Whispers of a New Dawn (41 page)

Becky took her eyes off Lockjaw and they immediately flamed again. “Hold your own horses. It’s not just about putting on a show for the boys. I love Christian. I want him in my arms tonight when it gets dark. I want him there all night, Colonel.”

“Becky, I need him in the air.”

“I’ll bet you have other pilots up. You don’t need Thunderbird and the others right away.”

“We are under attack—”

“No, you’re not—sir. There hasn’t been a Japanese plane in the sky for hours.”

“Becky, they could send in another wave at any time.”

“Which is why we’d better hurry this along. It won’t take five minutes.” She walked back into the tent. “Guys. Hey. Can you all help me out with something?”

Heads lifted.

“What’s up?” asked half a dozen men.

“Do you mind being part of a wedding ceremony in this tent? I want to tie the knot with my boyfriend the army pilot before he goes on another sortie. I need you guys as witnesses. I don’t care if you’re all witnesses but I need at least one or two.”

Billy Skipp and Jude Whetstone entered as men were falling out of their beds and shouting and raising their hands to get Becky’s attention. When the chaplain stepped inside she turned to him.

“Captain. Can we use them all?”

“I don’t need fifty names. But I’ll attach an extra sheet. Just so they can all say they were here when Becky Whetstone married a fighter pilot the day Japan bombed Pearl Harbor.”

“And do you have the book you do weddings and funerals with?”

“Yes. It’s in my bag.”

Becky called to the nurse at the far end of the tent. “Cathy. Will you be my maid of honor?”

Cathy smiled, hung her stethoscope around her neck, and wrote on her clipboard. “I thought you’d never ask.”

Becky put her hands on her hips. “Colonel, do you want to say something to the boys?”

Skipp stared at her and at the men sitting up in their beds. Many of them were covered in bandages and blood. “God bless you, boys. I’m honored to be here.”

She suddenly flashed a grin. “Why, you
are
my guest of honor, sir.”

Lockjaw, Batman, and Whistler stood with Raven by the tent flap. Jude and Nate walked Becky up the aisle between the beds right behind Cathy Brown, the nurse. The chaplain led Becky and Raven through their vows. When he told Raven he could kiss the bride the tent was in an uproar, all the men cheering and whistling and shouting.

Raven curled his finger around her gold chain and gemstone. “I never noticed. You still have this.”

“Yeah. I still have it. It’s my ring.”

“I’ll get you a proper ring, Beck.”

“I don’t care. I really don’t. This is good enough.” She kissed him again.

The chaplain made the sign of the cross over them. “Highly irregular but that’s it.” The chaplain shook Raven’s hand. “Congratulations, Lieutenant. You’ve got a real firecracker on your hands. May God be with you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Cathy got signatures from Lockjaw, Whistler, and Batman, attached a clean sheet to her clipboard, and began to move among the beds, helping the wounded scribble their names.

“Rebecca.” Skipp kissed Becky on the cheek. “You look radiant in your flight jacket and white T-shirt and grease. I just wish I could drop you into a P-40. Your husband will have to do instead.”

She kissed him back. “Thanks for putting up with me, Billy Skipp.”

“I have to get your guy…your husband in the air.”

“I know.”

Raven leaned over and kissed her quickly on the lips. “I’m the happiest man on earth. But I gotta go. Even though you’re the most beautiful thing alive.”

Becky hugged him. “Oh, sure—love me and leave me.”

“Jump in the jeep with us. Come on.”

“Is there room?”

“We’ll make room.” He turned to Batman, Lockjaw, and Whistler. “Let’s go, guys.”

The jeeps raced back to the runway, Skinny at the wheel of one and Jude steering the other. As they neared the smoke and firefighting and airplanes Skinny suddenly started leaning on the horn. Skipp looked at his driver in surprise but did nothing to stop him. Heads turned. Skinny jumped up from his seat as he jammed on the brakes.

