“Well you’re gonna get one.”
Liddy dropped down and rolled away from the squad. The Navy boys accepted the challenge and rolled out after her. She was flying topside of one of the flyers and he tried to roll over her. She rolled the other way and gained the upper position.
“So, you like to be on top, hey, Army?”
“Much better view,” Liddy said.
She gave those boys a wild ride that day. The planes tumbled and rolled until Liddy pulled up alongside their commander and called out, “Hate to leave you all alone out here, but I gotta get back on course.”
“Nice flying, Army.” The pilot snapped a salute and peeled away.
Liddy was correcting her course when she grabbed her radio and dialed in her squad, “Avenger 77, I’m headed your way—” Sparks snapped like the fourth of July from underneath the panel. “Dammit.”
Liddy dropped the receiver and it bounced around the floor of the cockpit. When the sparks died down, she reeled the mike in by the cord and then clicked in over and over, but the radio was gone. When she tossed it into the panel out of frustration, she noticed that her instruments were not registering. She tapped and then pounded the dials, but the tags bounced lifeless at the rims.
The sun was sinking on the horizon, and the wind whipped a screech around the base. Major Trent stood in front of the day’s flight boards, which were cleared off except for Liddy’s name.
Kyle Dixon jogged to the boards and asked, “Hall still isn’t in yet?”
“No. Did you check Hobs?” Trent asked.
“No, not yet.”
“Well, do it now!” commanded Trent.
The mess filled and emptied, and the buildings darkened as curfew grew near. Trent stood in the doorway of his quarters and watched the lights of the planes up for night training. He searched in between to see one that was flying dark. The plane Liddy was in didn’t have night-fly equipment. If she came in before morning, the other pilots wouldn’t see her, and it would be a scramble in the tower to clear a spot for her.
A trainee had never gone missing since he reported to Avenger. But what was racking him now was more than concern for someone under his command. A weight filled his chest and everything went gray. He spent the night in a chair with a view out the window, and he waited for the phone to ring and feared the moment that it would.
Liddy’s baymates had all been called in to report on their missing squad member. Surely, Liddy would be booted if they told why she had left formation, so they agreed that they would all say that she was gone before any of them had noticed. But they were pretty sure that Major Trent and Captain Charles didn’t believe them. If they did, their story made them all look like a bunch of idiots, but they didn’t care. No one slept; instead, the women lay in their beds worrying. In the dark they listened to the planes buzzing overhead, hoping one of them was Liddy.
“We should have told the Major and Captain Charles the truth,” sobbed Bet. “It might have helped them figure out where she is.”
“It wouldn’t make any difference, Bet. We told them where we were when we saw her last, none of the rest is gonna help them find her.” Louise tried to keep the concern from her voice.
“But maybe they could have tracked down the Navy squadron, and they might know something.” Marina wiped her wrist across her nose.
“What? Call out the whole Navy?” asked Joy Lynn, “Ask if they know what happened to the hot fly girl that was junkin’ around with one of their squadrons? I didn’t get any plane IDs. Did any of you?”
A silence hung in the air. Doubt made his rounds to their beds and told them they had made a big mistake.
“Look, if she comes in, it’ll be better for Liddy that we kept quiet,” said Louise.
“If?” Bet and Marina cried out together.
“When, I mean when,” assured Louise, “Look, she’s fine, I can feel it.”
When morning came, word had spread across the base that Liddy hadn’t come in and the worst was assumed. Bet couldn’t get out of bed to go to calisthenics or the flight line, and her friends said she was sick to keep her from being pink slipped. It was mid-afternoon when a truck drove through the front gates and Liddy climbed out. Marina came and told Bet, who ran across the base in her nightgown.
Major Trent was on the phone when Liddy burst into his office. Tired and dirty, her body and mind wrung out, she held up a pink slip. “Thanks for the homecoming.”
“Excuse me, sir, I’ll need to call you back.” Trent hung up the phone and stood up behind his desk. “You left your squad. And if you emergency land, you call for a pick-up.”
“Your plane is fine. I landed it clean.”
“This is not about the plane.”
“What’s it about then?”
“It’s about following orders.”
“The electrical went haywire. My radio and instruments went dead. I was in the middle of nowhere by the time I tanked out.” Liddy tossed the pink slip on the desk. “Phones were a little scarce.”
“You should have waited with your plane, Hall, that’s procedure.”
“And I’d still be waiting. I saw a ranch before I found a place to land. I walked and was there by dark, but they didn’t have a phone, but I did get a ride.”
“There have been planes up since last night looking for you. Your plane was located two hours ago, plane and no pilot. A crew has already gone out to retrieve it. You should have waited through the night if you had to.”
“I waited… but then I…What if it had been days before I was found?”
“Staying where you land is the safest procedure for the pilot and the plane. Staying with your squadron would have avoided the situation altogether.” Trent clenched his jaw and stared at her. “You could have been out for this. Why did you leave your squad?”
Liddy knew she couldn’t tell the Major the reason she had left formation, and she couldn’t lie to him. The cockpit striptease would get them all pink slipped or worse, most likely worse. Liddy froze.
“Hall?” Trent waited for Liddy to answer. He wanted her to answer, but she didn’t. “You left your squad. You landed and you didn’t stay with the plane.” His voice and his face were so hard. Maybe it was anger, hurt or disappointment. She couldn’t read it. It never occurred to her that it might be fear. “You will not pick and choose the procedures, regulations or orders you will adhere to. Those are not your planes out there. This is not your playground. This is the Army.”
“Yes, sir,” she said it softly, averting her gaze to the window as she fought back tears.
“Maybe this isn’t the place for you.”
Liddy looked up at him. “What did you say?”
“You heard me.”
Her eyes burned and filled with tears. She lifted her chin and looked straight into his eyes. “Maybe it isn’t.” It certainly wasn’t the place she wanted to be at that moment. She wanted to be anywhere other than Avenger Field. Her heart hurt and fired up with anger, frustration and sadness all at once.
“You’re dismissed, Hall.”
Liddy grabbed the pink slip off the desk and left.
When Liddy entered the bay, the girls sat somberly on the beds, waiting for the news. She was holding the pink slip and all eyes zeroed in on it. She folded it neatly and tossed it in her locker. “Control yourself, HPs, you’re overwhelming me with your excitement.”
“Liddy, I’m sorry, this was all my fault,” said Bet. “What happened?”
“I lost my radio and instruments. I didn’t know how far I’d flown off course with the Navy boys and then my fuel clocked-out. I’m here. Am I the only one who’s happy about this ending?”