Chapter Five

Kitty struggled to focus on her typing. She made another mistake and stopped to tediously erase the erroneous letter from the original and two copies. Three mistakes on one letter was unacceptable for anyone, especially a stickler like her.

She never made mistakes. But for the last two days, her mind kept wandering to the image of Lieutenant Kruger sitting in this very chair flirting with Madge.

Carefully she lined up the paper so the overstrike would hit exactly the same spot she had just erased. She resumed her typing. Slower this time, she used all her powers of concentration to finish without another error.

By afternoon she could wait no longer. She found an excuse to visit the personnel office and see if Adrianne had found anything.

The day before Kitty had hesitantly approached her fellow WAC in the mess hall. She’d forced herself to push through her discomfort at asking a stranger for help. Her bravery paid off.

Adrianne proved to be a kindred spirit of sorts. She took pride in her work and understood Kitty’s concern for her friend’s welfare. What Kitty didn’t tell Adrianne was that Kitty wanted to know about Lieutenant Kruger, not for Madge’s benefit, but for her own. She had to find out if he was the man on the beach, as her instincts screamed, or if he just looked like the person she remembered.

Adrianne looked up and nodded when Kitty entered the office. She pulled a manila folder from a drawer and led Kitty to a table in the corner so no one could overhear their conversation.

“I can assure you of one thing—he’s not married,” Adrianne said confidently.

Kitty nodded. “Good.” But the good news did not relieve her anxiety. “What else did you find?”

Adrianne opened the file and took out a single sheet of paper.

“Nothing here is confidential. I want you to know that. Just basic information, but I’d prefer you not share it with anyone. Or say where you got it. I don’t want any trouble.”

“I understand. I won’t tell anyone.” Fighting the urge to grab the page from Adrianne’s hand, Kitty forced herself to breathe normally and relax. She didn’t want Adrianne to question her motives.

Adrianne passed the handwritten page to Kitty. She quickly scanned the information.

2nd Lieutenant Theodore R. Kruger II

Enlisted 1942—Jacksonville, Florida

Initial Training—Camp Blanding Florida

Pilot Training

Pre-Flight and Primary—Santa Ana, California

Basic—Chico, California and Advanced—Kirkland Field, New Mexico

Navigator Training—Hondo Field, Texas

Assigned to 600th Squadron of the 303rd Bombardment Group

Feb. 1944 Assigned to Allford Airbase, England

Wounded; Reassigned to 2nd Wing Headquarters

“Was there anything about what he did before the war?” Kitty asked.

Adrianne reopened the folder and flipped through it.

“No.” She shook her head as she continued to turn pages. “Oh, here’s something.” She placed her finger halfway down on the page. “Under next of kin he has his mother listed in Jacksonville, Florida, and he also has his grandfather listed in Nashville, Tennessee. Is that any help?”

Kitty nodded. “Yes. Thanks.” She folded the paper and slipped it into her pocket.

Suzanne had written months after Kitty went home that the mystery man had been on a freighter that sank off the coast of Florida. If Kruger was from Florida, could he be the same man? A strange queasiness settled in her stomach. Maybe it wasn’t him, she hedged, almost hoping Lieutenant Kruger was an entirely different person.

“Is he the one you remembered?” Adrianne’s question brought her back to the present.

Kitty didn’t know how to respond. “I…I don’t know. But thanks for your help.”

She was almost out the door before she remembered the other thing she wanted to ask Adrianne. She turned and retraced her steps in time to catch Adrianne before she settled behind her desk.

“Is there any way you can find out where the First Infantry is stationed?” Kitty kept her voice low.

A little surprised at Kitty’s question, Adrianne glanced around before she responded. “That kind of info is pretty hard to come by. Why do you want to know?”

“My brother. I promised my family I’d look him up, you know, make sure he’s okay.”

“Doesn’t he write?”

“Sure. But that’s not the same as seeing him.” Another WAC opened a file cabinet nearby, and both women watched her in silence. She glanced their way as she slammed the drawer shut.

When she was out of earshot, Kitty continued, “I haven’t seen him for almost two years, since he went overseas. I’ve just got to find some way to see him.”

Adrianne looked sympathetic. “Okay. I’ll see what I can find out. Give me his name and outfit.” She slid a piece of paper in front of Kitty. “I’ve got a brother in the Pacific. Last letter I got was from Australia, I think. You know how they censor stuff. He said he was ‘down under,’ so I took that to mean Australia.”

