The Fly Boys by T. E. Cruise Read Free Book Online Page B

buildings were “Polly’s Pit,” the barracks dive where the off-duty Marine officers did their drinking,
     and the big, barnlike hangars for the Marine squadrons of Corsairs. Cappy Fitzpatrick’s single Army Air Force squadron of
     P-47 Thunderbolts was making do under open-sided canvas awnings. The squadron’s combination operations and ready room was
     comprised of a couple of Nissen huts shoved together wth the center walls removed.
    Steve caught a whiff of freshly brewed coffee. He listened intently, and heard the clatter of pots and pans that meant the
     squadron’s mess was coming to life. The Army pilots and squadron ground personnel were all bivouacked —read that, segregated
     from Marine personnel—in the same area of the base. The squadron had its own supplies, followed its own rules, and more or
     less lived in an uneasy truce with the Marines who controlled the island. There’d been a couple of brawls between the webfoot
     and Army enlisted men, but that was to be expected. Mixing branches of the service was like mixing cats and dogs.
    Steve stubbed out his smoke in a sand-filled ration can. He made sure that his silver first lieutenant’s bars were pinned
     to his shirt collar, and silver wings were affixed just above his left breast pocket flap. He put on his billed, tan cotton
     flight cap with a first lieutenant’s bar pinned to the crown, and grabbed his .45 in its shoulder holster off his footlocker
     at the end of his cot. There were still Japanese ground forces hiding out in the island’s jungle interior, and the base had
     experienced some trouble with enemy sappers trying to infiltrate by night and snipers during the day. Marines guarded the
     base perimeter, but all personnel were nevertheless required to carry sidearms.
    Steve adjusted the shoulder holster’s harness and left his tent, heading for the mess. He hadn’t gone more than a few paces
     before the sweat began rolling out of him, soaking his shirt. He stopped to remove his cap and mop his brow with his handkerchief,
     and that’s when he saw it.
    It was a large canvas tarp stretched like a billboard between two poles at the entrance to the Army encampment. Neatly painted
     in bright white paint on the olive green tarp was:
    Here by the lair of Army Air
    On patrol their Jugs make loud dins;
    But when it comes to a bout,
    These guys never put out;
    Marines call them the Vigilant Virgins
.
    Several of the pilots and a bunch of the squadron’s ground personnel were all staring up at the thing, grumbling about it,
     as Steve walked over. Lousy rhyming aside, this was one hell of an insult to the squadron, Steve thought furiously.
    And it hurt all the more because it was true.
    The insult was painted on both sides of the tarp so that everyone could see it. It must have gone up sometime during the night.
     Steve hadn’t noticed it earlier on his way to the latrine, but he’d been pretty much walking in his sleep.
    “Anyone know if the major’s seen this?” Steve asked.
    “I don’t think so,” one of the other pilots said. He was a captain named Crawford.
    Steve nodded and turned to a corporal. “You go get the major.”
    “Jeez, Lieutenant, you know how the major likes to sleep late,” the corporal complained.
    “Get him, dammit!” Steve exploded.
    “Okay, Lieutenant, calm down,” the corporal said as he took off. “
I
didn’t put the thing up.”
    “Take it easy, Lieutenant,” Crawford said.
    A group of Marines were passing by. They were on their way to guard duty. They were wearing helmets, camouflage-printed jungle
     suits, and carrying M-1 carbines, Garands, and Thompson submachine guns. The Marines paused to read the tarp and made a point
     of laughing as loudly as they could, before sauntering on.
    Steve waited until the webfoots were out of earshot and then turned to Crawford. “See that, Captain? The Marines think we’re
     shit!” He turned to a couple of enlisted men. “You two get this tarp down, and