Chapter 8
Two days later brought an armada of buses flocking to the base; everyone was clearing out. The quiet on the bus was scary, everyone lost in their thoughts as our home for the last many months disappeared behind us.
We were transferred onto a train for the long ride east, which took over a day. Halifax harbor was bustling with activity under a cold gray sky when we arrived, army personnel and local stevedores moving crate after crate onto the waiting ships. We were assigned to the S.S. Orion and moved onto the ship immediately upon arrival. It was a huge passenger liner that the war office had commandeered and was now being used to transfer troops.
We were dispatched to a cabin deep in the bowels of the ship, four levels below the main deck. In a room that seemed barely big enough to house a married couple on vacation, four of us were now crammed in. I was happy to see that Chester and Harry had been assigned to bunk with Johnny and me. George had been put with the three city boys, Sam, Bill, and Sid.
“Jesus Christ, Harry, did you just fart?” Johnny said as he made a face. I instinctively sniffed, my nasal passages immediately assaulted by what smelled like rotten burning cabbage. In the cramped quarters, the overwhelming stench was positively deadly.
Harry lay on his bunk sniggering, the universal response of the guilty farter.
“You rotten bastard, one more like that and I’ll throw you overboard myself,” Chester said as he opened the door to our cabin and wafted it back and forth.
RRRRRRRIIPPPP!
Harry responded by raising his cheek and letting loose with a second thundering volley, the lengthy fart resonating loudly before he collapsed back onto his bunk, his body shaking with laughter.
“Oh my God, let me outa here!” I said as I dove for the door. Johnny and Chester were right behind me, pulling the door shut.
“Hey guys, open the door,” Harry said, yanking on the door while Chester held it tightly closed from the outside.
“Stay in there and suffocate, you stinking shitbag,” Chester replied.
“I’m dying in here, let me out,” begged Harry as he banged on the door.
“C’mon, let’s go check out the ship,” said Johnny as he turned and started walking down the corridor. “There’s no way I’m going back in there for at least an hour.”
We followed, with Harry close behind once Chester had let go of the door. We made our way over the full length of the ship, amazed at the size. My mom would have been pleased, because just like she said when she was after me to tidy up, there seemed to be place for everything and everything in its place. There didn’t seem to be a wasted square inch anywhere.
Soldiers were everywhere, scurrying to and fro. There must have been a couple of thousand onboard. I had visions of the Titanic running through my head. I was sure it was fated that giant icebergs would cleave right through the metal hull of this massive bathtub like a hot knife through butter. All that would be left would be thousands of dead bodies floating in the Atlantic, the end to a perfect wet-dream for the Krauts.
“Jesus, it’s cold,” Chester said as we stood on deck and looked over the rail. He was right; the dampness in the air felt like it was slipping right beneath your skin and wrapping itself around your bones.
“How do fishermen do it?” Harry asked.
“I don’t know,” I replied, shivering. “Just think about that the next time you open a can of tuna.”
“Let’s get a cup of Joe.” We found the mess hall and grabbed some coffee, the bitter aromatic brew warming our bones.
“How long do you think it’ll take to get to England?” Harry asked, nipping at a cookie.
“One guy told me it usually takes about seven or eight days, depending on the weather,” I replied.
Chester decided to join the conversation. “It kind of makes you wonder why the Krauts don’t just sit a few miles off shore in a sub and blow this whole thing out of the water.”
“I think they’re probably busier a little closer to home,” I responded. “Besides, did you see the size of that battleship sitting across the harbor?”
“Yeah, why?”
“Apparently that baby is going to be our escort all the way there. If the Jerrys try anything, they’ll have to deal with them first.”
“I’ll sleep better knowing that; if I can sleep at all. Have any of you guys ever been on a boat before? One guy told me a lot of guys get seasick, especially their first time.” None of us had been on any kind of boat in our lives.
“I think that seasick thing’s a crock of shit,” said Johnny. “Look at this thing; it’s huge. I don’t think you’ll feel anything. It’ll be just like sitting in the bathtub with the water lapping softly at your nuts.”
