The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1944-10-27

he called, Pop Hey Pop :"
Then he crumpled, like something
stiff gone soft, folding up and sink
ing to the ground.
Mr.. Wrinkle, watching this from
beneath the command car, couldn't
believe at first that it was actual.
It had happened too quickly, too
much without warning to be any
different from field tactics in which
picked men simulated those hit
when the planes came over.
Then he realized that the plane
hadn't been friendly one.
He crawled out from beneath the
car and got to his feet. His legs
seemed to function automatically,
without any volition on his part, as
he made his way to Mr.. Tinker.
The blood spreading over Mr..
Tinker's chest made him sick and
weak. He bent and touched him,
whispering his name. But Mr.. Tink-
er didn't answer.
Mr.. Wrinkle realized something
else. When the plane went over the
second time the Alphabet's machine
gun hadn't fired.
From the fox hole now there came
| no movement. All about there was
silence.
He ran to the ridge. He arrived
breathing hard, not from exertion,
but from excitement. He gasped at
what he saw.
One of the shells from the planes
cannon had exploded in the fox hole.
The bodies of the men lay about,
some of them half buried. Freddie
was sprawled over the gun, as if
protecting it. Sergeant Czeideskrow-
ski was on his back, his open eyes
staring straight up at the burning
sun and not blinking. In a tangled
pile, Mr.. Wrinkle caught sight of
the side of Jacks still face.
A single thought ran through him
repetitiously. How will I ever tell
the Pettigrews? He asked himself.
How will I ever tell the Pettigrews?
The sound of surging water made
him turn his head.
Out of the mist had come a fiat
nosed Japanese assault boat.
Behind it, but somewhat off to
either side, were two more.
Mr.. Wrinkle sank to his knees,
both to get out of sight and because
his legs wouldn't hold him up any
more.
After a moment, he knew that he
must do something. He realized that
the whole position on Talizo might
be lost if the men in those assault
boats ever landed and infiltrated
through the jungle.
He found himself scrabbling about
in the sand of the fox hole for the
field phone. 1t wasn't in sight.
He saw the Signal Corps wire lead
ing up out of the hole. He grabbed
it, and started pulling on it.
A broken piece of the shattered
phone came into his hands.
He dropped it from nerveless fin
gers.
Helplessly, Mr.. Wrinkle watched
the leading assault boat come on.
Now it was less than a hundred
yards from the beach.
He looked back at the jeep. I'm
less the bullet holes through its
windshield meant more than they
appeared to, the car would still run.
He could get back in it to give
the alarm at the next post.
But by that time, the Japs would
have effected their landing.
Mr.. Wrinkle wished that it was not
he who had been placed in this posi-
ton. He wanted, fervently, for it to
be another man, fighter, killer, a
younger, a different, better man
than he. It flashed through his mind
that it had been a mistake to draft
and make a soldier out of a mouse.
He felt guilty at not having resigned
from the Army. A different man
here now, in his place, would have
known what to do.
Then Mr.. Wrinkle knew what to do.
It occurred to him that he hadn't
thought of himself, of his own safe
ty, when considering getting away
in the jeep. He had thought only
to give the warning of what was
| happening.
Also, he saw Mr.. Tinker lying
sprawled out there on the ground.
He remembered how he had ducked
under the command car while Mr..
Tinker fred his rifle. The recollec-
ton made him feel craven, especial
" when now Mr.. Tinker would new
er get his Jap.
He decided that he must get him
for Mr.. Tinker.
There were the Alphabet, Freddie,
Jack, and the other men to think
about, too. It Infatuated him that
Sergeant Czeideskrowski lay dead.
It made him see red to think that
after Freddie had been made into a
decent person, he had been killed.
His brain scared with a hot fame
at the thought of Jack.
It seemed to be the most natural
thing in the. world to pull Freddie s
body from the gun. Swiftly, he ex-
amined it. The gun was intact. It
needed only a new belt of ammuni-
ton.