To the Last Man - Jeff Shaara [92]
The laughter was contagious, and Lufbery responded, the memory of the strange afternoon clouded by a heavy dose of Lafayette Cocktails. Thaw was close beside him, said, “An empty Lewis gun? For Chrissakes, Luf, what would you have done if they’d starting shooting?”
Lufbery shrugged, said, “Hell if I know. Thought never crossed my mind.” He paused, pondered the question. “At least LeBlanc had the pistol.”
There was a roar of laughter, and he saw LeBlanc now, the man sitting quietly in the corner, surrounded by a flock of his mechanics. LeBlanc held up a glass of champagne, toasted him silently, and one of the men said, “Sorry to tell you this, but Corporal LeBlanc doesn’t even know how to load a pistol.”
Lufbery realized he had no idea if the pistol was loaded or not. He laughed with the rest of the room, felt Thaw’s heavy hand on his shoulder.
“Hell of a thing, Luf. What do we call that bastard? A Boche American? Or an American Boche?”
“Bastard’s good enough.”
“Hell, for all we know, he’s been shooting at us for months. One of those tough sons of bitches who won’t go down. One of Parsons’ duels.”
Thaw laughed now, and Lufbery looked at Parsons, who nodded with a pained twist on his face. Parsons said, “To hell with you, Thaw.”
The laughter came again, and Lufbery could see that Parsons was not sharing the joke.
Ted Parsons had come to the squadron in January, a blue-blooded New Englander who had immediately established himself as the most successful man in the escadrille when it came to attracting the women of Paris. But Parsons’ enviable conquests of the French female were the only victories he could claim. Lufbery had made several flights with Parsons, had seen Parsons engaged in combat more times than Lufbery could remember. But despite all variety of point-blank encounters, Parsons had not yet downed a single enemy plane. Unlike some, who seemed to suffer the misfortunes of jammed machine guns, or misfiring motors, Parsons had suffered a new kind of misfortune. More than once, his bullets had shredded enemy planes, broken struts, and even wounded the pilots. But every time, the enemy had made his escape. Parsons was convinced that the Germans were using armor on their planes, that his bullets were bouncing off. Anyone else who had witnessed his misadventures knew that Ed Parsons was simply unlucky.
There was commotion outside the room, and Thaw stood, said, “Our guests have arrived!”
The room grew quiet, Lufbery sharing the anticipation, and Thaw moved to the doorway, made a bow, said, “Welcome!”
He backed into the room, and Lufbery saw a line of khaki uniforms, wide brown belts, and stiff round hats, most of them young lieutenants. The men scanned the room, examined the Americans as the Americans examined them.
While the escadrille had been based at Luxeuil, the British pilots had been regular visitors, had been welcomed for their particular talent for energizing the drunken rowdiness. But this group was unfamiliar, had just arrived at a field a few miles away. It was natural that the Americans would extend an invitation to their new neighbors. Thaw broke the awkward moment, said, “I hear one of you is called Tommy. Damned common name for you chaps, eh?”
The men seemed to appraise Thaw’s observation, and one man said, “Until we are certain of your respectability, you may refer to us all as . . . Thomas.”
The man broke into a wide grin now, extended his hand to Thaw. The Americans came forward, hands out, Lufbery joining in the greeting. The wine bottles began to move forward as well and Thaw said, “I assure you, Thomas, we are a respectable lot. How, exactly, do we prove that to your satisfaction?”
Lufbery saw the Brit take a bottle of wine, examine it for a brief moment, then put it to his lips. The bottle was raised, a sloppy chugging sound, and Lufbery was amazed to see the contents disappear. The man held the empty bottle out, and Thaw said, “Now . . . that’s respectable!”
Another man stepped farther into the room, a captain, and the man said, “Might I meet the man who scored that victory today?