2 comments/ 9226 views/ 2 favorites A Heart's Tender Tribute By: Sailor1 When we got off watch that night Jake wanted to talk. He had to talk. He had had lunch with her that afternoon, and his excitement was such that he had to tell somebody. "She was distressed about something," he launched right into telling me about being with her that day, "and I hugged her lightly. I hadn't done that before, and I didn't want to scare her; and then suddenly she started to cry. She told me about how angry Bobby had been when she moved out of the other apartment. "'And then she screamed at me,' she sobbed." He paused. Her outburst has surprised him. "In between her tears her voice cracked, and I could feel her heart wrenching inside her as she sat up again and looked at me. "Then, she said, Bobby yelled at her that just because she was 'stacked' she thought all the boys would chase after her, and then that she didn't think that at all. There was a look of chagrin on her face, embarrassed, I think, that she was even telling me about what had happened. Then that sweet blush of hers flooded her countenance and she didn't know what to do with herself. "It was easy to invite her to snuggle close to me again and I wrapped her in my arms to soothe her hurt a little. "I had not had any idea that girls could be quite so vicious with each other, especially ones who were supposed to be friends. What could I say?" He just shrugged his shoulders; he wasn't really asking a question of me, I could tell. "I don't have near the experience with girls that some of the other fellows do. Of course," he added wistfully, "some of their 'experience' I figure I can do without." This was very uncommon for him, to open up like this. "As to the four girls, it appears to me that whatever friendship has been between them is now shattered and gone. How can Kathrine go back to the other girls who have spoken so hurtfully? What I mean, though, is what kind of response would be helpful at the moment? I was not at all sure." Jake was in no hurry, and chose his words carefully. "Only as I held her in my arms, and allowed myself to begin to really think of her as 'my girl' did the fog clear. I think I was quiet for a long time, and her sobs gradually eased as she relaxed with me. We have become close friends, perhaps not as close as brother and sister, but friends who can talk with each other and discuss things. I liked her the first time I saw her, Charlie. Neither of us really fit with the others... chance just sort of tossed us together." Jake had been on a liberty downtown Honolulu, had sort of fallen in with three other sailors for a while that evening on Waikiki, and the four of them had met these four girls. The others were all heavy party animals, but Jake and Katharine struck a different note together, were more inclined to normal conversation, and enjoyed ideas. Of course, her natural good looks didn't hurt anything at all, and that was a very strong draw. Jake admitted that to me right off, but his comments about her told me that he was more serious about her than I had ever seen him. She wore her hair long down her back, he added with a wistful note and a casual wave of his hand, and it fell about her pretty face in a very attractive way, he said, even when she used a ribbon to tie it back, his thoughts wandering at the recollection. It was almost as were he talking to himself, reliving his time with her. I had never seen him so wrapped around the axel over a girl. One very obvious and impressive feature about her, which I noticed later when we met, was her very statuesque figure. She was only to my shoulder high, but she was... well, 'stacked' as Bobby had said, but this night after watch Jake only mentioned that Kathrine carried a her share of 'top hamper.' That is an older metaphor used by some sailors, with reference to a full-rigged sailing ship running before a fresh breeze with all sails set, and filled by the wind. Filled so, one might say that a beautiful ship's 'top hamper' -- the wind-filled canvas -- made for an image very attractive and inspiring to a sailor. In my mind the use of the metaphor was a very respectful recognition of a lady's beauty. To judge from Jake's subtle comment, his thought was not unlike mine. I could tell by his manner, Kathrine carried her share of 'top hamper' and he appreciated her beauty; simple as that. Not too much, though. Her figure was not out of balance, but very finely tuned, and, in my judgment, she carried herself well, with grace and reserve. Some girls might have flaunted themselves for the attention they could surely garner. Kathrine did not. That frustrated the other girls, he ventured in explanation, made them jealous, probably. "Whether she flaunts it or not," and I heard some distress in his normally confident voice, "her 'top hamper' is a major attraction for the fellows." Yes, I could understand that without further explanation. There was a long pause in the darkness that night as we sat on the seawall together, and I just waited for him to go on. I thought I could hear his teeth grinding together in anger at the other fellows. "The other three guys have commented," he continued slowly, "when away from the girls, that she makes their hands itch...." His nature was such that he didn't even have to complete the thought, and I knew what he meant. Normally he never let any