Of Windmills and War (21 page)

But
none of that mattered to Danny and his family as they waited for news about
Joey.

Then,
early on the morning of Christmas Eve, the McClain’s doorbell rang. Danny and
his mother and father looked at each other across the kitchen table as Sophie
barked and rushed to the door. Over the past two and a half weeks, the ringing
of the telephone, a knock on the door, or the sound of the doorbell had filled
them with a sense of dread mixed with hope. Danny bolted for the front door,
his parents close behind him.

“Telegram,”
the
Western
Union
messenger announced, handing Danny the yellow envelope.

“Thanks,”
he said without thinking as he handed it to his mother.

With trembling
hands she dropped the precious telegram. Frank bent down and picked it up then
tore it open. He quickly scanned the message. A gasp caught somewhere inside,
prompting him to raise a fist to his mouth.

Then,
with a quivering voice barely audible he said, “He’s alive.”

29

When
Pearl
Harbor
was attacked on December 7, the USS
Oklahoma
was moored in Battleship
Row next to the USS
Maryland
. The
Oklahoma
was
one of the first ships attacked, taking three torpedo hits almost as soon as
the Japanese began dropping bombs. As she began to capsize, two more torpedoes
struck her causing her to roll over until her masts touched bottom. It took
only twelve minutes before she came to rest with her starboard side above
water.

Apparently
that previous “unsubstantiated” report had been accurate after all.

Four
hundred and twenty-nine of her officers and enlisted men were killed that day.
Only thirty-two survived—including Petty Officer Joey McClain of
Chicago
,
Illinois
.

The
telegram from the Department of War informed them he was “seriously wounded”
but alive.

As his
mother wept freely, she kept saying over and over, “The best Christmas present
ever—our Joey’s alive! He’s alive!”

Dad had
quickly retreated to his downstairs refuge. Through the course of the day,
Danny and his mother had voiced all kinds of speculations concerning Joey’s
injuries and when they might hear from him. But in the end, all that mattered
was that he was alive.

The day
after Christmas, another telegram arrived. In it, a Navy doctor by the name of
Benjamin Hurley wrote them a brief message about the extent of Joey’s injuries.

petty officer Joseph Frank McClain remains sedated. Severe
burns on 50% of his body. will update recovery forthwith.

January 1942

Danny still felt numb as he returned to Northwestern after
the Christmas break. The image of his brother lying helpless in a military
hospital gnawed at him day and night, balanced only by the burning frustration of
the thousands of miles between them. He wanted nothing more than to hop on a
plane with his mother and be at Joey’s bedside to encourage him through his
recovery. But in the aftermath of the attack on
Pearl Harbor
,
civilians were not yet permitted to travel to
Hawaii
.

He hated to leave his mother, especially since his dad was
no support whatsoever, still in a shroud of silence since receiving word of
Joey’s injuries. Danny had to admire his mother’s faith. She didn’t care what
shape her oldest son was in, as long as he was alive. He wished with all his
heart he felt the same way, but he didn’t. Danny kept trying to put himself in
Joey’s place. Would he want to live with a body so severely damaged? Or worse,
could he handle the mental and emotional trauma inflicted by such injuries? He
knew Joey would be able to handle it much better than he would. Still, Danny
hated all the thoughts that buzzed incessantly in his head.

For now, at least he had school to help distract his
thoughts.

School and Beverly.

They had talked a couple of times over Christmas break. He’d
missed her terribly, and even contemplated taking the train up to see her in
Madison
. But he
knew his place was at home, helping his mother get through the long days of
waiting for more news about Joey. Once he and Beverly both returned to campus,
she’d been the perfect antidote for the darkness of the holidays. Any moment he
wasn’t in class or working, they were together.

The campus they returned to was not the Northwestern they’d
left. In fact, most of
America
had changed drastically in the
weeks since the attack on
Pearl Harbor
. As the country moved
into a lock-down mindset, students at Northwestern made adjustments to the
necessary restrictions. Normally, most of the college dances were held
off-campus—primarily because NU was an alcohol-free campus. But with the
country at war, most campus activities were confined to campus-only events. The
Wildcat Capers, the Second Semester Stomp, and the Sophomore Cotillion
relocated to Scott Hall or the new Patten Gym.

Perhaps the most noticeable change on campus was the large
presence of Navy personnel. Northwestern administrators welcomed the servicemen
who resided on campus while completing their military training. At first Danny
warmed to the idea of sharing a campus with the cadets, admiring them for their
service. The familiar uniforms always reminded him of Joey and his sacrifice.

But a strange thing began to happen. With the pervasive
sense of patriotism sweeping across
America
, these
cadets didn’t hesitate to taunt the other males on campus who’d received
deferments simply because they were enrolled in college. Harassing their male
counterparts became a favorite pastime for the sailors.

“Think you’re too good to fight for your country, boy?”

“Scared you might break a nail, freshman?”

“Not my fault your girl prefers a man in uniform!”

Danny made a conscious decision not to engage the sailors
and their verbal abuse when they crossed paths. They had no way of knowing his
brother had paid dearly at
Pearl Harbor
, but it didn’t mean he
liked it.

By the end of January, Danny’s parents had finally received
the long-awaited phone call from Joey.

