1945

Why lie? Paul thought. "Yes, Captain, I did. I was off course for about seven hours."

Ruger shook his head in disbelief. "That all? Jesus Christ, Lieutenant, I would have spent a lot more than that with them. After all, you're not likely to see them for a helluva long time."

Paul blinked and Ruger started laughing. "Like I said, Lieutenant Morrell, how can I punish you? Can't fire you, now can I?"

Paul worked up a reciprocal smile. "It wouldn't hurt my feelings if you did."

"Morrell, I'm a reservist myself, so I can't wait for this pile of shit war to end so I can get home to my loving wife and two kids and start working on kids three and four. In the meantime, I've got an infantry company to staff, along with filling a couple of other openings in the battalion for Major Redwald and General Monck. The enlisted men and the rest of the officers left via troopship shortly after the riots, and we are trying to fill the last officer vacancies. It's an unusual procedure, but this whole damned war is highly unusual. You, Mr. Morrell, look like you can do the job. Let's see, you're twenty-three. How the hell did you stay out of the draft for so long?"

"Captain, I was in ROTC in college, had a mild knee injury from high school football, and my dad knew someone on the draft board. Of the three, I think the last was the most significant."

"Not exactly dying to get in, were you?"

"I don't think anybody is. I guess that's why we have the draft in the first place since any rush to enlist ended shortly after Pearl Harbor. But now that I'm here, I'll serve and do my best."

Ruger grunted acknowledgment. "I see you've been in combat."

"Very little. Twice my unit in Germany was under indirect artillery fire, and once we might have been shot at by a sniper. In all cases, I just kept my head down and tried to keep my people from being killed."

"But you actually did something. You didn't lie there frozen in your own crap, now did you?"

"I guess I did manage to move about and function usefully."

"So why'd they get rid of you in Germany? How badly did you flick up?"

Paul explained the situation with the grenades and the discipline. "Funny," Paul concluded, "but all I was trying to do was the right thing."

Ruger nodded. "The road to hell is paved with people trying to do the right thing or something like that. I presume you've learned a little discretion."

Paul grinned. "A lot."

"Fine. Let's get back to you in those combat situations. Were you scared?"

"Shitless."

Captain Ruger nodded. "My first time was in the Philippines last year. I was so scared I maybe did shit, although the place already stank so bad I don't think anybody could tell, and I suppose I'll be scared again when we invade Japan."

Paul's heart sank. "Then it's official?"

"Yep, and you're gonna be part of it. Since you look reasonably human and have almost satisfactorily explained yourself, I'm taking you for my company. We are part of a now-forming infantry regiment, the 528th, Brigadier General John Monck commanding. We are going to be assigned as a reserve force for one of the divisions that's going to invade. We'll be shipping out from here faster than you can say jack shit, so don't even think about unpacking or even leaving this tent without me as a chaperone."

Paul sagged. That soon? Not even a few days' respite? "Do I have time for a phone call? How 'bout a shave and a shower?"

Ruger looked at his watch. "If we move fast, we can both make a phone call. Unless somebody changes their minds, we'll be on a C-54 in about two and a half hours. You can forget the shower. The plumbing around here is terrible at best."

Ruger stood up and Paul realized the captain was not as tall as he'd first thought, only an inch or so taller than he was. Ruger held out his hand and Paul took it. Ruger's grip was firm. "Morrell, welcome to whatever the hell we're getting into. Now, let's go find us some phones, some food, and maybe even something to drink. You mind eating and drinking in an ugly old tent?"

Despite his apprehensions, Paul smiled. "Not in the slightest, Captain. Uh, do you have any idea where we're going from here?"

"Paul, after a few stops for food and fuel, we will be catching up with our enlisted personnel on that resort spot of the Pacific, Okinawa, and God help us."

Paul's first steps in the Pacific theater would come soon.

CHAPTER 7

The third atomic bomb followed its precursors at Hiroshima and Nagasaki and fell on Kokura, with the same devastation. Gen. Korechika Anami, minister of war, stared at the small group of grim-faced men who sat with him in that same bunker where Emperor Hirohito had been taken prisoner. The austere walls were now covered with maps and reports that charted the flow of the war that was raging over their heads as American bombers pounded targets in Tokyo and its suburbs. The new leader of Japan wondered what was left for them to destroy in Tokyo.