of his frustration show outwardly, but that night I could sense in his tone his disgust at such. From the time we had been friends I knew he did not look at a girl in that way, even though he appreciated a pretty girl just as we all did. Basically, we had both talked about girls some, and so now I could detect the subtle changes in his feelings. In just a couple of dates, of which he had told me essentially nothing, this girl had somehow touched his heart and called forth something quite special. "I have found that I have to be choosy and selective; and only on our previous date had I begun to feel I could, well, exert my own personality a little. "When she told me this afternoon what Bobby had said to her, my blood heated up. I was so angry with Bobby and the other girls for their insensitivity and crudeness, and I spoke out almost before I had thought through what I was saying." He was quiet for a moment, as were he stuck somehow. "I told her that she was not 'stacked,' like that... which to me is a cheap label for a girl." Clearly, there was more, and he was trying to get it out, but had to struggle. He paused, but it was one of those pauses where only silence fits. I just listened. "She asked me what that meant, and her voice was innocent and sweet. I guess she didn't know; but she must have guessed something cheap from Bobby's tirade." And... I waited for him in silence. "I said I thought she carried more 'top hamper' than some girls, and that she did it very nicely." He was wandering now as he remembered. He had explained that to her and she had thanked him for telling her about that. "Her smile, Charlie... her sweet, simple smile is just heavenly!" Well, so.... "I spoke without thinking, and told her she had the most beautiful... figure I had ever seen. I had been running on open and caught myself." He stopped, looking out over the dark water past the battleships moored right in front of us to the lights in the shipyard across the harbor, then his head drooped and he shook it like a condemned man, and his voice cascaded into the depths as if he were reliving the experience. 'Running on open' is radioman jargon for the teletype printing out random characters during an idle period; essentially, 'mouth connected while brain disengaged.' "What will she think of me now? How dumb can a guy be, really! The words were out, and she could easily finish the sentence without any problem. She stirred in my arms and began to sit up next to me carefully, and I closed my eyes wishing myself into some crack in the earth to be swallowed up forever. "I opened my eyes and found her looking into my face intently... your know how a girl looks sometimes, and you haven't got a chance of guessing what they're thinking. Then, with the wheels still turning in that pretty head of hers, do you know what she said to me? "'Thank you,' she said to me, 'Thank you for the compliment, Jake. That's the nicest thing any fellow has ever said to me.'" He turned then to me in the dim light, as were he asking me whether such a girl could be real. That's how he related the story to me, in the first person like that. We were sitting together in the cool of the night on the seawall behind our barracks, with the Pacific Fleet's battleships right in front of us. We had just been relieved off watch, it was after midnight, and he was all wound up and needed to talk. We knew each other well enough that we could listen to each other without comment. On this occasion he was just overwhelmed at his experience over the last week or two, and especially that afternoon with Kathrine. I don't think he had mentioned her to me by name more than two or three times, though I knew he had made the acquaintance of somebody that meant something very special to him. Now, finally, I was getting the low down, though I knew him well enough to know that the intimate details would not be forthcoming. That was not Jake. He was particularly touched by her sweetness. She had thanked him for his compliment, and I could hear it in his tone as we talked that night that just the memory of their intimate conversation on the sofa that afternoon almost caused him to loose his train of thought altogether. Well, girls can do that to a fellow. I know; Caroline had done that to me, and I loved it. I'm Charlie, and I'm relating the story to you as I heard it over a period of time, from him during those first days of their acquaintance as we stood radio watches together at the Naval Air Station Ford Island in Pearl Harbor, and on some occasions from her, only much later. I'll try to fill in some details and make it interesting. -- -- The few days just before that had been very difficult for her, and that in the light of the fact that her entire life had been hardship and anxiety. This was not so uncommon in that day. Growing up is a challenge, doing it in a rural setting during the Depression years was perhaps as rough a road as there is. She was borne Kathrine Anne, fourth and youngest child to a family struggling to succeed on their San Joaquin Valley farmland through an extended period of economic trials that seemed endless and unrelenting. Homemaking and farm chores were demanding, but she could see the need for much cooperative effort and worked willingly and with increasing skill and initiative. Her father and her older brothers were protective, especially as she