The first night proved Johnny wrong. Once the ship headed out into the open sea, it seemed like all hell broke loose. The swells rocked the ship from side to side as it plowed forward. It started out with each of us feeling a little queasy. I tried to shake my head to clear it, but I think that just made it worse. Within an hour or two of being at sea, each of us took our turn barfing up our dinner. Green around the gills was an understatement; I felt like I was green in every pore of my wretched body.
“Those fishermen have to be fucking nuts,” Johnny said as he leaned over the toilet and wretched. The four of us were laid out on our cots, moaning and groaning as the ship continued to rhythmically sway from side to side. We were too absorbed in our own swirling misery to say a word about Harry’s constant farting, the noxious miasma hanging over our little cabin like a deathly cloud.
It was like that for about twenty-four hours. After that we were finally able to keep down some soup. From the other gray and sallow faces scattered about the mess hall, we weren’t the only ones suffering. The next day was better again, the queasiness and disorientation slowly diminishing. We ate some solid food, finally being able to keep it down.
We actually felt like members of the human race again, and as such, we spread our wings and got into a little mischief. Johnny found the card games quick enough, coming back to the cabin loaded up with enough smokes for the whole squad. They had a bingo game going nonstop, plus one room had been set up and was showing movies. Charlie Chaplin and the Marx Brothers brought some much-needed levity from the perpetual uncertainty of what might lie before us.
The weather remained cold and dreary as we followed in the wake of the massive battleship, edging ever closer to England. We remained below deck the whole time, the unflagging wind and bitter cold a constant deterrent to going topside.
Four days into our voyage, Murphy approached our table during the dinner hour. “Nuzurka, Russo, you guys have drawn deck patrol tonight.”
Our usual group of eight was sitting together, and we all looked at each other, totally perplexed.
“What’s deck patrol, Sir?” Sam asked on behalf of the bewildered masses.
“Was I talking to you, DuPree?” Murphy snapped back. He spoke directly to Johnny and me. “You two report to the main deck via Stairwell B at 20:00 for a four-hour shift. The guys you’re replacing will meet you there and tell you what to do.” He went to leave and then turned back, a sick grin on his face. “Oh yeah, you better dress warm too.”
The table remained silent until Murphy was out of hearing range.
“I bet he’s got hemorrhoids on his ass that he likes better than you guys?” Sam said.
“Is he serious, deck patrol in this kind of weather?” Harry said. The wind and rain had been lashing the ship all day. “What the hell are you patrolling for anyway? You can’t see fuck all over the side, and nobody’s even gonna try and go outside in this shit.”
Johnny and I looked at each other and shrugged our shoulders in resignation. We knew it was just another way for Murphy to get back at us for what had happened outside Finnegan’s. He could have picked any of the guys, but, of course, he chose his two favourite patsies.
“You ready?” I asked fifteen minutes before we were due to report.
“As ready as I??
?ll ever be,” Johnny replied with a dismal shake of his head. “Let’s go.”
It was difficult moving with the multiple layers of clothing we’d packed on, but I figured we’d appreciate it in the end. We climbed up to the main deck via Stair B and waited just inside the door, the rain and wind howling outside. There was a little porthole in the door, but you couldn’t see anything through it as the rain pelted against it continuously.
“Let’s have a quick smoke before we have to go out in that,” Johnny said. “You got your matches? I left my lighter in the room.”
We were enjoying a few final drags as the door flew open and two guys covered in slickers barrelled in.
“Fuck me,” one of them said, slamming the door closed behind him. They leaned against the walls gasping; water running off of them in rivulets. Their heads were covered by knit caps with a rain hat over top that was tied beneath their chins. Their bodies were covered by long rain cloaks that went almost to their knees, the valleys of the repellent material channelling the water into growing puddles on the deck floor.
“I sure as shit hope you two poor bastards are our replacements,” the guy said as he eyeballed us.
“Yeah; we were told to report here at 20:00 for a deck patrol shift,” I said. “Our sergeant said you’d tell us what to do.”
