Battle Cry - Leon Uris [188]
“Leave me alone.”
“Come here, dammit!” I ordered.
Andy sulked up to me, sullen and limp. “I can’t take it no more, Mac, I can’t take it….”
“If you got any ideas about deserting, forget them, Andy.”
“Don’t try to stop me,” Andy hissed, “or I’ll kill you.”
I went to Gunner Keats and pleaded with him to let me go ashore with the next trip of the control boat. Keats didn’t ask why, but knew from the distress in my voice that it was urgent and he arranged a special skiff to run me in. As I headed for the Jacob’s ladder, Sam Huxley tapped me on the shoulder.
“Mac,” he said.
“Colonel Huxley…I’m sorry, sir, you startled me.”
“Mac, don’t fail. She’s too nice a girl. I don’t want to have to take him in irons….”
“I wish to God, sir, I didn’t have to do this.”
“Good luck.”
I was in dungarees but that wasn’t out of place in the city. All about me were Marines in the same dress, walking and talking slowly with their women, saying bittersweet farewells, trying to catch a lifetime in each tick of the clock. Wellington was like a city in mourning. Girls, eyes red from crying, gathered near the docks to wait for the last liberty boats. Their Marines were going, never to return. An interlude on an island of beauty in a sea of war. The lights in the homes of Wellington were dimmed and eyes were turned to the harbor.
I tapped on Pat’s door. It burst open. Pat greeted me with anguished face.
“I’m sorry to startle you. I should have phoned.”
“Oh, come in, Mac,” she said. I could see her trembling as she ushered me into the living room.
“Excuse my appearance. Our dress uniforms are packed.”
“Do sit down, Mac. May I make you a cup of tea?”
I tried to start the conversation, then walked over to her and placed my hand on her shoulder. She sank into an armchair and whispered, “What is it, Mac? Tell me.”
“Andy…wants to desert. He’s coming ashore tonight.”
She sat silently. I lit a cigarette and offered her one. “What do you want of me?” she finally asked.
“You know what you have to do.”
“Do I know, Mac? Do I?” she said harshly. “Do I know?”
“Could you ever live in peace with that other boy in a grave in Crete?”
“You have no right to say that.”
“Do you want to see that big Swede turn into a shell? It will kill him and you, too.”
“What does it matter? At least I’ll have him. Oh, Mac, how can you ask this of me?”
“Because…you could never betray him.”
“Betray him to what?” She rose from the chair. “Oh, God, I knew this was going to happen. Why did I let it? Where is our war, Mac, tell me…why does it have to take him, tell me!”
“What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you it’s all wrong? Do you want me to say, run off and let him become a deserter? Should I tell you that it’s time to stop killing each other like animals?” I met her icy stare. “He’s a man, he has a job. Don’t ask me why. Dammit, Pat, you’re no different than a billion women in this war…. Goon, run…hide…take him and live in the shadows. To hell with both of you!”
She walked to the window and clutched the curtains until her knuckles turned white.
“Pat, I often wish I had the courage of a woman. In the long run, I suppose that what a man is asked to do is small beside what you women must bear.”
She turned and faced me. Her eyes were closed. She nodded her head slowly.
I walked to the table and put on my pith helmet and folded my poncho.
“Mac.”
“Yes?”
“Good luck…to all the boys. Write to me and look after him.”
Andy rapped on the door hurriedly that night. It opened and they were in each other’s arms.
“Hold me, hold me tightly.”
“I’m afraid I’ll hurt the baby.”
“Hold me, darling, hold me.”
“Aw, honey, you’re all upset. I’m here now…I’m here…shhh, honey, shhh.”
She regained her composure and went to the kitchen to prepare some tea. He followed her and leaned against the door frame wondering how he was going to say it.
“Pat. I ain’t going back to the ship.”
She did not answer.
“I said, I ain’t going back.”
“I expected it.”
He came to her and put his huge hands on her arms. “We can do it, Pat. I got it figured. I found a place in Nagio