approached womanhood. She felt the changes in her own being through her high school years, and the sometimes penetrating stares of older boys, the seasonal farm workers, and even her brothers, though their protection sheltered her from much of the world around her. Her mother might have been a greater support to her, but her attitude seemed at odds and unavailable. In fact, slender and even skinny in her figure, her mother was probably reeling inside herself at her husband's reproach at her deficiencies. Her daughter's blossoming in her junior year opened the distance between her and her daughter. I am guessing here, since Kathrine was never really able to speak of it to me, and Jake's comments were very brief. Envy, questions that have no answer, recriminations with no resolutions meant that Kathrine was left alone much of the time on a farm remote from other social contacts that might have assisted her in accommodating the challenges of adolescence and approaching adulthood. Her last two years of school did bring some meaningful changes. Her father brought his daughter into the office to keep better tabs on the finances and the shipping movements. This introduced her to bookkeeping and numbers, and strengthened her organizational skills, but also exposed her to truckers ever alert for an easy liaison and the crudeness of their comments. She realized that her breasts had developed to be larger than were those of many other girls, and that this brought on much attention from men, yet the lack of feminine contact left her with a very unbalanced and insecure sense of self. She was by nature shy and reserved, made sure her dress was modest, neat, and clean, kept her glorious chestnut hair long, brushed out, and tied with one of her small collection of bright ribbons. These were, I think, simple standards of grooming she set for herself. They added to her natural beauty and, on their own merit, especially against the contrast of the itinerant laborers all around, including women, many Mexicans, and the sweat and dirt and even squalor of the farm in the summer's heat, made her stand out like a beacon of desirability. She was too innocent and naïve, I think, to have recognized her situation for what it was. She felt her father's protective influence when he set her up in the office with a Dutch door, over which all the paperwork passed, her youngest brother being responsible for tallies and counts of the outgoing shipments just outside. This put a barrier and a little distance between her and the many loose hands prone to grope and grasp. Her sense of well being was shattered, however, when she deduced from her own observations that her father and older brothers were often involved with 'meetings' with some of the work force, most often a single Mexican girl about her own age. Something broke inside her at the realization of what was happening, and in her mind there was no setting it aright and no one to whom she could turn. The world beyond not only beckoned, it was now for her also a refuge from a home by then no longer a haven. She graduated from high school in the spring of 1941, very near the top of her class, and having done well in English. She answered a newspaper add for dining room and housekeeping staff for the Matson Lines vessels sailing between the west coast and the Hawaiian Islands, and was thrilled when they accepted her. In June she sailed from San Francisco for Honolulu, and the sharp and dramatic break with her past was as much revelation as it was refuge. Among the several younger staff aboard were three other girls in a very similar situation. All were from farms in the Valley, looking for something better. Bobby had sailed once before, and could kind of clue the others in to how things went. Tony's hair was short and coal black, and she was a bubbly, outgoing girl, pleasant and fun. Brenda's hair was almost fire engine red, and from the first, she went by the nickname 'Red.' She was talkative, clever, and a little mouthy for Kathrine's taste, but that was fine. Not everyone was the same, she reasoned. They bunked in a stateroom for four, and after a second day at sea, hearing the constant talk of all kinds of new things swimming through her head, Kathrine had a moment to herself in the bathroom after her shower. Bobby had left her dressmakers tape measure hanging over the clothes hook. The other girls' conversation about boys and sex and measurements and figures and such stopped her cold. She had never talked so openly about such things, nor had the opportunity to do such a thing, but now found herself checking her own body carefully. Long hours of farm work, lots of walking, and a diet skimpy on sugars and fats left her with a very trim and well toned figure, but she was surprised at herself: her breasts -- she already knew she was fuller than were the other girls. She was surprised at how much fuller. Was she too big; too big to be pretty? She sensed that height played into the equation, and she was as tall as Bobby was at 5-8. Tony and Red were several inches shorter, or more. But what did that mean? The question bothered her deeply. Was she too big to be pretty? Intuitively she felt the other girls would be no help, and there was no one else she felt she could ask. That in the off hours and the rest times the male crew members flocked to her seemed to tell her