“Oh he did, did he?” the guy said with a dismayed shake of his head. “That’s the same thing we were told! The guys who were out here before us didn’t know shit either. Listen, it’s fucking horrible out there. You’re just supposed to make sure nobody goes out on deck or tries to go somewhere they shouldn’t. It’s a goddamned joke on a night like this. Anybody who’s nuts enough to go out there unless they have to should be locked up in a loony bin.”
“So nobody went out during your shift?”
“Not a fucking soul. I’ll bet you won’t see anyone either. Just make sure you don’t go too near the edge; that wind’s a bitch. Stick close to the center and keep moving, or you’ll freeze your ass off in no time.” He looked us up and down as his partner pulled off his slicker. “You’ll find some rain gear in that cupboard behind you.”
We opened the door he was pointing to and grabbed a couple of the stiff cloaks and hats while they hung theirs on some spare hooks to dry.
“Are the other guys from your squad coming to replace you at 22:00?” he asked.
“Uh, no; we were told it was a four-hour shift,” Johnny said.
“Four hours? Are you fucking kidding me?”
“That’s…..that’s what our sergeant told us.”
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered under his breath. I saw his partner shake his head. “Every other squad is having two groups break up each four-hour shift.” He looked at us, unbelieving. “Well, good luck boys. You’re gonna need it.”
“What the hell,” Johnny said as we watched the two weary men walk away. “It sounds like Murphy is screwing us over again.”
“Yeah,” I replied as I pulled the stiff hat down over the wool cap I’d already crammed on. “Let’s just get this over with.” We slung our rifles over our shoulders and opened the door.
“Holy shit!” I gasped as the raging wind nearly tore the door out of my hand. We lowered our heads and stepped outside, pulling the door shut behind us. The wind bit right through us immediately, the layers of clothing seeming like nothing more than tissue paper. We turned and put our backs to the wind and made our way along the wall, the deck stretching out about twelve feet away from us until the railing separated us from the freezing water below. We stuck close to the superstructure as we made our way around the ship, seeing not one living soul on our first circuit.
It took us an hour to make three complete circuits, the wind directly in our faces as we came up the port side. It lashed us with stinging pellets of rain, the slicker and rain cap doing little to keep us dry. By the time the first hour was up, we were soaked through.
“Let’s go in and grab a smoke,” Johnny yelled into my ear. Even then, I could barely hear him over the howling gale. We hustled inside, relieved to hear the door seal closed behind us. My hands were shaking as I lit a match, only to have a big droplet of water slide off my hat and extinguish the little flame.
“Shit!” I grumbled as I sparked up another, this time successfully.
“This is insane,” Johnny grumbled as he took a deep drag on his smoke.
“You know this is just another way for Murphy to try and bust our balls,” I replied.
“He is such a bastard. I’d like to see him go out for even half an hour.”
We stood sullenly smoking, trying to coax the warmth from the cigarettes into our soaked bodies.
“C’mon,” I said as I took a final drag. “Let’s get back out there before he shows up.”
“He’s probably nice and comfortable watching tonight’s movie. He’s not gonna budge from there.”
“Trust me, he’ll show up.”
We went back out and continued with our duty, slowly circling the ship, always staying close to the superstructure. There were times the rain seemed to be coming down sideways, blowing right in our faces. The cold water trickled down our necks and found its way through any little gap in our clothing. We took a break after the second hour. I pulled off my gloves and rubbed my hands together in a vain attempt to get some feeling back in my numb fingers.
“Well, well, look what we have here, Lieutenant.” Murphy’s gruff voice caused us to look down the corridor, he and Riddick walking slowly towards us.
“Looks like you owe me a buck, Sarge,” said Riddick, that rat-like smile on his face. “I told you they’d be slacking off.”
“I told the Lieutenant here that you guys took your duties seriously, that you’d be on duty when we got here. Not only have you two cost me a buck, but you’re making me look like a chump for having faith in you.” He shook his head in disgust as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a one-dollar bill. “Here you go, Lieutenant. I always pay off my bets. It’ll cost you a smoke though.”
Riddick pocketed the cash and pulled a pack of smokes out of his breast pocket, flicking open his lighter and sparking up their butts after they each took one. They seemed to make a big production out of being able to relax and enjoy their cigarettes as Johnny and I stood there, shivering and suffering.
