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Show PRATT " W.N. U. RELEASE THE STORY THUS FAR: Forty-four-rear-old Wilbert Winkle, who operates a repair shop In the alley back of his some, Is notified by hs draft board that ie 1 In 1A. He breaks the bad news to Us domineering wife, Amy, who now sates to part with him. Mr. Winkle Is lent to Camp Squibb, a thousand miles Irom home, where he meets Mr. Tinker, I man of his own age who wants to ivenge a nephew killed at Pearl Harbor, after graduating from Motor Mechanicr ichool, Mr. Winkle goes home on a furlough. fur-lough. Amy hardly knows him, and his log, Penelope, barks at him furiously, a short time after returning to camp koth Mr. Winkle and Mr. Tinker are en route for a point of embarkation. CHAPTER X Between Mr. Tinker and the irreducible ir-reducible fact that they were actu-llly actu-llly off to one of the various wars joing on, Mr. Winkle didn't sleep much that first night. He lay there precariously on the edge of the berth trying to adjust himself to the situation situa-tion and regretting a little that he bad not taken the chance of getting sut of the Army when he had the spportunity. This was, as the saying went, it. This was what he had trained for. Be was going to where battles were being fought. He was going to help Sght them. The realization struck aim so forcibly .that he nearly fell tut of the berth, especially when Mr. Tinker gave him an extra hard push. Then, again, he endeavored to look tn the bright side of it. He was a hardened soldier, wasn't ie? Well, maybe not hard, but with plenty of preparation. The additional months as a member mem-ber of a service company had (rought the confidence of experience. They had brought a Corporal's rtripes, and finally those of a full-ledged full-ledged Sergeant. He and Mr. Tink- The day they didn't stop, but kept right on marching up the gangplank gang-plank and on to the ship, he felt betrayed, be-trayed, cheated and fooled. er were a team, it having been found that Mr. Tinker was good at the aeavier work, while he supplied a little lit-tle more skill at figuring it out. He couldn't overlook the drama of It, either. Here they were, several hundred men in a special train, rushing to an unknown destination to save the nation. He knew that track streamliners were sidetracked tor them. Everything made way for them. Even if you were hurrying to risk your life, that gave you a lense of Importance. He fell asleep on this thought, reaming that he was sinking in fcide waters and that he grasped at tiny straw to save himself. Mr. Winkle expected to be marched right on a ship as soon as Ihey reached their embarkation port two days later. But there seemed to be no such hurry as that which bad brought them here. They were given physical examinations, exami-nations, their equipment was injected, in-jected, and orders were issued to keep their canteens filled to the houth. . Thus readied, they were assembled assem-bled one morning and marched out through an entrance in the brick fcall. They made their way along a toad at the side of the harbor, in fchich many ships, all painted an inherent in-herent gray, were moored. Mr. Winkle had never seen a real ship before, and was impressed with their ,12e. He wondered which would be theirs. They were called to a halt beside fee high wall of one of the larger Vessels. Orders were shouted. To his mazement and relief, they started torching back again to the staging 're. This had been merely practice, prac-tice, Tht man next to him said, "That close one." ch day after that they went "rough the same process. The third Bm it was repeated there were 'Wiplaints. Even Mr. Winkle asked these Questions and came not to believe in of the marches to the ship. He It for granted that each time rrayd himself in his full equip ment and sweated to the pier that he would turn right around again and come back. The day they didn't stop, but kept right on marching, up the gangplank gang-plank and on to the ship, he felt betrayed, cheated and fooled. To Mr. Tinker at his side he observed, ob-served, "Well, I guess we've burned our gangplanks behind us." Mr. Tinker stared at him, scowling scowl-ing to get his meaning. Though he didn't know the true quotation, he appeared to find something wrong with Mr. Winkle's version, or at least with the way he spoke. "What's the matter, Pop?" he asked. "You seasick already?" More men poured on to the ship, and still more marched along the pier toward her. Mr. Winkle, Mr. Tinker and ten others were shown below to their private stateroom. Instead In-stead of bunks, a large cabin had been stripped of its beds and other luxurious furnishings and canvas hammocks slung in tiers of three from a wooden framework. Mr. Winkle drew one of the top hammocks, so close to the ceiling that it made him feel like a fly sticking there. They stowed their gear and investigated the quarters. One of the men opened a door and stood, frozen in his tracks. "Come here," he said in an awed voice, "and see if you see what I'm looking at." They crowded around him, peering peer-ing over his shoulders, and saw a gleaming bathroom. "Holy cow!" another man cried. "Ain't our suite sweet?" The ship would be totally blacked out at night, which meant no smoking smok-ing on deck. No cigarette butt or scrap of paper pa-per was to be thrown" overboard lest it leave a trail which could be followed. fol-lowed. In case the ship was hit and had to be abandoned, they were to slide down landing nets which would be lowered, and not jump overboard. If a man fell overboard, the ship could not risk stopping to pick him up. These instructions caused no evident evi-dent alarm. Normally, Mr. Winkle should have had an acute attack of imagination right then and there. But it didn't come, as it hadn't lately late-ly in the learning that a great and solicitous mother, the Army, looked after his every interest. All he had to do was to trust it, obey orders, and, most important of all, keep his mouth shut. The ship sailed that night while some of them were asleep and some of them were still adjusting their bodies to the hammocks. Mr. Winkle, Win-kle, listening, heard the deep