Winds of War (117 page)

Byron took Madeline’s lei and put it around his neck. “Boy, these are strong frangipani. God knows when we three will ever be together again like this. I’m in a mood, but I love you both. How’s the booze situation at your house, Warren?”

“Ninety-seven percent. We just topped off.”

“Great. I intend to burn you down to fifty percent.”

“By all means.”

Byron came on the latest airmail
Time
at Warren’s house, and read it in a deck chair among the multiple roots of a banyan tree, while Warren, Janice, and their guests grew gay on hors d’oeuvres and rum drinks. At sea for two weeks, he had heard only fragmentary news.

When the party reached the stage of hula dancing to the guitar music of the grinning houseboy, Warren began broiling steaks in billows of fragrant smoke. Meantime Hugh Cleveland and Madeline did a barefoot hula while the Navy people and islanders clapped and laughed, and a photographer from the society page snapped pictures. Byron sourly watched his sister’s white feet writhe in the grass, and her pink-sheathed bottom gyrate; and he wondered who was mad – he or this playful group. According to
Time,
the Germans were rolling through Russia exactly as they had through Poland two years before. It was the same month, September. The cheery German claims, backed by combat photographs, were most convincing. The pictures showed villages afire, skies aswarm with Luftwaffe, roads through cornfields jammed with refugees, and unshaven Russian prisoners behind barbed wire in sullen hordes. The scenes brought vividly back to Byron’s mind the days when he and Natalie had drawn together: the flight in the old automobile from Cracow to Warsaw, his wound, the child on the road crying over her mother’s smashed face, the orange flares, the whistling bombs, Natalie in the malodorous jammed hospital, the song of grasshoppers in no-man’s-land.

Carrying two plates of sliced steak and french fries, Warren came and sat down beside him on the grass. “Eat hearty, my lad.”

Byron said, “Thanks. Pretty grim issue of
Time.
”

“Hell, Briny, you knew the Germans would take the Russkis, didn’t you? The Russian’s a hardy soldier, but that Bolshevik government’s just a mess of crackpot politicians. Stalin shot half his officers in ‘38, including all the professionals left from the Czarist days. You can’t fight a war without career officers. That’s where the Germans have us all licked. That General Staff of theirs has been going for a hundred years. The day they lost the last war, why, they just started collecting maps and dope for fighting this one. That’s a savvy outfit. How about some wine? California Burgundy gets here in pretty fair shape.”

“Sure.”

Returning with a big purple bottle, Warren said, “Well, there’s one good thing. If Hitler does take Moscow, the Japs will jump north to grab their end of Siberia. That’ll give us a breather. Otherwise they’re a cinch to come south soon. Every day they’re getting lower on oil. We’re sure as hell not ready for them. We need a year just to harden the Philippines to where we can hold.”

Byron slapped the copy of
Time
. “Incidentally, did you read about your father-in-law’s latest speech? He wants to explore making a deal with the Germans.”

“I know. Well, he’s way off base on that. Hitler’s not making any deals, not while he’s winning so big. But eventually, Briny, the Krauts may be easier to come to terms with than the Japs. They’re white people.”

“True, except for starters we’d have to shoot our Jews.”

Warren slowly turned his bronzed face at his brother. An embarrassed smile played on his thin lips. “Even the Germans aren’t shooting their Jews, guy. I think their policy is disgusting, but -”

“You don’t know what they’re doing. I run into a stone wall when I try to tell people here what the Germans are like. Branch Hoban thinks this war is Saxon civilization against the rising tide of Asia, and the Russians count as Asia, and we and the British should wise up and make common cause with the Nazis in a hurry, because they’re fighting our battle, and it’s the white race’s last chance. He gets all this out of books by a nut called Homer Lea. He reads those books to pieces.
The Valor of Ignorance
is the main one, and
The Day of the Saxon
.”

“I’ve read Homer Lea,” said Warren, looking at his watch. “He’s a screwball, but pretty interesting – well, our friend Vic’s due for a bottle, but it’s a cinch Jan’s not going to abandon the governor.”

“I’ll feed the baby.”

“Do you like babies, or something?”

“I like this one.”

While Victor lay on his uncle’s lap drinking mild, Byron drank California Burgundy. Each finished his bottle at about the same time. He tucked the baby away in his side-porch crib, and returned to the lawn. The breeze had died, and it was very hot. The scent from the lemon trees filled Byron with melancholy. He lay face down under the banyan tree and fell asleep. When he woke, Lieutenant Aster, drink in hand, was shaking him.

