From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [445]
“I been watching him,” Chief grinned. “The son of a bitch is drunk as a coot. He was down to Mrs Kipfer’s last night when me and Pete was there.”
“I hope his wife dont find out,” Warden said.
“He ought to have a medal,” Chief said still laughing.
“He probly will,” Warden grinned.
As it turned out, later, he did. M/Sgt John L Deterling; the Silver Star; for unexampled heroism in action.
Another V of three flashed sliding in from the southeast and Warden turned and ran back to Pete’s chimney as everybody opened up with a joyous roar. Firing with the BAR forearm resting on his hand on the chimney corner, he watched his tracers get lost in the cloud of tracers around the lead plane spraying the nose, spraying the cockpit and on back into the tail assembly. The plane shivered like a man trying to get out from under a cold shower and the pilot jumped in his seat twice like a man tied to a hot stove. They saw him throw up his arms helplessly in a useless try to ward it off, to stop it pouring in on him. There was a prolonged cheer. A hundred yards beyond the quad, with all of them watching now in anticipatory silence, the little Zero began to fall off on one wing and slid down a long hill of air onto one of the goalposts of the 19th Infantry football field. It crashed into flames. A vast happy college-yell cheer went up from the quad and helmets were thrown into the air and backs were slapped as if our side had just made a touchdown against Notre Dame.
Then, as another V of three came in from the northeast, there was a wild scramble for helmets.
“You got him, Pete!” Grenelli yelled, bobbing around on the bucking tripod leg, “you got him!”
“Got him hell,” Pete said without stopping firing. “Nobody’ll ever know who got that guy.”
“Hey, Milt!”
In the lull, Chief Choate was yelling at him from the roof edge.
“Hey, Milt! Somebody’s yellin for you down below.”
“Comin up!” Warden bawled. Behind him as he ran, Grenelli was pleading:
“Come on, Pete. Let me take it for a while now. You got one already.”
“In a minute,” Pete said. “In a minute. I just want to try one more.”
Looking down over the wall, Warden saw Lt Ross standing in the yard looking up angrily, large bags under his eyes, a field cap on his uncombed head, his pants still unbuttoned, and his shoes untied and his belt unbuckled. He started buttoning his pants without looking down.
“What the hell are you doing up there, Sergeant?” he yelled. “Why arent you down here taking care of the Company? We’re going to move out for the beach in less than an hour. Its probably alive with Japs already.”
“It’s all taken care of,” Warden yelled down. “The men are rolling full field packs right now in the squadroom.”
“But we’ve got to get the kitchen and supply ready to move, too, goddam it,” Lt Ross yelled up.
“The kitchen is bein pack,” Warden yelled down. “I gave Stark the orders and he’s doing it now. Should be all ready in fifteen minutes.”
“But the supply—” Lt Ross started to yell up.
“They’re loading clips and belts for us,” Warden yelled down. “All they got to do is carry the water-cooled MGs for the beach out to the trucks and throw in Leva’s old field repair kit and they ready to go.
“And,” he yelled, “they makin coffee and sandwidges in the kitchen. Everything’s all taken care of. Whynt you get a BAR and come on up?”
“There arent any left,” Lt Ross yelled up angrily.
“Then get the hell under cover,” Warden yelled down as he looked up. “Here they come.”
Lt Ross dived under the porch for the supplyroom as another single came blasting in from the southeast and the roaring umbrella of fire rose from the roofs to engulf it. It seemed impossible that he could fly right through it and come out untouched. But he did.
Right behind him, but flying due north along Waianae Avenue and the Hq Building, came another plane; and the umbrella swung that way without even letting go of its triggers.
The plane’s gastank exploded immediately into flames that engulfed the whole