Kitty nodded. “You’re probably right.” Kitty started to go but stopped herself. “Thanks again. And if I can ever do anything for you, just let me know. Okay?”

Adrianne smiled. “I will. Don’t worry about that.”

****

Ted looked up when the two WACs pushed through the pub’s heavy wooden door and stood for a moment surveying the dim interior.

What a dish! His luck had really turned around. After all, it wasn’t every day that a guy got close to a girl who looked like that.

He had almost reached her side when Madge flashed that brilliant smile. His pulse raced.

“Hi, handsome,” she said.

“Hello, yourself.” He grinned like a fool. No use trying to be sophisticated around this one. It would never work. “Who’s your friend?”

“Bertie DeWitt. This is Ted, Ted Kruger.”

The nervous girl managed a weak salute. “Lieutenant.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, not here.”

Someone brushed his shoulder, and Ted turned to find his friend, Marty.

“Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

Ted took Madge’s arm before Marty got any ideas. “Marty Wasserman. This is Madge and Bertie.”

Bertie started to salute then caught herself and stuck out her hand. “Bertie DeWitt.”

Marty took her hand. “Nice to meet you.”

The girl flushed and giggled while she pumped Marty’s hand up and down.

Good, Ted thought. Keep Marty occupied so he won’t make a move on Madge.

He gave “his girl” a winning smile and grasped her arm more firmly. “We’ve got a table.” He steered her toward the corner of the pub. Marty and Bertie followed.

Ted held the wooden chair for Madge. “Bertie, why don’t you sit here, beside Madge.”

Bertie smiled, and Marty shot Ted a glare before grabbing the chair for Bertie. Marty didn’t miss much. He knew Ted had intentionally put the girls together so Marty wouldn’t be tempted to flirt with Madge. But Marty’s reaction didn’t bother him. Ted had made it plain before the girls arrived that Madge was his, so hands off.

After seating the girls, Ted went over to the bar and ordered a round of drinks. Glancing back, he compared the two females. The dark-haired Bertie was tall and slender and might have held a certain attraction in the right outfit. The uniform did nothing for her looks or her figure. On the other hand, Madge’s killer shape could not be hidden. In her WAC uniform, she reminded him of Betty Grable in that war movie she made with Tyrone Power, the one he’d been racking his brain trying to remember the title of since the first time he saw her. She had the actress’s blonde hair, classic face, and blue eyes. And though he couldn’t get a good look at her legs beneath that long skirt, the rest of her could pass for the pin-up girl’s double.

The waiter appeared with a round of dark, English beer.

Ted offered a toast. “To the defeat of the Nazi’s.”

The others raised their glasses, and to his surprise, several of the pub’s patrons joined in the toast.

“Hear, hear!” a man at the neighboring table chimed in.

“Down with Hitler!” said another patron.

They all drank to their common goal.

Bertie giggled and nudged Madge in the ribs. Madge clinked her friend’s glass, and they both took another sip. Their laughter bubbled forth, and without even knowing the joke, Ted found himself laughing along.

Ted wanted to know more about the blonde beauty beside him. “You never did tell me where you have been hiding. Where’s home?”

“Minneapolis,” she replied. “And what about you?”

Evidently she didn’t want to talk about herself. “Oh, I’m from a lot of places. But I’ve never made it to Minneapolis.”

“Well, where were you when you joined up? I assumed you joined.” She’d deftly turned the subject back to him.

“Of course, I joined. I wasn’t going to wait around until they drafted me. What I wanted was to fight the Japs. But the Nazi’s will have to do.” He took another swig of beer.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

She was persistent, he’d give her that. “I was in Florida when I signed up. There was an air field near Jacksonville where I’d been working. Took some flying lessons. Figured I’d learn to fly. Might come in handy.” He took another sip, and she followed suit. From the inquisitive look, he knew she was waiting for him to continue the story. He preferred to tell the abbreviated version and avoid talking about his family. “Anyway, the Japs attacked us, so I decided to sign up for the Air Corps.”

“So you wanted to be a pilot?”

“Sure. Everybody wants to be a pilot. I got in to the cadet training, too.” She was hanging on his every word. It was heady stuff, the way she looked at him as if fascinated by anything he said.