“He sounded good, Danny, all things considered,” Mom said. “You
know your brother—he cracked a few jokes, insisting he’d faked his burns just
so the pretty nurses would fuss over him. But when he tried to tell us about
the attack, he broke down. I’m ashamed to say, while I was so worried about
Joey and his injuries, I’d never once thought about all the friends he’d lost.
He was more concerned about the families of his buddies and their loss than
about his own situation.”

She’d paused, and Danny had wondered if he’d lost their
phone connection. “Mom? Are you there?”

She sniffed then answered, “Yes, honey, I’m here. I’m just
so proud of Joey and how he’s handling all this. He’s grown up so much since he
left home. But I guess war does that.”

“It’s made us all grow up in one way or another.”

“I suppose it has. Anyway, the good news is that Joey will
be moved stateside in the next few weeks. They’re sending him to
Bethesda
Naval
Hospital
near
Washington
,
D.C.
”

“We’ll go see him as soon as he gets there, okay?”

“Yes, dear. As soon as we can.”

When their call ended, Danny stood still, his forehead pressed
against the wall above the telephone on his dorm floor.
I can’t believe I
ever wallowed in pity for Joey, wondering how I would handle getting burned and
maimed if it had been me. Joey’s twice the man I’ll ever be.
Then he
chuckled, imagining his brother carrying on with all those pretty nurses and
realized he couldn’t wait to see him again.

On a surprisingly warm Thursday in March, Danny and his
parents made the long drive to
Washington
after learning Joey had
finally arrived stateside. Even his father’s ever-grumpy demeanor couldn’t
deter Danny and his mother’s anticipation of finally getting to see Joey face
to face. As they arrived at
Bethesda
Naval
Hospital
,
they were escorted up to the burn unit. After a quick
meeting with Joey’s doctor, briefing them about his prognosis and anticipated
recovery, they were finally led down the hall to Joey’s room.

“Petty Officer
McClain, you
have some special visitors who are quite anxious to see you,” Dr. Shepherd
announced, leading them into the six-bed room.

There, third bed on the right, Danny spotted the lazy smile
of his only brother. His eyes filled as a lump lodged in his throat. An unexpected
rush of relief washed over him. As Mom rushed to Joey’s side, Danny tried to
compose himself.

“Mom . . . Dad,” Joey started, coughing over
his emotion. “It’s about time you got here.”

Dr. Shepherd pulled the white curtain around Joey’s bed. “I
wish we could offer you more privacy, but please—have a seat and take your
time. I’ll check back with you later.” He shook Dad’s hand and disappeared
behind the curtain.

“Joey . . . oh, son,” Mom cried, leaning over
to kiss his forehead. “I want so much to hug you, but—”

Danny hadn’t known what to expect. None of the reports had
ever specified where Joey’s burns were. Now, seeing his gauze-wrapped arms,
torso, and neck, he silently thanked God that his brother’s face had been
spared.

“I know, Mom, but we’ll have time for that later after all
this heals up. I promise.” Joey gave her his signature wink.

Dad had made his way to the other side of Joey’s bed,
removing his hat. “Joey . . . I, uh . . .” His
face crumbled as he too was overcome by emotion.

Joey slowly raised his arm toward his father, extending the
only two fingers not bandaged. As his fingers reached his dad’s hand, Frank
looked up with tears streaming down his face. He gently grasped those two
fingers then leaned over to bring them to his lips.

“Now, Dad, don’t go all mushy on me.”

For the first time in more than three months, Danny heard
the sound of his father’s laughter. “I’m afraid it’s a little late for that,
son.”

“Danny! Come here and let me take a look at you.”

As Dad stepped aside, Danny slid in closer to his brother’s
bedside. “Hey, Joey. It’s good to see you.”

“I’d muss up that hair of yours, but I’m a little indisposed
at the moment.” He shrugged, reaching out his fingers.

Danny reached out for them, tweaking them gently. “It’s a
good thing you look good in white.”

“No kidding. So what’s it like being at college? I was
hoping you’d show up in purple, Mr. Wildcat.”

“Not gonna happen, sailor.”

“That’s
Petty Officer McClain
to you, boy.”

The banter continued, bridging the emotion swirling around
them. They avoided any mention of the war or
Pearl Harbor
,
finding refuge in the mere joy of being together again. Over the next two days,
they spent as much time with Joey as visiting hours allowed.

On Sunday morning, they stopped by for one last visit before
heading back home. None of them wanted to say goodbye, stalling until the last
possible moment.

“Dad, before you go there’s something I want to ask,” Joey
said after taking a sip of water through a straw.

“What’s that?”

“I know it’s gonna be a while before I get out of here, and
I know I’ve got a lot of physical therapy before I get to come home. But I was
wondering . . .” He scratched his left eyebrow. “I was kind of
hoping you’d consider letting me come to work for you at the theater. Maybe
teach me about the movie business.”

Frank blinked, then blinked again. “Well, now.” He looked
across at his wife whose smile brightened her whole face. He coughed a couple
of times, then looked back at Joey. “I think we might be able to work that out.
If that’s what you’d really like?”

Joey nodded. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. I
think it’s exactly what I’d like.”