The Far Reaches by Homer Hickam Read Free Book Online

out of the water and fell onto the beach. He was a bit shaken but unscratched—
a bit of luck for sartain.
When Ready had discovered Captain Thurlow was no longer on the troopship, he’d figured out what his skipper had probably done. To find him, Ready had come in with a bunch of engineers who’d been sent to defuse a line of underwater mines near the reef that fronted Red Beach Two. After motoring in as close as possible, the engineers had jumped into the water. Ready followed, ducking machine-gun bullets, and swam around until the lead engineer announced that, as far as he could tell, none of the mines were armed. “Guess the Japs got in too much of a hurry,” he concluded before being struck in the head by a bullet.
    The engineers swam back to their boat, pulling their dead sergeant with them. After a moment of indecision, Ready decided to strike out on his own for shore. His captain was surely there, and there he had to go. He swam steadily, an occasional bullet plinking nearby, until he arrived at a long pier jutting perpendicular from the beach. Ready had taken off his shoes before going into the water, so after crawling ashore beneath the pier, he took a dead marine’s boots that looked like they would fit. Since he’d also taken off his shirt, he put on the dead man’s utility shirt as well, then plopped aboard his helmet, too. Finally prepared, Ready clambered from the protection of the pier and set off down the beach, hoping to find Captain Thurlow. Before long, he came upon three live marines squatting beside a dozen dead ones. “Any of you seen a Coast Guard captain?” Ready asked politely.
    The three marines stared at him. “No, sir!” one of them chirped. “Do you have orders for us, sir?”
    Ready was surprised at the response. “I don’t have any orders. I just want to find my captain.”
    â€œAll the officers we’ve seen on this beach are dead, sir,” the marine answered, “except for yourself, of course.”
    That was when Ready realized he had taken the clothes off a dead marine officer. He wondered what his rank was and surreptitiously glanced at his collar. He was astonished to discover that he was a major and that, based on his reading of his name tape, his name was Deer.
    â€œSir, if we stay here, we’ll get killed, for sartain,” one of the marines said urgently.
    Ready lit up like a bonfire when he heard the marine’s brogue. “Where are you from, boy, and what’s your name?”
    â€œNorth Carolina Outer Banks. Hatteras Island. I’m Frank Tucker.”
    â€œI knew a Bill Tucker,” Ready said. “He came down to Killakeet to stomp clams from time to time.”
    â€œBill’s my brother.”
    Ready felt like hugging the marine. He’d found a neighbor! Then he decided it wouldn’t be seemly for a major to go around hugging enlisted men, even neighborly ones. “The Tucker family were always good fishermen,” he said, with the reserve he felt appropriate to his new rank.
    The marine named Tucker, even if he was from the Outer Banks, didn’t seem to be in the mood for reminiscing. “Major, there don’t seem to be no-body in front of us,” he advised. “I think the Japs figure they’ve killed everybody on this particular stretch of beach, and they have, pretty much. That’s why we’ve been kind of sitting here, real quiet-like, hoping not to call attention to ourselves.”
    Ready nodded. “That makes sense.”
    One of the other marines gave Ready a semi-salute as if fearful of doing the wrong thing. “I’m Private Sampson, sir. New Jersey.”
    Ready semi-saluted him back. “Well, Private Sampson, what do you think we should do?”
    â€œI guess we ought to invade this island, sir. That’s what they sent us here to do. Do you think it would be all right if we got off this beach and killed us a few