The Eleventh Man - Ivan Doig [26]
Good evening, America, and our fighting men and women everywhere. This is Ted Loudon with the latest Sports Lowdown. And have I got a super-size scoop for you tonight." (Ben could just hear that rat-a-tat-tat radio patter. Not for the first time, however, Loudon's brand of spiel went beyond anything that could be expected.) "On the gridiron of life, champions now are taking the field in a game for all the world to see. Every true follower of football will remember the war cry of the Golden Eagles of 1941. That Treasure State University team gallantly rallied to the memory of its 'twelfth man,' the teammate whose heart tragically gave out on the practice field, and went on to an undefeated season. Now those Golden Eagle players have heroically committed themselves to victory on a field as large as the world. Every starting player of that unforgettable Treasure State team—now get this, fans—those eleven players all are now in the service of their country.
"I have searched the records high and low, folks" (—Ben would have bet most of it was low, wherever Loudon was involved—) "and with the natural exception of the military academies of West Point and Annapolis, no college football team has ever before offered up every member in simultaneous service to our country. Count on it, friends, Hitler and Tojo are in for some rough tackling from these fellows. The roster of this Supreme Team is quite amazing:
Moxie Stamper, the slinging quarterback.
Jake Eisman, the Iceman, cool head at fullback who always delivered in All-American fashion when vital short yardage was needed.
Quick Vic Rennie, as fast as a halfback gets.
Dexter Cariston, deceptive as a ghost at the other halfback spot.
Then the outstanding line, beginning with ends Nick Danzer and Ben Reinking, two of the catchingest receivers this side of Don Hutson."
On down the list. The one surprise to Ben was Dexter Cariston, who always claimed the only blood he intended to be around any time soon was in med school. Dex must have decided not to wait for the draft.
Ben passed the transcription back to the colonel, wishing he could wash Ted Loudon off his hand. "All due respect, sir, I already knew most of that." Swallowing hard against the possibility that he was going to throw up, he managed to croak out: "Could you possibly tell me why was I yanked out of pilot training to read a wire story?"
"For one thing," the colonel said mildly, "because you know what a wire story is. Two summers with the United Press bureau in Helena ripping and reading the teletype, am I right? And you know how to meet a deadline, as well. 'Letter from the Hill' every week for, what, three seasons?"
Staring at the man, Ben felt a rush of blood through his head, although he couldn't have told whether it was draining from his face or coloring it up. His football diary had run in only the college newspaper; what was the Pentagon doing reading the Treasure State Nugget?
"An upbringing in your father's newspaper office on top of that," the colonel was going on, as if he was ordering parts for something he wanted built, "and you were sharp in class, your grades always up there on the dean's list. Plus that famous football season. Quite the pedigree." Abruptly he shifted ground. "Was it a pact? The eleven of you talking it over and deciding to go into the war sooner than later, one for all and all for one, that sort of thing?"
"No, sir." All for one, one for all? However much else this Pentagon whiz knew, he didn't know Stamper and Danzer. Nor, for that matter, Dex. "Sure, a few of us went to the enlistment office together right after Pearl Harbor. But other than that it was strictly one by one, guys trickling in as they felt they had to, from what I hear."
"Pity. But that doesn't change the essential story, fortunately."
The colonel sprang it then, the Supreme Team coverage for the duration of the war, that Ben's background singled him out for. He listened in a daze as the colonel brought