“Then why are you a navigator instead of a pilot?”

There it was. That tricky question. But he’d perfected his answer.

“Well, I’d had some navigation training when I was in the Merchant Marines, so they thought I’d fit better as a navigator.”

Before Madge could open her mouth to ask about his time in the Merchant Marines, which is where he was steering her, Marty chimed in.

“That’s not the way I heard it.”

“What did you hear?” Bertie encouraged him.

Ted raised his hand in protest, but it was too late. Marty had that gleam in his eye and couldn’t resist telling the tale.

“Well, as I heard it,” Marty started. “Ol’ Ted here was almost through pilot training when he decided to take a little joy ride.”

“No.” Madge gasped, but her expression told him she was dying to hear more.

“Yep. He took his plane, a big B-17 bomber, and flew it down in the gorge of the Colorado River. Flew it upstream till he came to the Hoover Dam. He was flying so low he had to pull up fast and barely cleared the dam.”

“Did you get in trouble?” Bertie asked, clearly amazed at the story.

“Sure he did,” Marty answered.

Ted sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. Marty didn’t have to enjoy telling it so much.

“He got chewed out by his commanding officer, and when the brass found out, they kicked him out of pilot training.”

“Oh, Ted. How awful.” At least Madge expressed sympathy for him.

“I did it on a dare,” Ted offered his only defense. “One of the other guys was supposed to go with me. He chickened out right after we dropped into the gorge.”

“You mean he got smart.”

“What I mean is that he wasn’t good enough and he knew it.”

“But what if you had hit that dam?” Bertie asked.

Since Marty started it, Ted decided to make the most of the story. “Actually, the thing showed up sooner than I expected. I was busy watching the cliffs on either side when we rounded a bend in the river, and there it was.” He glanced at Madge. She was hanging on his every word. “This big block of concrete right in front of us.”

“What did you do?”

“I pulled back on the stick and gunned the engines.” He paused for effect. “It was close, but we cleared that dam by, oh, maybe two or three feet.”

“But you could have been killed.” He heard the concern in Madge’s voice.

“Not a chance,” he assured her.

“Problem was the whole crew could have been killed,” Marty interjected. “And the plane could have been destroyed.”

“Yeah. The brass was more concerned about me crashing the plane.” He saw Madge’s frown and knew he needed to explain further. “That was before they had the B-24. And they didn’t have the production of planes up to where it is now. So the ones we were flying were precious. But we were in no real danger.” He wasn’t about to admit how terrified he had been.

Marty laughed. “You’ve got more confidence than anyone I know.”

“I just knew what I could do, that’s all.”

“Too bad the brass didn’t know what you could do. Or maybe you’d be flying bombers now instead of drawing up flight plans for the Ops Officer.”

Ted saw red. His throat tightened, and his jaw clamped down hard trying to contain the anger his friend’s thoughtless words aroused. He knew Marty didn’t mean to provoke him. The guy was only smarting off. But the old pain still haunted him.

He should have been a pilot. It came as naturally to him as walking. But he’d taken his medicine, accepted that he wasn’t going to fly planes anymore, and made up his mind to become a damn good navigator. Rollins had understood. Had let him take the controls, several times, on the longer missions. Once fighters had come at them, and he’d struggled to control his instinct to evade. He’d held to their position in formation while Rollins manned his gun. The memory brought a stab of pain. His friends were gone. And he was grounded, which was even worse. He couldn’t even avenge their deaths.

“Waiter,” Marty called, bringing Ted back from that dark place.

Madge must have noticed his change in mood. She placed her hand on his, but he couldn’t look at her, couldn’t let her see his weakness.

When the waiter arrived Marty asked, “What’ve you got to eat around here?”

After reciting the limited menu and hearing their choices, the man disappeared.

“Don’t expect much out of the food,” Ted warned them. “I’ve eaten here before. It’s okay for English food, but you’ll find out they don’t cook like we’re used to.”

“Anything has to be better than our mess,” Bertie commented.

“Just wait.” Ted tried to laugh, tried to recapture his earlier cheerfulness. His gaze fell on the radio behind the bar. “After we eat, I’ll turn on the radio and get some music.” He turned to Madge. “Wouldn’t you like to dance?”

“I’d love to.”