nothing. Their attention was like the men she had experienced on the farm; banter, small talk, crude jests, and casual suggestions that left her unmoved and aloof. She had learned that they offered her nothing of enduring value, and by instinct she knew to brush them away like flies. Kathrine's particular blessing... well, from a man's point of view it is a blessing, but she didn't know what to do with it... was that she had the physical attributes, the very nicely developed attributes of a young girl with extraordinary charm, and the looks of an innocent little pixie fresh from some story book. She was really quite a looker. Her gray-green eyes were bright and playful, but full of sweetness and sincerity. Her facial features were classic and youthful, and complemented her flashing eyes and imp-like exuberance for life. Her hair was a light chestnut, as I said, and the sunshine in Hawaii soon brought out rich streaks of reddish blonde. She wore it long, and down almost all the time, and it often fell across her face and needed her to whisk it away. Her efforts to control it that way were an unconscious study in delightful and uninhibited femininity. Almost always it splashed down onto her shoulders in cascading disarray. Some might have thought it artless and untended; for an appreciative gentleman, it was, in a rustic and free-spirited way, breathtakingly beautiful. That was Jake's assessment, and he acknowledged to me by his attitude that she had him in her spell. She had always dressed very conservatively. Jake told me this later as I got to know them better. She had been very concerned that she was not pretty, that -- he explained carefully -- her breasts were too big to let her be really attractive to a man. She had always dressed comfortably and without much attention to style or shape. That changed gradually after they became close, and she gained more confidence in herself. In relating her earlier experiences to me, Kathrine spoke well of her family, and her older brothers, but there was a piece she seemed always to overlook, consciously or otherwise. Something hindered her having a more confident feeling about herself. She was very private with me, but Jake mentioned once when we spoke of her, that she had told him about her mother's aloofness and the Mexican girl, and these things had created a barrier for her. In their own way, I thought, they also must have contributed a particular strength. You had to get to know her a little and watch her. Although she had the body and the face of a temptress, and the personality of a playful seductress, she was always reserved, gracious, poised, and respectful, never cheap or sexually suggestive. She was quite a remarkable girl. Also, she had both the integrity of person to seek for what she wanted, as well as the innate savvy and intuition not to be led astray by cheap flattery from any fellow who tried to cajole her. Polite and friendly, she could nevertheless dismiss a fellow's come on with a sweep of her hand, and he knew it was over. At a dinner party at their apartment just a week after we three couples were married in October, I had the chance to ask her directly, in a brief private moment, what it was she saw in Jake that attracted her. We were good friends by then and she teased me often about my questions to everybody, as were I, she taunted playfully, a writer gathering material for a novel, and giggled. Still, very seriously, she bounced right back with her answer. He was a man, a gentleman, she said, and her simple, forthright declaration spoke a great deal about her as a lady. He was very intelligent and interesting, she added, and treated her as if she were too, and as a worthy companion. Left unspoken, but clearly obvious from her manner, was that she had found no other man who had ever been up to those standards, not even close. As cute as she was, she was still human and had her faults, but she knew her own mind and heart. A Heart's Tender Tribute I had known Jake from the day he reported in to the squadron out on Ford Island back in January 1940. He was a singular kind of guy. Friendly and open, he could chat about most anything and was very knowledgeable, yet he did not talk about shallow or pointless things. His mind was always working, and it showed, both socially and on the job. All the chiefs thought him to be one of their very best radiomen. He got many of the plum assignments, and not because he was a goody-two-shoes, but because he was alert, professional, learned quickly, and worked hard. In my mind, they were two peas in a pod, Jake and his Kit, meant just for each other. Let me tell you a few of their experiences together. -- -- "Why do you stay with them?" he asked her gently. They had met for only the second time, a group rendezvous on Waikiki. The two of them had left the smoke filled Waikiki lounge where they had been sitting with the others after meeting that Friday evening. It was much quieter on the verandah in the balmy evening air under the palm trees. The girls had been in Hawaii but a few days. He had invited her for a walk outside, and now they sat together at the little table with their fruit juice, neither sure what to say to the other. "You're not happy with them... and you're not at all like them." It seemed very obvious to him that she was much different from the other three. "Why do you stay?" His