From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [501]
The girl smiled at her gratefully and looked back at the shore. They had passed Diamond Head now, and the bluntness of Koko Head was looming up in the distance.
“He was a bomber pilot,” the girl said out across the water, “stationed at Hickam Field. He tried to taxi his plane off the apron and down to the revetments. They made a direct hit on it. Maybe you read about it in the papers.”
“No,” Karen said, impotently. “I didnt.”
“They awarded him a Silver Star,” the girl said out across the water. “They sent it to his mother. She wrote me she wanted me to have it.”
“I think thats very fine of her,” Karen said.
“They’re very fine people,” the girl smiled tremulously. “He comes from an old Virginia family, The Prewitts. They’ve lived there since before the Revolution. His great-grandfather was a General under Lee in the Civil War. Thats who he was named after: Robert E Lee Prewitt.”
“Who?” Karen said numbly.
“Robert E Lee Prewitt,” the girl said tremulously on the verge of tears. “Isnt that a silly old name?”
“No,” Karen said. “I think its a fine name.”
“Oh, Bob,” the girl said quiveringly out across the water. “Bob, Bob, Bob.”
“Now: now,” Karen said, feeling all the grief that had been in her boiling over into a wild desire to laugh out loud. She put her arm around the girl. “Try to get hold of yourself.”
“I’m all right,” the girl said, drawing a quivering breath. “Truly I am.” She touched her handkerchief to her eyes.
“I’ll walk down with you to your stateroom,” Karen offered.
“No,” the girl said. “Thank you. I’m perfectly all right now. I owe you a tremendous apology. And I do thank you. Excuse me, please.”
She walked away, the poise and the carriage both exquisitely perfect, in the exquisitely simple expensive black outfit, with the real-looking pearl ring and necklace, all looking as if she had walked right out of a page in Vogue.
Karen watched her go, thinking so this was Lorene of the New Congress, and that this was the first time she had ever really met a professional whore, at least to know who she was.
“Who’s your friend?” the young Air Corps Lt/Col said from the other side of her. He had just come up. “She certainly is a beauty.”
“Isnt she lovely?” Karen said, still wanting to laugh wildly. “I dont know her name, but perhaps I can arrange an introduction for you.”
“No; thanks,” the young Lt/Col said, looking after her. “She’s so beautiful she makes me feel uncomfortable. What is she, a movie star?”
“No, but I think she’s connected with show business. I dont honestly think an introduction would do you much good anyway. Her fiancé was killed December 7th. He was a bomber pilot at Hickam.”
“Oh,” the young Lt/Col said subduedly. “Thats rough.”
“She’s taking it pretty hard,” Karen said.
“I was at Hickam on The Seventh,” the young Lt/Col said in the same funereal voice. “What was his name. Maybe I knew him.”
“Prewitt,” Karen said. “Robert E Lee Prewitt. She said he came from an old Virginia family.”
“No,” the young Lt/Col said thoughtfully funereally. “I dont guess I knew him. There were an awful lot of bomber pilots at Hickam,” he apologized. “And an awful lot of them got it.”
“He was awarded a Silver Star,” Karen said, some bitterness in her making her unable to resist saying it.
“Then I ought to know him,” the young Lt/Col said funereally. “But, truthfully, just between you and me, they handed out such a lot of Silver Stars, both posthumously and otherwise, at Hickam, that it alone isnt much to go on,” he apologized.
“I suppose thats true,” Karen said.
“I got one myself,” he said.
Karen looked at his shirt then and saw it there right next to the Purple Heart ribbon.
“Oh, I didnt do anything,” he said hastily, “except get blown up by a bomb concussion that I couldnt have avoided anyway. But I took it anyway,” he added. “I suppose I shouldnt have.” He looked at her boyishly searchingly.
“I dont see why not,” Karen said.
“Well, there were so many guys who should have