1942

Short rose and went to a map of the island tacked to the wall. “We have four regiments. The command will be divided into two ad hoc brigades. General Wilson will command the ones at Haleiwa and at Schofield. General Murray will command the remaining two, and they will be placed to guard Barbers Point and Bellows Field.”

Collins admitted to himself that this command breakdown did make some sense. Had the reorganization of the Hawaiian Division gone into effect, Major General Durward Wilson would have commanded the 24th Division, while Major General Maxwell Murray would have taken over the 25th.

Short smiled benignly. “Look, Colonel, I know you mean well, but you’ve only been here a short time and you’ll be leaving us in just a little while.”

“I’ll be what?” Collins said in surprise.

Short permitted himself a chuckle. “Finally, something I know and you don’t. Colonel, I’ve just gotten orders to send you and a handful of others back to the mainland. I gather that General Marshall doesn’t want to take a chance on you becoming prisoners.”

“When do I leave?” Collins asked softly. This was not what he’d had in mind. He didn’t like to leave jobs unfinished, and that was precisely what was going to happen. He didn’t know what plans Marshall had for him and, although intrigued, thought he would rather stay and take part in the fighting.

“We’re making arrangements to sneak out a few planes,” Phillips said. There was no smugness in his voice. Instead, Collins picked up a hint of regret. He would not be leaving Oahu. “We have a handful of PBYs and a Pan American Clipper that had to make a landing here a couple of days ago. They are hidden and will be used at the proper time.”

Both types of planes were flying boats that could land and take off in the water. That trait made them invaluable, as every good-size landing field had been attacked by the Japs.

‘Who’ll replace me?” Collins asked.

Short appeared to wince. It had been his earlier decision to appoint the incompetent Fielder to the position now held by Collins that had caused so many problems. “Bicknell,” the general said. “Novacek will be his second.

“Are you promoting Novacek? He sure as hell deserves it.”

Short looked at the ceiling. An explosion rumbled in the distance. If he had listened to Novacek in the first place, he thought, perhaps the situation wouldn’t be quite so grave. Perhaps he’d even have a reputation left.

“Yeah,” the general said softly. “Promote the SOB.”

Jamie Priest had no idea which source of his suffering was the worst. Was it the fire from the sun that baked the bare portions of his skin, causing it to blister and resulting in agonies of the damned? Or was it the salt water as it washed over his body and over those blisters and increased his torments?

No, Jamie decided, it was the thirst. In comparison with thirst, anything else was trivial. The thirst was killing him and driving him mad. Had driven him mad? Was he already insane?

He had been at least two days without water, probably longer- he’d lost track of time. Already several of his companions had died or just given up and let themselves slide into the sea to end their pain. All of those who’d been more than slightly wounded in the tragic encounter with the Japanese fleet were dead, and he wasn’t certain about the rest. It’d been a long time since he’d spoken to anyone, or heard a voice call out.

At first Jamie and the others had hoped that the ocean currents would push them east toward the mainland, but the winds had been contrary, which meant they’d likely not gone far at all. Floating to California had been a forlorn and ludicrous hope anyhow. Without food or water, they’d have been dead for weeks before they got near the place.

But at least the thought had given them some faint whisper of hope. That hope had vanished when reality set in as time passed. They were adrift in the Pacific without food, water, or shelter, and, while the temperatures weren’t at all difficult to endure, the constant exposure to salt water, wind, and sun had scraped them raw.

Maybe the dead were the lucky ones. Jamie knew he would join them very shortly. He had been drifting in and out of consciousness for some time and now was experiencing delirium and hallucinations. There was a whale on the water, and it was staring at him Impossible, a rational corner of his mind said. Whales go in the water and not on it. And whales do not have holes in their sides. Okay, he thought, that made it a building and not a whale, but there aren’t any buildings in the middle of the Pacific either, so that meant it must be a whale after all.

He heard someone say “easy,” and then he felt strong hands lift him out of the water and into the belly of the whale or whatever it was. I’m Jonah, he thought and giggled silently. He tried to say something, but his lips were scabbed over and wouldn’t work.