questions seemed very pointed, she thought, yet not unkind. In fact, she had been wondering herself, though she could not have phrased it quite so directly. His question made her a little uneasy mostly because she liked him, and in the group's association, it was only his conversation that interested her at all. The other three sailors were boisterous and colorful, but rather loud and arrogant, and even a little crude... well, in her evaluation, a lot crude. She knew, for instance, from Red's comments, that Dean very much wanted to "get into her pants," as she had heard her say, and was thinking that would be really fun and that she might let him. Kathrine didn't understand a girl being so offhand about something that to her was special and much more private. Why did she stay with them? It was a question she had been asking herself. "Money, I guess," she responded, trying to be casual. "We all chip in to make the rent less; and then I don't really know anybody else on the island." That was about as much sense as she could make of her own indecision. At that point things were still all very new, and this was only the second time the four of them had met up with the four sailors from Pearl Harbor. The experience of simply striking off on her own, breaking with her past, was not unknown, but she was still rebuilding her own self confidence after the major break away from her family just weeks before, and now from her job as well. Finding her way was still very much a pioneering effort and leaving the three other girls seemed not very practical. Jake Nielsen was, in relation to the other three fellows, not unlike Kathrine. He did not feel he belonged with the other three, who were both in their career path in the navy as well as in their personal inclinations very much different. They were all shipboard sailors; Zeke Matthews was a real heller on liberty and a very savvy boatswains mate on his destroyer; Willie 'Guns' Martin, a hard drinking, sleek-talking, self-styled ladies man, was a gunners mate on a battleship, then, lastly, Dean 'Screws' Hubbard was a machinist mate, a real whiz mechanically and a diesel engine specialist on another battlewagon. In striking contrast, Jake was a radioman with an aircrew specialist rating in the navy's big patrol flying boats. Most striking to Kathrine, and she picked this out easily, though the four girls had little more that a couple hours association with the four sailors, was that he spoke like a rational human being, discussed things with her, listened to her responses and ideas. He had a year's university work behind him and wanted more, and he was the only one of the four that did not make her feel a little uneasy. He was something like her one older brother, kind and gentle, and very strong. The hurtful image of the Mexican girl kept getting in the way, and she didn't know how to deal with that. Just the same, Jake Nielsen was a friendly personality and she kind of liked him, a little. And now she wasn't at all sure where the conversation would take them. "Sure, money is part of it. Apartments are expensive." He was thinking to himself of options for her that might be helpful. He knew Ken Waterman's girl had an apartment in Pearl City and was looking for another girl to share it with her for just that reason. He better ask Ken about that before saying anything to her. He'd met Kelani a couple of times, and the idea seemed practical to him. "There are other possibilities out there, though." When it occurred to him that she might understand that comment as suggestive, he was afraid to look up at her. What could he say now? Finally, in desperation he added another comment, "There are some people at the air station that are up on such things. I'll check and let you know." That sounded inoffensive enough, he hoped, and smiled at her. She wasn't sure what to say at first, and then just settled on "OK." That sounded neutral enough not to get her into hot water. "Air station?" The fellows used so many terms and words that were new to her, it felt almost as if they somehow spoke a different language. In the calmer evening quiet on the verandah she ventured to ask, almost without thinking, about what he meant. He looked up at her, hearing not just her question but also her simple inquiry into a world foreign to her. Without being able to judge it fully, he thought she was unwinding a little with him. "The naval air station on Ford Island is where the Fleet's aircraft base, not just the planes from the carriers, the aircraft carriers when they're in port, but also the big flying boats. I am assigned to a patrol squadron and used to fly as a radioman in the crew, but now I am rotating into a slot at the radio station ashore for a month or so. The other guys are in the ships in the harbor. They go to sea but don't fly... I fly sometimes but don't go to sea." He chuckled at the arbitrariness of it. "Same navy." He thought her immeasurably beautiful in the brief twilight at sunset and the lighted tiki torches around the verandah. Her facial features were delicate and expressive, her eyes full of character, and her long hair flowing down over her shoulders. He could sense that she held herself in a very tight control, and in the fast-paced banter with the others around the table earlier she had seemed a little lost. She hadn't spoken but a couple of words of