"I understand, sir. But my people, along with Admiral King's, will be ready to retaliate as immediately as is humanly possible. With knowledge of their plans, we will be hitting them back much sooner than they expect and with much greater force."
FDR nodded approval. "It would help so much if we knew a precise date."
"Perhaps they don't know it either," the general mused. "Perhaps they are waiting for their forces to be stronger or perhaps they are waiting for pieces of the puzzle to fall into position."
"Which means, general, that we don't know all that we wish, doesn't it?"
"Correct, Mr. President. We simply don't know what additional surprises Herr Hitler might have up his sleeve."
Chapter Five
Missy Downing decided that it was time for everyone to have a little fun. War or no war, Christmas and New Years had come and gone with minimal celebrations. A few pathetic little Christmas trees had dotted the Pentagon and Missy, a plump, happy little woman with graying hair, felt there should be a break.
Thus, she proclaimed a party and invited a number of her and her husband’s friends and co-workers to their house at Fort Meade. Fortunately, it was a good-sized four bedroom colonial. The only requirement was that there would be no uniforms. She wanted none of what she told her husband was that "rank bullshit" interfering with people having a good time. He concurred and all complied although some, like Sergeant Major Farnum looked like fish out of water in civilian clothes.
The army had what she considered a ridiculous rule against enlisted men and officers drinking together, so she informed everyone that enlisted men and officers would drink separately. If they happened to be in the same room and talking to each other while they were doing it, well, so what? Besides, it was her house, her booze, and her rules. There were no complaints.
The weather outside was cold and damp, but inside it was warm, congenial, and loud. Someone was playing Andrews Sisters songs on the record player and that added to the din. Tom was nursing his second beer when he did a double take. If it wasn't for the bandage on her nose and the discolorations on her face, he wouldn't have recognized her. She still had stitches visible on her mouth, but they too seemed to be less raw. Better, she had fixed her hair and was wearing a long pre-war dress that hugged her figure, confirming that she had great legs without actually putting them on view. She was with a couple of other women and her face lit up, or so he thought, when she saw him.
"You're looking great," he said.
"Thank you. Even the memories are fading."
"I didn't know you knew the Downings that well."
"Missy called me a couple of times to ask me how I was doing. We hit it off. Even went to lunch. She's impossible to dislike and virtually insisted that I come to her party."
There was a pause. "You know," Tom said. "I don't know quite how to do this. I'd like to talk to you some more, maybe buy you a free drink, and get to know you, but?” He shrugged.
She laughed and interrupted him. "You're worried about the rank thing? Aren't we supposed to drop rank for this evening?"
"Yes, but let's face it, it's almost impossible. Can you imagine Sergeant Farnum calling me Tom and me calling him Dick? And the colonel, of course, will always be the colonel."
"You're right. Look, I'm still relatively new to this woman's army and I really don't know how things work even though I am an officer. Also I'm not going to make it a career, so it won't matter so much if I make a faux pas. After what happened, it wouldn't break my heart if they discharged me and I went back to teaching spoiled adolescents. So what if we quietly agree to use our first names for this evening and see where it goes."
Tom was delighted and she continued. "By the way, I've been told that I may be put in for a Purple Heart, although it may have to wait until we actually start fighting the Germans. Certainly the two men who were with me deserve it."
Tom thought he saw the conundrum. If the army gave her the medal for being wounded in action, they would be admitting that they knew the assault was by Germany, which would inform the Nazis that the U.S. was on to their game. Deferring the medal wasn't fair, but it would have to do. As the old saying went, life isn’t fair. The way things with Germany were deteriorating, he didn't think she'd have all that long to wait before she got it.
They grabbed another drink and went outside. The veranda was cold but relatively private with only a handful of people getting either fresh air or privacy. Missy had also declared no smoking in her house as it was so crowded, so clouds of cigarette smoke wafted upwards. He rarely smoked and she said she never did, and that was fine by him.
"Alicia, do I sense that you are disappointed with your role in the army? If so, there are several million other men and women who feel the same way."
She laughed and he liked the sound. "I think that frustrated is the better word. I was a musician and a music and art teacher and was told that my skill as a musician might enable me to be good at codes. Turns out that didn't work, so I was promoted and became a glorified messenger. Look, Tom, I don't expect to be sent to combat or command men, but we women are definitely second class members of the army, and I don't just mean pay and benefits. I don't think I'm being overly sensitive when senior officers call me 'girl,' or an enlisted man salutes me extremely sloppily while mentally undressing me. I think I have a good mind and would like to use it."
"I can't walk in your shoes and I have to admit I never gave your situation much thought at all. Before I hurt myself by saying anything more, may I change the subject? You said you were a musician, what do you play?"
"The violin. My dream was to be the lead violinist with some major symphony, like playing for the NBC Symphony and Toscanini, and doing it at Rockefeller or Carnegie, or be recorded by RCA Victor. That dream isn't coming true either. I'm very good but not good enough. When this is over I'm pretty certain I'll be able to play for a smaller symphony and maybe teach at college instead of the small girls’ high school I used to. I went to the University of Virginia and graduated with good grades, and that ought to count for something. I even played soccer and lacrosse for a local club so I’m not exactly a sissy."
Tom thought that she was good enough for him, but now was not the time to say it. "Alicia, I know you think that all army officers are barbarians who've cut their hair short and just learned to shave as well as walking upright, and this may come as a shock — but I like classical music."
"Good lord," she said with a laugh, only stopping when her wide smile stretched the stitches on her face.
"Will you play for me someday?"
She took his arm and steered him back inside. Nobody had asked her to play for them in a very long time. She would have to practice.
"Yes," she answered with another try at a smile, "but not tonight and not here."
Sounds rumbled in the distance and lights flashed in the night. It wasn't lightning and thunder. Something nasty was happening out on Lake Ontario. Canfield cursed the fact that even the best binoculars couldn't penetrate the dark. Worse, snow flurries were obscuring what visibility there was.
"Fucking Nazis are shooting at something," Dubinski said. "Correction, they're shooting at someone, not something. That ain't target practice."
True enough, thought Canfield as he shifted his bulk. It was cold and wet lying on the ground, and there was a foot of snow penetrating what the army insisted was winter gear. He could handle it, though. He didn’t regret volunteering to stand watch. If the troops could handle it, so could he. In another hour they'd be relieved and could go get warm and dry while whatever was happening out on Lake Ontario continued.