Battle Cry - Leon Uris [240]
The grim irony was being so close to the States we could almost touch and taste and smell. It almost drove us crazy hearing American voices over the radio, reading American newspapers, and speaking to American girls at the USO near camp. But we were as far away as ever, perhaps farther, for the Corps had not chosen this forlorn campsite without reason.
Soon again came the hikes, the drills, the inspections, the field problems—the drudgery of soldiering. New replacements flooded in from the States. Fresh-faced, wisecracking youngsters. We didn’t take the trouble to ridicule them, for they stood in awe of the Guadalcanal and Tarawa veterans, now hard-beaten vets of twenty and twenty-one years of age. New equipment and more firepower filtered in.
But the Second Division was listless and tired. We all wanted home now, no bones about it. Yet, there was that inexplicable doggedness that told each man he would stick it out. We hiked the same miles but it was just going through the motions. We were old soldiers with moxey. Yes, even Sam Huxley just went through the motions now.
As weeks passed, again came the hope that this coming invasion would be the last, that they might let the Sixth establish the beachhead. And spirit was replaced by a new driving force. A killer drive. The Second Division, forgotten in the mountains of Hawaii, developed might, power, and the urge to be the professional killers we were accused of being in Hilo.
Then came the news the Fourth Marine Division had hit the Marshalls as a follow-up to Tarawa and that a Fifth Marine Division was being formed.
CHAPTER 1
Dearest Sam,
I am terribly excited. I’ve just finished seeing Colonel Malcolm. We lunched together at the officers’ club and he told me all about you. Oh, my darling, I’m so proud. I got a full account of the wonderful work you have done with your battalion and heard that you are up for another decoration. He also told me, off the record, that you are next in line to succeed him as commander of the Regiment. But darling, couldn’t your boys have thought up a better nickname for the battalion? I think it’s awful.
I know he shouldn’t have, but Colonel Malcolm said that you are in Hawaii. I’ve tried to think it out clearly but I’m afraid I can’t. The thought of you being so close simply overpowers any reason I might master.
Remember old Colonel Drake who retired several years ago? He has a place on Maui and he’s asked us time and again to visit him. It is just the next island from Hawaii. I could get over there somehow.
Darling, please don’t turn me down on this. I’ve tried being a Marine wife but I’m going to have to be selfish—as selfish as a wife who longs for her husband. You’ve had so little time in recent years. It seemed like a few months from the time you returned from Iceland till you went out again. I don’t care how short our time, Sam, but I must see you. I had braced myself to see the war through and I’ve not complained, but it all shattered when I found you were so close by.
I love you as I’ve always loved you and I miss you as I always miss you, with all my soul. The thought of seeing you changes everything and has me drunk with happiness.
Your loving wife,
Jean
Jean Huxley’s hand trembled as she closed the door of her room and ripped the seam of his return envelope.
My Jean,
You will notice from the postmark that this letter didn’t come through proper channels. I had it mailed in the States by a flyer friend of mine.
My life, if ever I’ve had to make a decision, if ever I’ve had to find words I didn’t want to say, this is that time.
When I read your letter I could hardly believe it. The thought of holding you in my arms again, the thought of