greeting. They both felt like they were only on the shirttails of the others. Now, very much on a whim this evening, Jake had invited her to go for a walk with him, away from the others. The laughter and merriment in the dark, smoky lounge had receded as he drew her across the verandah to the little table. He had noticed that she had been hesitant to order at first, but when he ordered a guava juice on ice, she had said she would like one of those too. It pleased her that he didn't drink liquor, and she had noticed. In her mind, remembering the farm hands, liquor seemed always to lead to dangerous situations. Their casual talk to get acquainted drew them onward, and they left their empty glasses on the table. She was a little hesitant as he led her down the path between the palms, along the beach for a stretch, and out onto the little pier for the boats in the marina. He just walked, not hurried and not evidently going anywhere, she didn't think, but just walking. They couldn't go very far, she could see that it was not a long pier. She was about to question him when he suggested they sit for a moment on the little bench at the end of the pier. His voice was quiet and not demanding. She felt uneasy, unsure of herself, but not threatened at all, and even a little excited at the solitude and pleasant evening. Gingerly she sat down on the edge of the bench, a little anxious, wondering. "I come out here sometimes to just watch the sunset. It's quite impressive." The sun had been down for several minutes and the last bright streaks of vivid color in the sky were fading, and he felt his comment would sound a little phony. "I've never brought a girl out here with me." How lame, he chastised himself. She thought his statement sounded sweet and kind, and made her feel special. She had no idea what to do, nor what he might expect of her now. She waited to see, on the edge of the bench, almost holding her breath, still anxious, and with her hands folded in her lap. "I would like it," he started out slowly, "if we could get together without the others... just do something together on our own." He was trying to be more open with her, but words came slowly and he was not sure himself what he wanted. He liked her, liked her very much, but what could he do now? She was acting like a skittish colt ready to bolt at the slightest provocation, he could feel it. "Well, for one, at the Rialto in Pearl City," oh, yes, he thought to himself, a splendid idea, "they're playing Gone with the Wind, the hit movie. Have you seen it? Everyone says it's great," turning to her in his excitement. "Have you?" Kathrine had been to the movie show just five times in her entire life. Three times on the ship with the girls, and twice back home, once with her brothers and once with her school class... never, she realized suddenly, alone with a man. In a flash she saw it clearly. Jake was neither one of her brothers nor one of the boys back in school. He was a man, several years older than she was, and, she was quite sure, very much more experienced in things. The sight of that Mexican girl coming out of the office that day flashed through her mind again. Why? Was she afraid of him? Is that what he wanted too? Could she trust him? She wasn't sure. But, no, she hadn't seen the movie and, when he looked at her in the soft light, she nodded her head and smiled at him. She didn't know why he should be so quiet, because he sat there without a word for what seemed to her like the longest time. "The number 14 bus stops in front of the library near your place. We could meet there and take the 14 to Pearl City. It stops just a block from the theater. "Also, there is a very nice little Chinese restaurant near there where I go by myself sometimes for a nice dinner in a quiet place. Do you like Chinese food, Kathrine? She felt herself on very thin ice, afraid both to go forward and then, afraid not to. She'd never had Chinese food before, though she knew they had served it one evening on the ship. She had been timid and there had been so many new things that she had just avoided it for the refuge of their room. Now what should she do? "And afterward I'll bring you back home again. Would that be OK?" His asking her so gently helped her a great deal. She couldn't seem to find her voice at all. She had wanted to see that movie since forever, and the chance to be together like that now began to be something exciting and delightful to her. And how would Chinese food taste? "That would be wonderful, Jake. Thank you very much." Kathrine was by inclination a polite girl and as the excitement took over her hesitation dissolved. "What about Friday evening? Meet me at 5 o'clock?" His voice was very much lightened by her acceptance. She too felt the easing of the tension, and therewith, her curiosity began to rise. "Chinese food? I've never had Chinese food, Jake. Tell me something, please," in her excitement she forgot to be shy, "about what I should expect." Done! She had said 'yes,' he thought to himself. He leaned against the back of the bench and sighed, a great sigh of satisfaction that he had been able to arrange such a date with this beautiful girl. Why that should be so very difficult troubled him a little. He was not usually so completely tongue-tied. At her asking so sweetly, he was thinking about Chinese food now, trying to find something suave and