Battle Cry - Leon Uris [94]
“Hup two, hup two, reah po, reah po,” stuttered the waylaid Texan.
“For Chrisake you guys, get off the street,” I called.
“Hi, Mac. Lep right lep…lep flank…po.”
“Dammit, you guys get in here before the Shore Patrol brigs you all.”
A crowd of late watchers began to gather to observe the precision drill. A civilian standing next to me decided to give me a hand.
“Why don’t you fellows do like your sergeant says?” he shouted.
“Never mind,” I answered angrily, “if they want to drill, they can drill.”
“I was only trying to help you,” the civvy said.
“This is strictly an affair of the military, see?”
Speedy had gotten to his feet with the aid of a handy lamppost, and he leaned against the civilian. “Ain’t no goddam civvy going to tell us what to do,” he said, flipping the man’s silk tie up with his finger. He flipped it again and giggled, apparently amused.
“Don’t do that again,” the man snarled.
Speedy reached up and shoved the man’s hat down over his eyes and spun him about. Andy, who had sneaked up from the rear, clouted him and knocked him into my arms. He was out cold. I laid the poor fellow tenderly down on the sidewalk.
“Let’s get the hell out of here.”
We ran for several blocks, then were slowed by having to drag Seabags, who decided he did not wish to go any further. A few more moments found us catching our breath in the lobby of the plush Lincoln Hotel.
“What you hit that civvy for?” I demanded of Andy.
“Aw, gee, Mac, a guy can’t have no fun when you’re around.” He pouted.
“Come on, let’s go out and wreck a bar,” Speedy suggested. “Aw, L.Q., now stop crying.”
“The bars are closed,” I said. “I’m taking you guys back to the ship.”
They groaned. Danny arose and looked across the lobby. An all-night long distance operator was on duty at a counter beside a row of phone booths.
“Hey, wait a minute, wait a minute, men. I’m…I’m gonna phone Kathy. Come on, fellows, I want you all to meet my kitten.” He staggered to the counter. “Hey, lady,” he said, “I want to talk to Kathy.”
“Do you know the number, Marine?”
“Kathy, in Baltimore….”
“Kathy who?”
“Kathy Walker…I mean Forrester. The phone is Liberty 6056 or 5065. Her old man’s name is Marvin. Isn’t that a hot one—Marvin, Marvin Walker.”
“Do you know the street, sir?”
“What do you mean sir? I’m just a buck-assed private, lady.” He reached in his wallet, it was empty. “Reverse the charges, Marvin is a buddy of mine.”
“Hello,” a drowsy voice grunted.
“I have a long distance call from San Diego. Will you accept charges?”
“Who in the hell would be calling at five in the—San Diego, yes, of course.”
“Here is your party, sir.”
“All right you guys, stop shoving. Hello, Marvin!”
“Danny!”
“Hi, Marvin, old pal. Let me speak with my spouse.”
“You’re drunk.”
“Correct.”
“Dad, who is it?”
“It’s your husband, that’s who it is! He’s cockeyed drunk and it sounds like he has the whole Marine Corps in the phone booth with him.”
“Danny! Danny darling.”
“Hi.”
“Danny…Danny!”
“Hey look, honey. You know all the guys I wrote you about? Most of them are here. Old Mary is reading the Bible so you can’t meet him. I want you to meet—stop shoving, dammit.”
“Hi, cousin, my name is Seabags.”
“Hello, Seabags.”
“One at a time.”
“Hello, Kathy, I look at you all’s picture all the time. You sure are pretty.”
“Which one are you?”
“I’m Speedy, mam.”
“Oh, hello, Tex.”
“Come on, Andy, say something.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Honey, old Andy hates broads and L.Q. is crying. You wouldn’t want to talk to L.Q. when he’s crying.”
I shoved them all out of the booth and closed the door. “Hello, Kathy, this is Mac, Danny’s sergeant.”
“Hello, Mac.” Two words and I could understand the hunger that was inside Danny’s heart. It sounded like an angel’s voice.
“Look, honey…the boys are a little…tight. I tried to talk them out of doing this.”
“I understand.”
“Kathy.