throb of the engines. He put his hand against the ceiling and felt a thrumming thrum-ming there. The smell of oil became stronger. A low, sleepy murmuring came from other men. A forward movement became perceptible. That was all. No one spoke. In the morning they were at sea. Their own and dozens of other ships scratched a glassy mirror with continual, con-tinual, untired zigzags. The convoy stretched into the distance as far as the eye could see. At its outer edges they could make out destroyers and other warcraft, which kept up a worried wor-ried pacing back and forth, in and out, and sometimes around in wide sweeps and circles. It was heartening to see them and their fellow troopships. Though they knew that death was possible any instant from the sky or from beneath be-neath the water, it seemed just as impossible that anything could touch them. Soldiers were everywhere on the ship, the last inch of space being crowded with them. If they had little lit-tle privacy before, they had none now. It was barely possible to step anywhere without walking on somebody, some-body, or putting your foot into the middle of a crap game. Somehow they managed to move around, for the most part good-naturedly. Mr. Winkle marveled at what he and other men had been conditioned to stand. He began to have a respect .for the extent that man would let himself be abused for the opportunity of traveling a long way to get killed. Despite its inconvenience in-convenience and tragedy, there was a decided element of joy in war, of virile men becoming braves and setting set-ting out on the exciting adventures of the warpath. The favorite pastime, while standing stand-ing or sitting on deck, or leaning against the rail, was speculating on where they were going. "Australia," was proposed, "and I aim to see one of them kangaroos jumping around with her kid in her pocket" "No, sir," another differed. "If it was Australia, they'd told us. My cousin went out there last year and he knew from the time he left He ain't seen any kangaroos yet, but he says the people there are hep-cats who cook with gas." "The Solomons," a third man said. "We took them over, didn't we? We're being sent out to hold them. I had it straight from the top kick" "Something tells me," another man interrupted, "we're going to be dropped off in Hawaii. I always wanted to go there, and now is it." He was hooted down on the basis that no such luck could be theirs. It was Sergeant Winkle's considered consid-ered opinion that they were going to New Guinea. "What they got there. Pop?" he was asked. "What's your book say?" "Cannibals," he told them. He thought his guidebook had said that. "Me," said Mr. Tinker, "I don't care where it is just so there's J aps." On the fourth day, while sitting on the deck with his back against the rail, Mr. Winkle nearly jumped out of his life belt when there was a loud explosion forward. He was lurching to his feet and had reached a crouching position before be-fore he realized that the gun crews were holding firing practice. He sank back down again, seeing other men following suit. The guns kept on chattering, sending send-ing up shells to burst high in the air at different levels. From the other ships they could see the same practice going on. It was fascinating to watch, and the noise and smell of burning gunpowder added to their sense of security. In the midst of 'the racket Mr. Winkle was startled to hear his name being called. "Hi, Pop!" Looking up, he saw Freddie Tin-dall. Tin-dall. In back of him were Jack and several more of the original Spring-ville Spring-ville contingent. "Hello, Mr. Winkle," Jack greeted him. The boy's eyes twinkled, and he spoke as if they were meeting casually on Maple Avenue. "This," said ,Mr. Winkle, struggling strug-gling to his feet, "is quite a place to have a reunion." They held it, nevertheless, in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, pumping pump-ing one another's hands and yelling above the noise of the guns. Freddie Fred-die cried, "We've got more than this! Hey, Alphabet! Alphabet!" In a moment the wizened little Sergeant pushed his way down the deck. The first thing he saw was Mr. Winkle's stripes with the "T" below them. Without raising his voice, but still making himself heard he lectured: "I been in the Army eighteen ; years. You been in eight months, and you rate with me. We ain't going go-ing to win no war that way. And look what I got in my machine-gun crew. Him," he pointed at Jack, "and him," he indicated Freddie. "All they can do is outshoot any ol them guys working them pump-guns The convoy stretched into the distance dis-tance far as you could see. up there. Where do you think we're headed for, Pop?" Mr. Winkle's reply was lost ir the blast of the antiaircraft guns. "Australia!" Jack yelled. "New Zealand!" Freddie shouted. "I told you it was India," the Alphabet Al-phabet said. "I had it straight frorr an officer as the One-A lowdown . . ." Mr. Winkle saw that Sergean' Czeideskrowski had become one o: them and, what was more, they had become one with him. He was warmed by this, and, thai the others were on the ship with him. It seemed to make it still safer, ane the sea smoother and' even mori peaceful. Yet still it wasn't quite the thinj about war he sensed and for whicl he continued to search. There was a stir among the ship; of the convoy. Messages were exchanged bj blinker and flags. Mr. Winkle's ship and five supplj vessels began to take erratic courses. It seemed as if something was go. ing to happen after all, that a sub marine had been detected. The men lining the rails, watched and hel( their breaths. Maneuvering smoothly, the su ships detached themselves from tht main body of the convoy, setting of at an angle to it. At the same timt thret destroyers rode in the samt direction, herding them. Deep throated whistles said goodby. It was clear now that they wen going on a mission of their own. Ru mor ran like fire through the ship. They were a special task force. An urgent call had come for then from some harassed point Plans had been changed. Land was soon to be sighted. They would see action at any moment. mo-ment. I 'TO RR CONTTNUF.Dl |
