PFC Hastings rose once again from behind his typewriter as they walked into the outer office.
"Two things, Hastings," Charley said.
"Yes, Sir?"
"I don't want to hear that you've been here after 1730."
"Sir, I've got a lot to do."
"It'll wait."
"Aye, aye, Sir. And the second thing?"
"Cut a promotion order for the colonel's signature," Galloway said. "Make yourself a corporal."
"Aye, aye, Sir."
(Five)
NEAR WAIALUA, OAHU
TERRITORY OF HAWAII
1800 HOURS 7 JULY 1942
Greeting her dinner guests, Lieutenant Commander Florence Kocharski, Nurse Corps, USN, was attired in sandals and a shapeless, loose fitting cotton dress printed with brightly colored flowers, called a Muumuu. Over her ear she had a gardenia stuck through her silver hair.
"Hi, Charley," she said and let him kiss her cheek.
He handed her a brown paper sack which obviously contained bottles.
"Flo, this is Jim Ward," Charley Galloway said. "He's a friend of mine. I didn't think you would mind if I brought him along."
"No, of course not," Flo said, not very convincingly. "There's enough food to feed an army. How are you, Lieutenant?"
"I said 'friend,' Flo," Charley said. "His aunt is my girl. He introduced us."
Technical Sergeant Stefan Oblensky, USMC, attired in sandals, short pants, and a gaily flowered loose fitting cotton shirt, appeared behind her.
"Jesus, Charley!" he said, his tone torn between hurt and anger.
"I'm going to say this again," Galloway said. "Jim is a friend. More than a friend. Damned near family. My girl is his aunt."
"Yeah, sure," Big Steve said, far from mollified.
"And I told him what's going on here," Charley said. "He knows how to keep his mouth shut."
"What the hell," Flo said. "What's done is done. Come on and we'll open the jug." She put her arm around Jim Ward. "I know more about your aunt than I really want to know," she said. "He doesn't talk about her much, but once he gets started, you can't shut him up."
Jim smiled at her shyly.
"He told me about you, too," he said.
"He did? What?"
"About you being on the West Virginia on Pearl Harbor Day and getting the Silver Star."
"Like I say, sometimes you can't shut him up," Flo said.
With her arm still around his shoulders-she was just as tall as he was, and outweighed him by twenty pounds-Flo marched Jim Ward across the small living room of the frame cottage and into the kitchen.
She took the two bottles of scotch from the bag, opened one, and set out glasses. Then she reached under the sink and opened an insulated gray steel container, labeled MEDICAL CORPS USN, and took ice from it.
"No refrigerator," she said, as she dropped ice cubes in the glasses, "and the head is that small wooden building out there. But what the hell, what do they say, 'Be It Ever So Humble'?"
"It's very nice," Jim said.
"It belongs to a guy, retired Marine, who lets us use it," she said.
"Charley told me you were up here on Pearl Harbor Day," Jim said.
"He told you that, too, did he? He say who he was with?"
Jim shook his head "no."
Flo laughed. "Then I won't."
"Then you won't what?" Charley said, coming into the kitchen.
"I won't tell him who you was with on Sunday, December seven."
Galloway chuckled. "I was hoping you would," he said. "I was hoping you would have a motherly word to him about the dangers of getting involved with certain members of the Navy Nurse Corps."
"Don't play Mr. Innocent with me, Charley. The way I remember that, nobody had to drag you up here."
"This was all, Jim, pre-Caroline, when I was a footloose and carefree flying sergeant, like skinhead here."
"I told you, Charley," Flo said, "I don't like you to call Stefan that."
"Well, 'Curly' sure doesn't fit," Galloway said, unabashed.
"Who are you talking about?" Jim asked.
"One of Flo's angels of mercy," Charley said.
"Angel, my ass," Flo said. "I'm always wondering if she won't say something to somebody about Stefan and me, out of pure bitchiness."