Murphy took a drag and then addressed us. “So, have you fuck-tards done anything at all or have you just been in here all night yanking on your dicks?”
“We just came in for a quick break, Sir,” I said. “It’s pretty vicious out there.”
“You two girls can’t take a little rain?” he said sarcastically. “I’m sorry we’re not on a cruise in the tropics.” He paused as that tell-tale scowl reappeared. “Maybe then you could do your fucking jobs.”
“Sir,” Johnny interjected, “we heard from the guys before us that every squad was working in two hour shifts. They said each squad had two groups of guys to spell each other off.”
Murphy got this astonished look on his face. “Did you hear anything about that, Lieutenant?”
“No Sir; just that we were responsible for a four-hour shift.”
“That’s what I heard, too.” He looked at us again, that smug look on his face that I just wanted to slap right off. “Besides, being the nice guys that you are, I figured you wouldn’t want to put any of your buddies out by making them come outside on a night like this. Because of your generosity, they’re all down there enjoying that Jimmy Cagney movie. I’m sure they’ll thank you for it later.”
He took another drag before flicking his butt to the floor and stamping it out with his boot. “So, it looks like break time is up, boys.” He nodded towards the door, the howling wind and lashing rain pounding against it.
Johnny and I pulled our gloves back on, jammed our hats down tight, went back out and started a new circuit. When we got back to the door, we could still see them talking through the little glass porthole.
“I’m gonna kill that fucker someday,” Johnny said, his
mouth close to my ear as he shouted above the piercing wind.
“C’mon,” I said as I pulled him along, the water beneath our boots sluicing along the deck boards. “Let’s keep moving or we’ll freeze to death out here. We’ll worry about those two later.”
We barely had the strength left to open the door at midnight. We fell inside, Johnny crumpling to his knees.
“Are you guys okay?” one of our two replacements said.
We didn’t even have the strength to answer. They helped us take off the rain gear and throw it into the closet. Holding onto each other, we stumbled like a couple of drunks to our quarters before collapsing onto our bunks.
“Jesus Christ!” Chester said as he flipped on the light, our noisy entry having awakened Harry and him. He looked at the two us lying in wet heaps on our beds, exhausted and trembling with cold. “Oh shit. Harry, get up! Help me with these two.”
We lay there, shivering and numb as Harry and Chester worked together to strip off our wet clothes. They rubbed us down with towels, dressed us in dry clothes and then bundled us under all the blankets we had, including their own. I finally fell asleep, the chattering of my teeth the last sound I heard.
“Here, have some of this.” I flicked my eyes open the next morning to see Harry standing beside my bed, the alluring scent of fresh coffee coming from the steaming mug in his hand. I pushed the covers off and wearily sat up, my whole body stiff and aching. “That’s good. Drink some.”
The cup was hot to the touch, but I barely noticed. I took a sip, the exquisite warmth of the bitter liquid soothing my sore throat. I took another sip, and then another.
“God, that’s good,” Johnny said and I looked up to see that Chester had given him the same treatment.
“You guys looked like you were about dead when you came back last night,” Chester said as he looked from one to the other of us. “What the fuck happened?”
As we sipped our coffees, we related the events of the evening, letting them know what the other guys had told us about guys in each squad working in separate shifts.
“What a rotten bastard,” Harry said as our frozen bodies seemed to slowly thaw from the inside out, the steaming coffee working its magic.
“I knew Murphy was a prick, but I figured he was just using you guys as examples to keep the rest of us in line. But after this, I don’t know…..he must have it in for you two for some reason.” He looked at us quizzically, as if we both knew something he didn’t. Johnny and I simply shrugged our shoulders, neither one of us wanting to say anything about what had happened behind Finnegan’s tavern.
“Try and forget it,” Harry said as he grabbed my arm and helped me to my feet. “It’s probably better if you guys just try and stay out of his way. Let’s go get some breakfast; getting some hot oatmeal into you will make you feel a lot better.”
We slowly dressed, our aching bones still feeling cold and sore.