“Blazes,” Byron said, sitting up, a stale taste of wind in his mouth, “I was supposed to report in at three, wasn’t I? Are you here to take me back in irons?”

“Amnesty. You’re out of hack,” Aster grinned, “and you’ve got twenty-four hours leave. This just came in on the harbor circuit from Rome, forwarded via Lisbon, Washington, and San Francisco.”

He handed a dispatch to Byron, who read it sitting cross-legged on the grass.

ENSIGN BYRON HENRY, USS DEVILFISH X CAN YOU THINK OF A GOOD NAME FOR A SEVEN-POUND BOY X BOTH FINE BOTH LOVE YOU X NATALIE AND WHOSIS HENRY

Byron bowed his head and put a hand over his face. Like his father, he had a simple religious streak; he muttered a prayer of thanks for the miracle of a boy, born from the wild lovemaking in Lisbon that had briefly joined two bodies, now almost as far apart as they could be on the planet. After a moment he looked up with a slow smile, his eyes glistening.

“How about that, Lady?”

“Congratulations, Briny.”

Byron got to his feet, looking around dazedly at the party. The radio was pouring out “Lovely Hula Hands,” Janice was wiggling barefoot with the captain of the
Enterprise
, the governor was dancing with Madeline, evincing pop-eyed pleasure at the play of her hips, and Hugh Cleveland was singing an obscene parody that brought barks of male laughter an delighted shrieks from the women. “I guess I’ll tell my brother and sister.”

Aster strolled beside him, rattling the ice in his glass. “Quite a wingding here. Isn’t that the governor? Your sister-in-law is sure nice. I hardly had my foot inside the door when she handed me a planter’s punch.”

“Janice is okay.”

“Is that her name, Janice? Pretty name. She’s about the best-looking white woman I’ve seen on this godforsaken island.”

“Easy, Lady.”

“Why, Briny, I admire her like a sunset, or the Washington Monument.”

“Say, Madeline -”

Hurrying past him toward the house behind Cleveland and the Hawaiian houseboy, Madeline flipped a hand at him. “Long-distance call from New York, honey. Our sponsor. Imagine!”

Byron told the news to Warren and Janice. Before he could stop her, Janice made a delighted announcement. The guests ringed him with alcoholic jokes, congratulations and questions, exclaiming over the odd fact that his wife was away oft in Italy. The society columnist of the Honolulu
Star
, a bony hawk-faced blonde named Petsy Peters, stood at Byron’s elbow, scribbling notes.

He went into the house after Madeline. He wanted to be the first to tell her. The telephone lay in its rack on a table in the hall. He heard a chuckle, and glancing down the zigzagging halls to the side-porch where the baby lay asleep, he saw Hugh Cleveland embracing Madeline, out of sight of the lawn. Cleveland was holding Byron’s sister with both hands by the rump. Her pink skirt was pulled up in back, exposing her thighs and underwear. She was clinging to him with obscene intimacy. Byron walked out of the house into the sunlight.

“I guess I’ll get back to the
Devilfish
,” he said to Warren.

“Why? I thought Branch gave you a twenty-four.”

“I want to write Natalie and the folks. Maybe shoot off a cable or two.”

“Briny, the governor’s just invited the whole crowd over to Washington Place for cocktails with Cleveland.”

“Cleveland’s in the house there kissing Madeline. I mean kissing her, and she’s going right along with it.”

“Is she?” the aviator said with a crooked grin. “I guess their sponsor liked the broadcast.”

Madeline came hurrying out of the house, her face alight, her hair disorderly, and ran to her brothers. Behind her Cleveland emerged, wiping his mouth with a kerchief. “Hey, guess what, fellows?” Madeline chirruped. “He talked to me, too. He said I sounded fine! But that’s nothing. We had a spot check rating of 23.5. That’s only four points less than Fred Allen - and on our very first show!”

Byron took the dispatch from his breast pocket showed it to his sister.

“Oh my! More good news! Say, Hugh, what do you know? Briny’s wife had her baby.”

“Hey! Congrats, papa!” He put out a hand that Byron ignored, but he took no offense. “Come on, Madeline, let’s tell the governor what Chet Fenton said.”