“Married!” he shouted. “Becky and Bird got married!”

Becky reddened and put her hand to her mouth. “Becky and Bird. That sounds awful.”

Skinny continued to honk the horn. “The chaplain married them ten minutes ago! Tell that to the Japanese!”

Laughter erupted from the throats of smoke-blackened ground crew and pilots still in their pajamas and soldiers rushing past with helmets on. Hands came together and clapped as Skinny continued to press his hand against the horn. Finally Jude shrugged and did it too.

Skipp shook his head. “Holy smoke, Becky, you are something else for morale.”

“They just needed something to cheer about, sir.”

“A wedding in a war zone looks to be it.” He nodded at Raven. “Your fighter is patched up and rearmed and ready to go. Head west toward Japan. See what you can see. Maintain radio contact. Stick together.”

“Yes, sir.”

Raven kissed Becky a final time and began to run toward his P-36. His fellow pilots were already climbing into their P-40s. The honking stopped and smoke drifted over the jeeps. Becky stood up as Raven headed down the runway and lifted into the air. She waved. Then collapsed into her seat.

Her father’s arm went around her shoulders. “Hey, my little girl. Chin up. You’ll have the rest of your lives together to look forward to.”

Becky was biting her knuckle. “Sure. If he comes back. What a wild and crazy thing for me to do. Typical.”

“He’ll come back.”

“How do you know, Dad? Anything could happen up there. The Japanese could launch another bombing run.”

He hugged her and kissed the top of her head. “He’ll come back. God knows he has to come back.”

T
HIRTY
-F
OUR

W
e’re coming up on the
Arizona
now.” Gunny began to tie a water-soaked cloth over his nose and mouth. “Most of it’s underwater. But what’s on top is sure burning. And it’s spread to the
West Virginia
.” He handed Harrison a handful of cloths like the one he had put on. “Better pass these around.”

Harrison stared at the sunken ship as the launch slowed. “Where are the men?”

“Already picked up. Or still inside.”

Harrison narrowed his eyes. “God have mercy.”

Gunny nodded. “Aye. Mercy.”

Harrison began to cough as the black smoke smothered their boat. He tied the cloth over his face but still had trouble breathing. One body bobbed near the wreck, covered in oil, on fire. Glancing behind him he shook his head grimly. The last two men they had recovered lay dead in water and blood, rocking with the motion of the launch.

All the living they had plucked from the sea had been taken to the naval hospital at Hospital Point, near the beached battleship
Nevada
and the heavily bombed destroyer
USS Shaw
. They had made the trip seven times as they inched their way along Battleship Row, searching the debris for signs of life, passing the
Pennsylvania, California, Maryland
, and the other great ships. Everywhere there had been smoke and flame and drowned sailors. The
California
and
West Virginia
had sunk, the
Oklahoma
had capsized. The
Arizona
was the last in the row,
moored at the north end of Ford Island. Its oily smoke clung to them like a fog bank.

“D’you see anything?’ asked Gunny, squinting through the haze. “The navy’s been looking for hours but you never know when someone might pop up.”

“Gunny! A swimmer!”

A man was stroking furiously to get away from the
Arizona
’s wreckage and the burning oil. “Help!” he screamed. “Please help!”

“Bring the boat in!” hollered Gunny. “Bring it in!”

“We’re too close to the fire,” argued the helmsman.

“I said,
Bring it in!
Do you hear me?”

“Gunny—”

Gunny threw the man off the rudder and took the helm himself. “Harrison! You others! Haul him in! Haul him in and be quick about it!”

The launch went right up to the
Arizona
. Flames leaped up blue and white and yellow on all sides of them. Harrison reached over and grabbed one of the man’s arms. The heat cut into his face. A sailor grabbed the other arm. But they could not get him over the side. The oil made him slide right through their fingers. He began to sink, his features rigid with fear.

“Oh, no, please, God, please, Jesus, help me!” the man cried.

