible was a single nametag on his left chest area: “Morton, Crew, 2274.”

      Em looked around and watched as more pallets were loaded onto the plane. Morton continued to check the straps closest to Em and Jack. He pointed to the side of the plane, indication that Em and Jack should move to that area.

      “Stand here and pay attention,” Morton spoke with an authoritative voice. He then moved to the center of the plane and guided more pallets onto the steel beams that ran along the bottom of the plane.

      Em and Jack backed up against the side of the plane. The activity continued around them. Morton was talking to an older man dressed exactly as he was. Together, they looked over some papers and began to retrieve straps and ropes from boxes protruding from the sides of the plane.

      “Why do we have to pay attention to this?” Jack quietly asked Em.

      “I don’t know. What the heck was in his ears?” Em asked

      “No idea, but didn’t it make you want to just reach out and box him upside the head?” Jack laughed as he said this.

      “Not really. I’m more worried about where we’re going to ride in this thing. I don’t see any seats.” Em was trying to scan around the interior of the plane.

      “I bet there’s seats up front somewhere.” Jack didn’t have many worries about seating. The look on his face said so. Em knew his friend could not wait to be underway. He also knew that Jack was most happy when something was happening. The only time Em ever saw a look other than confident