Byron, arms folded, glowered at their departing backs.

“Look, Briny,” his brother said, “you’re not going to make trouble, are you? You’ll embarrass Janice.”

“The grinning son of a bitch,” muttered Byron.

“Come off it. She’s over twenty-one.”

“He’s a married man. I’ll talk to Madeline, if you won’t. Depending on what she says, I may tell the bastard to keep his distance from her, if he doesn’t want the shit beaten out of him.”

Warren sized up his brother with amusement. “He’s got the weight on you, and he looks in good shape.”

“That’s just fine,” Byron said.

The radio began blaring the news signal. It was four o’clock and the governor had turned up the volume of the little portable sitting on the outdoor bar.

“
Berlin. German Supreme Headquarters announces the capture of Kiev and claims the greatest victory in the war, and perhaps in the history of the world. According to German sources, four entire Russian armies, numbering almost a million men, have been surrounded and cut to pieces, and with the fall of Kiev all organized resistance in the vast pocket has come to an end. Radio Berlin proclaimed at midnight that, quote, ‘The Soviet Union no longer has a military capability, and the end of hostilities on the eastern front is in sight.’ More news in a moment. Now a word about Pepsi-Cola.
”

The governor said, swishing his rum drink as merry girlish voices burst into a jingle, “Well, well. The Russkis would really seem to be on the run, hey?”

“Where is Kiev, Governor?” said Petsy Peters. “Is that where caviar comes from? I hope this doesn’t mean no more cavvy. There’s always the Persian, but that’s so expensive.”

“Kiev is in the north, I think,” the governor said. Frankly my Russian geography is not so hot.”

The Pepsi-Cola commercial ended. The announcer came on with drama in his voice:

“
We interrupt this newscast for an urgent announcement by the Joint Army-Navy Command of the Hawaiian islands. SURPRISE ENEMY ATTACK ON HAWAII! This is a DRILL. A hostile fleet of battleships and carriers has been located approximately four hundred fifty miles northwest of Oahu. This is a DRILL
.”

“Oh no!” Petsy Peters said. “Not again. Four o’clock on a Sunday afternoon! What a misery! Are they going to keep us off the streets again for hours and hours?”

The governor put his finger to his lips.

“
All leaves and liberties are cancelled, and all military personnel will return to their units at once. This is a DRILL. We repeat, this a DRILL. Surprise enemy attack on Hawaii! All military personnel return to their units at once. Special permission is granted to the players of the baseball game between the Air Command and the Battleship Force to complete the ninth inning, and for spectators to remain at the game until then. Restrictions on civilian travel are not, repeat, not in force
.”

“Well, thank goodness for that, at least,” said Petsy Peters.

“
All ships in the area will report to force commanders readiness to sortie, but will not, repeat not, leave anchorages or moorings unless ordered. At 1830 target planes towing sleeves will simulate attack on Pearl Harbor. All ships and shore batteries will conduct tracking and aiming exercises but will not, repeat not, fire ammunition. Vessels in dry dock or alongside for repairs will proceed with maintenance work and are excused from this exercise. We repeat. Surprise attack on Hawaii. This is a DRILL. This announcement will be repeated
.”

The governor snapped off the radio. “I wasn’t sure they’d still try to get it in today. It was originally scheduled for ten this morning, Hugh, but
The Happy Hour
conflicted.”

“Yes, sir, that was a real courtesy. My sponsor is writing letters of appreciation to the Army and the Navy.”

“That’s a fine idea.”

The general invitation for cocktails at Washington Place, the governor’s mansion, was called off. The party rapidly broke up. Soon only Cleveland, Madeline, Janice and the two submariners remained on the lawn amid the party debris, with the governor and his wife. Aster and Byron were in no hurry to leave because the
Devilfish
was in dry dock.

“Why not join us at Washington Place for a drink, Janice?” said the governor. “Hugh and Madeline are coming along.”

“Oh, not without a man, thank you, Governor,” Janice said.

“There’s an old Navy rule against sticking one’s neck out, Janice,” Lieutenant Aster spoke up, with a fetching grin. “But I don’t know when I’ll get another chance to see the inside of that mansion. I volunteer.”

Janice laughed. “Why, you’re on, Lieutenant. Give me three minutes, Governor.”

Byron separated Madeline from the others, saying he wanted to talk to her and would take her to Washington Place in Warren’s car.