Harrison dove straight into the flames.

T
HIRTY
-F
IVE

B
ecky.”

She turned to peer through the smoke. Her mother was standing on the runway. Behind her was Ruth.

“Mom!” They hugged. Then Becky extended her arm to bring her aunt into the embrace. “I’m sorry. I just had this feeling come over me. That I needed to marry Christian right now, today, that there wasn’t a moment to lose. Forgive me.”

Her mother patted her back. “Shh. Shh. Billy explained all this to us. We’re not angry. From the moment we heard, we’ve been praying for you.”

“Colonel Skipp phoned you?”

“Yes, dear. He thought we should know. Then he put your father on the phone, and he gave me more details.” She smiled a full smile. “It sounded very much like a straightforward, no-nonsense thing that Becky Whetstone might do. Astonishingly, it was even done officially, with all the correct paperwork. So now you really are Mrs. Rebecca Raven.” She kissed her daughter on the cheek.

Ruth added another kiss. “The Lord be with you forever and ever, amen. How delighted Bishop Zook would be to see you married to a Christian man. Even though it took place on a day of war, it remains God’s peace in the midst of storm and conflict. How happy I am for you.”

Becky put her head on her aunt’s chest. “How can you be happy for
me when you have lost so much? How can Lockjaw stand with me and Raven when he has lost so much?”

“Lockjaw and I have lost a great deal, it’s true. But we haven’t lost our capacity to love. And we both love you and Christian.”

The three women continued to hug each other.

“Who will talk to Hani?” asked Becky.

“Your father told us who had been killed.” Lyyndaya smoothed her daughter’s unbrushed hair. “Ruth and I will go to her and tell her about Wizard. The colonel will stop by later. But he agreed it would be best if we could go first.”

“Perhaps you should leave now.”

“No, my dear. We will see your husband safely down first. Then we’ll go to Hani.”

Ruth smiled. “And there’s something we must show you.”

Becky had been standing by herself at the edge of the runway. They led her to a small Quonset hut behind one of the larger hangars. A sign posted outside informed Army Air Forces personnel that the hut was for the storage of rope and hoses. But a sheet of paper tacked to the door said in bright orange crayon,
Honeymoon hut of Mr. and Mrs. Raven, December 7, 1941
.

“What?” Becky touched the orange-crayon writing. “Who did this?”

“Billy Skipp ordered it,” her mother replied. “He asked us to help make a home out of the hut after we drove up to Wheeler. So a bunch of soldiers and airmen moved the rope and hoses and other gear and brought in what they thought would make it charming. Ruth and I did the rest.”

Becky wrapped her fingers around the door handle, looked at her mother and aunt, and bit her lip. “Should I?”

“Of course. There may be other things you wish to fix up before Christian lands.”

Becky opened the door. There was a groan of metal on metal. Sunshine tumbled through the doorway. Inside were two chairs around a small round table. On the table was a vase of roses. To Becky’s left was a
bed with two pillows, covered with the Amish quilt Ruth had stitched for Manuku. Right next to the bed was a table with a candle.

“My goodness.” Becky’s mouth was open in surprise. “The boys did this for me?”

Ruth nodded. “They were glad to do it, believe me. The one bright spot in their day. Now they’re back at their fires and trying to salvage as many planes as they can. Or on the beaches preparing for an attack.”

“They’ve been so kind.” Becky pulled back the quilt to look at the sheets. They were white and soft. She looked up. “And you, both of you, look at what you’ve done for me. Yet you didn’t even get an invitation to the wedding.”

“Well.” Her mother had her small smile. “We were hoping we would get one to the reception.”

“A reception. When will I be able to do that?”

“Not this week. But someday soon, I pray, you will remember your mother and your aunt when it comes time to open your home to visitors.”

She hugged her mother and Ruth again with a sudden burst of happiness and strength. “Of course I will. Thank you for everything.”