“Have you guys seen my lighter?” Johnny asked as he rummaged through his stuff.
“No,” both responded.
“I was sure I left it right here.”
“C’mon, let’s go get some chow before it’s all gone,” Chester said. “You can look for it later.”
Just as Harry had said, the oatmeal seemed to work wonders for us. It reminded me of home, and a twinge of sadness went through me as I ate mouthful after mouthful of the comforting food. Another cup of hot coffee was like icing on the cake.
“Hey, look over there,” Johnny said, his eyebrows knitted questioningly. I followed his gaze two tables over where Murphy and Riddick were sitting, enjoying a smoke with their morning coffee.
“What?” I asked.
“Riddick. Look what he’s doing.” I turned back to see Riddick hypnotically flicking his lighter open and closed, the distinctive metallic ‘Clank’ of a Zippo ringing through the air.
“Yeah, so what?”
“That’s my lighter,” Johnny said angrily under his breath.
“Are you sure?” Chester asked. If that was really Johnny’s lighter, I knew how furious he would be. It had been his father’s.
“Damn right I’m sure,” he said as he got up from his chair. He stormed over to their table. “Hey Riddick, where’d you get that lighter?”
“It’s mine. I’ve had it for years.”
“The hell you have. That’s mine!”
“Whoa! Easy there, Private,” Murphy interjected. All eyes in the place were on the table now. “You better watch yourself, young man.” It made me sick how Murphy never seemed to use his pet names for us when anybody else was around, other than that first day at the recruitment depot. “Are you accusing this man of something?”
“All I’m saying is that he’s got my lighter. I don’t really give a shit about how he got it, I just want it back.”
“Easy now, Son,” Murphy said, patting the air with his hands like a teacher trying to quiet a noisy class. I couldn’t believe he’d just called Johnny ‘Son’. “Now Lt. Riddick, you say this is definitely your lighter?”
“Yes, Sir. My father gave it to me.”
“Like hell he did!” I could see Johnny tense up as he spoke. “How come I’ve never seen you use it before?” He was right, I recalled seeing Riddick light up with matches, but never a lighter.
“I had it stored away for safe keeping. I just decided to bring it out.”
“You lying piece of shit. Give it back!”
“THAT’S ENOUGH, PRIVATE!” Murphy’s loud voice put everybody back on their heels. He waited a moment until things calmed down. “Private Russo, can you prove that this is your lighter?”
“Yes Sir.”
“How?”
“On the bottom you can see the initials G.R.”
“G.R.?”
“Yes Sir. Giuseppe Russo, my father. It used to be his.”
“Very clever, Russo,” Riddick said, shaking his head in dismay. “I can’t believe this.”
“What?”
“There’s a G.R. on the bottom alright,” Riddick said as he turned the lighter upside down for all to see.
“See,” Johnny said excitedly, pointing to the engraved letters.
“Yeah, it stands for George Riddick, MY father.” Riddick slipped the lighter back into his breast pocket, as if to say the case was closed.
“You son-of-a-bitch!” Johnny launched himself over the table at Riddick, who seemed to be expecting it. He jumped out of the way as Johnny flailed at nothing but air. Riddick turned and his fist thrust forward, catching Johnny on the side of his jaw, knocking him to the floor.
“THAT’S ENOUGH!” Murphy boomed loudly, holding everyone in their place. He turned and looked at the three of us. “Get your buddy out of here before I throw him in the brig.”
We hurried over and helped Johnny to his feet, his hand gingerly rubbing his jaw.
“And you, Private Russo,” Murphy continued. “You better get your facts straight before you go around accusing people. Now I don’t want to hear one more word about this. Do you understand me, soldier?”
Johnny looked at him steadily, sadness and pity in his eyes. “Yes Sir, if you say so, Sir.” The look they exchanged said they each knew the truth about what had happened here; and neither one was going to back down. Murphy was bound by the clever little conspiracy he and his little buddy had devised, while Johnny had truth, integrity and honor on his side.
“Get him out of here,” Murphy said to us with a dismissive wave of his hand, his unflinching gaze never leaving Johnny’s piercing eyes.