Something about her sweet smile warmed him inside. He couldn’t wait to get his arms around that luscious body. Hold her close and forget everything, at least for a little while.

****

“Can I borrow some pins?” Madge sank onto the cot, her hair still wet and about half of it twisted into numerous tight pin curls.

“Sure.” Kitty stood and retrieved a small box from the shelf above her cot. She wanted to ask Madge about her “date” but wasn’t sure how to approach the subject.

Madge fiddled with a curl on the back of her head. “Can you help with this?”

Knowing the answer, Madge twisted around so Kitty could get behind her.

Kitty took the strand of hair and twisted it around her finger, then pinned it tight against Madge’s scalp with a bobby pin. She picked up a comb and parted off another strand, knowing her friend expected her to finish the back.

As her fingers worked, she racked her brain trying to come up with a subtle way to ask about…him.

Madge spoke up before Kitty had come up with something. “Ted is a fun guy. We had had a great time today.”

“That’s wonderful.” Kitty hesitated. “What did you do?”

“Oh, we talked. Drank beer. Danced a little.”

“Sounds like you had fun.”

“Oh, I did.” Madge turned her head and flashed her famous smile.

“Be still.” Kitty tugged at her friend’s hair. “Where’s he from?” she asked casually.

“I’m not sure. Florida, I think. At least that’s where he was when he joined up.”

“So that’s where his family is?”

“I don’t know. We didn’t talk about his family.”

“What did you talk about?”

“His adventures. His buddy told a story on him, about him washing out of pilot training. I don’t think Ted liked it when Marty brought it up. But since he did, Ted went on and told us all about it.”

“How did he wash out?”

“Oh, he pulled some stunt with a plane, almost hit Hoover Dam.”

“Wow.” She’d heard of guys flying under bridges but not into dams. “So how did he get to be a navigator?”

“He said something about the Merchant Marines. I meant to ask him about it, but we got off on the dam story.”

Kitty’s fingers started shaking. She fumbled with the bobby pins and dropped some on the floor. As she bent over to pick them up, her mind raced. That would confirm her theory. He must be the same man. She knew it.

She started another curl and tried to sound normal. “You’d think he would have joined the Navy if he had been in the Merchant Marines.”

“Yeah, you’d think. But he said he was working at an airfield and learning to fly when the war broke out. He wanted to be a pilot.”

“But he didn’t get his wish.” Doubt clouded her mind again. It had been after Pearl Harbor when she pulled the man from the sea.

“No, I guess not. But he is flying or at least he was, before he was wounded.”

Kitty patted Madge’s shoulder. “There. All finished.”

“Thanks.” Madge reached up and fingered the tight pin curls.

“I wish I could do that to my hair and make it look like yours.”

Madge looked at her sympathetically. “You don’t want hair like mine. Yours fits you perfectly. It’s curly on its own. You don’t have to worry with pin curls or perms.”

Kitty only nodded as if she agreed. Madge would never convince her that her naturally curly mane could ever look as good as Madge’s styled do.

“On its own is right. It’s uncontrollable. All I can do with it is twist it up and pin it tight. That hair cream you told me about helps some, but…”

“Don’t start talking about cutting it again. Remember what happened in basic.”

“Oh, I won’t. At least with it longer I can do something with it, even if it is pulled up tight and pinned.” Kitty lay back on her cot and tried to relax, but she couldn’t get Ted out of her mind. “Are you going to see him again?”

“You bet!” Madge scooted closer. “He’s the kind of guy I could really get serious about.”

“You, serious? I thought you were the one who told me to have a good time but never get too serious or risk getting hurt.”

“That’s right. But this is different. Ted’s a fun guy, but he’s got a strength about him. He’s suffered some losses, like the pilot training and his crew going down, but he still can laugh and have a good time.” Madge pulled back her blanket and slipped under it. “And he’s a gentleman. A sweet-talking gentleman.”

Kitty looked over at the woman who had been her closest friend, her only friend, for months. The girl who knew her way around, especially around men, had disregarded her own advice and had fallen for a man. Kitty squirmed under her own covers and rolled onto her side so Madge wouldn’t see the tears stealing their way down her cheeks.

Why did she have to fall for him? The man I’ve dreamed of for two years. Now he’ll never see me. Why would he? Madge is perfect, and she wants him.