Winter of the World

Since the death of Joanne, Chuck felt he loved Eddie even more. Of course he had always known that Eddie could be killed, in theory; but the danger had never seemed real. Now, after the attack on Pearl Harbor, Chuck never passed a day without visualizing that beautiful girl lying on the ground covered in blood, and his brother sobbing his heart out beside her. It could so easily have been Chuck kneeling next to Eddie, and feeling the same unbearable grief. Chuck and Eddie had cheated death on 7 December, but they were at war now, and life was cheap. Every day together was precious because it might be the last.

Chuck was leaning on the bar with a beer in his hand, and Eddie was sitting on a high stool. They were laughing at a navy pilot called Trevor Paxman – known as Trixie – who was talking about the time he tried to have sex with a girl. ‘I was horrified!’ Trixie said. ‘I thought it would be all tidy down there, and kind of sweet, like girls in paintings, but she had more hair than me!’ They roared with laughter. ‘She was like a gorilla!’ At that point Chuck saw, out of the corner of his eye, the stocky figure of Captain Vandermeier entering the bar.

Few officers went into enlisted men’s bars. It was not forbidden, merely thoughtless and inconsiderate, like wearing muddy boots in the restaurant of the Ritz-Carlton. Eddie turned his back, hoping Vandermeier would not see him.

No such luck. Vandermeier came right up to them and said: ‘Well, well, all girls together, are we?’

Trixie turned away and melted into the crowd. Vandermeier said: ‘Where did he go?’ He was already drunk enough to slur his words.

Chuck saw Eddie’s face darken. Chuck said stiffly: ‘Good evening, Captain, may I buy you a beer?’

‘Scotch onna rocks.’

Chuck got him a drink. Vandermeier took a swallow and said: ‘So, I hear the action in this place is out the back – is that right?’ He looked at Eddie.

‘No idea,’ Eddie said coldly.

‘Aw, come on,’ said Vandermeier. ‘Off the record.’ He patted Eddie’s knee.

Eddie stood up abruptly and pushed his stool back. ‘Don’t you touch me,’ he said.

Chuck said: ‘Take it easy, Eddie.’

‘There’s no rule in the navy says I have to be pawed by this old queen!’

Vandermeier said drunkenly: ‘What did you call me?’

Eddie said: ‘If he touches me again, I swear I’ll knock his ugly head off.’

Chuck said: ‘Captain Vandermeier, sir, I know a much better place than this. Would you like to go there?’

Vandermeier looked confused. ‘What?’

Chuck improvised: ‘A smaller, quieter place – like this, but more intimate. Do you know what I mean?’

‘Sounds good!’ The captain drained his glass.

Chuck took Vandermeier’s right arm and gestured to Eddie to take the left. They led the drunk captain outside.

Luckily, a taxi was waiting in the gloom of the alley. Chuck opened the car door.

At that point, Vandermeier kissed Eddie.

The captain threw his arms around him, pressed his lips to Eddie’s, then said: ‘I love you.’

Chuck’s heart filled with fear. There was no good ending to this now.

Eddie punched Vandermeier in the stomach, hard. The captain grunted and gasped. Eddie hit him again, in the face this time. Chuck stepped between them. Before Vandermeier could fall down, Chuck bundled him into the back seat of the taxi.

He leaned through the window and gave the driver a ten-dollar bill. ‘Take him home, and keep the change,’ he said.

The taxi pulled away.

Chuck looked at Eddie. ‘Oh, boy,’ he said. ‘Now we’re in trouble.’

(iv)

But Eddie Parry was never charged with the crime of assaulting an officer.

Captain Vandermeier showed up at the Old Administration Building next morning with a black eye, but he made no accusation. Chuck figured it would ruin the man’s career if he admitted he had got into a fight at The Band Round The Hat. All the same everyone was talking about his bruise. Bob Strong said: ‘Vandermeier claims he slipped on a patch of oil in his garage, and hit his face on the lawn mower, but I think his wife socked him. Have you seen her? She looks like Jack Dempsey.’

That day, the cryptanalysts in the basement told Admiral Nimitz that the Japanese would attack Midway on 4 June. More specifically, the Japanese force would be 175 miles north of the atoll at 7 a.m.

They were almost as confident as they sounded.

Eddie was gloomy. ‘What can we do?’ he said when he and Chuck met for lunch. He worked in naval intelligence too, and he knew the Japanese strength as revealed by the codebreakers. ‘The Japs have two hundred ships at sea – practically their entire navy – and how many do we have? Thirty-five!’

Chuck was not so glum. ‘But their strike force is only a quarter of their strength. The rest are the occupation force, the diversion force and the reserves.’

‘So? A quarter of their strength is still more than our entire Pacific Fleet!’

‘The actual Japanese strike force has only four aircraft carriers.’