intelligent to say to her. He managed a couple of details about vegetables and spicy sauces and noodles, and she smiled at him in response. Her smile made his day. He wasn't pushy or arrogant, and that helped her feel at ease. His words about the food made it sound exotic and delicious. She did not realize that his reserve with her softened her trepidation. With that simple step it seemed as if the dam burst. Conversation hindered by anxiety was deregulated, and the next hour passed quickly as they exchanged a hodgepodge of introductory fragments about first one then the other... home, work, school, interests, family, friends, hobbies, and whatever. Then, and almost without warning, the chatter concluded and silence reigned again. He thought about the evening and what all had transpired, and realized that earlier they had left the others before they themselves had ordered dinner and eaten. "Kathrine," he turned to her, concerned, "we didn't really have dinner before. Are you hungry?" Virtually as he spoke she felt the emptiness in her tummy and, relaxed and pleased to be with him now, nodded her head innocently and smiled at him. "My dear young lady," his heart alight at her smile, he tried to make his tone playfully formal, "would you join me for a pleasant seafood dinner on the verandah?" He presumed that he would get another sweet smile and nod. He was correct, to his great pleasure. Their course decided, he stood and offered his hand to help her rise, then his arm for hers. The resulting bodily contact was like an earthquake. She rose, stepped to his side, and slipped her arm through his, and her motion swept the bare mass of his muscled right bicep past her left breast. The bolt of electricity shocked both of them. She could not help but gasp and she knew he noticed. It seemed to her as were her knees about to buckle beneath her. Jake slipped his right arm about her waist and held her to him, feeling his own body reacting to the intensity of their physical contact. She felt herself rendered almost senseless by the jolt, but warmed and secure with his arm about her. She laid her head on his shoulder to hide from him her deep blush, and for the first time in her life Katharine felt the sensory thrill of a man's thoughtful and gently supportive embrace. He was so very conscious of his own heart pounding in his chest at the thrill of holding her he could not have had more than cursory awareness of her reaction to him. After a few moments, wanting not to embarrass her in the least, he kissed her on the top of her head lightly, enjoying the delicate fragrance of her hair, stroked her shoulder appreciatively, and then turned them once again toward dinner. Jake walked slowly, casually, as if he had not a care in the world, which for the moment he did not. That was fine with Katharine, though she did not really notice. She just hugged his arm and rested her head on his shoulder, oblivious to all else. Shyness and reserve overcome, she basked in the afterglow of the moment and the company of the man who treated her so nicely. It did not bother her at all that he did not seem to want to go back to the others. When he led her down the beach in the other direction to another place along the beachfront, an outside table by a tiki torch, she thought it very romantic and was pleased with their continuing chat. He suggested grilled Mahi Mahi, and she agreed, trusting his judgment, though she had no idea whatever as to what he had ordered for them. She found the fish delectable and exotic, thanked him sweetly for his choice, and then they found they could laugh together, enjoying and relaxing in each other's company. She thought his silly jokes clever, and listened to his deep voice. He told her he liked her beautiful hair, long and glistening in the ribbon she wore, and that she had the most expressive and pretty eyes he had ever seen. These polite and positive exchanges added substantially to her quite limited fund of encouraging experience with men, and his company delighted her. It was late when he said good night to her at her door. The evening had been more fun, she thought to herself, than any before, ever. On the sofa, one of the other girls was deeply involved with one of the fellows. It was Red maybe, she thought, and she left the light off and disappeared quickly into the bedroom she shared with Tony. She thought again of the first question he had asked her that evening, felt the tingle in her entire being at his invitation to go with him to the movie, and then welcomed the slumber that came after a time. -- -- So, that's the background and the lead up to the point where I started with Kathrine's crying out her hurt in his arms. They had enjoyed their date, the movie and the dinner went very well, and some two weeks had passed and a lot of changes had been made. Caroline and I, together with Ken and Kelani and Jake and Katharine, had enjoyed a date together and another movie and our association seemed destined for good things. The three girls struck up a friendship with their very first words. Kelani asked Kathrine to move in with her, and within days Kathrine had even found a new job at the Pearl City branch library working the evening shift five days a week. Jake and I both had the evening watch, and, delighted with her new place, Kathrine had invited him over for lunch. For her to invite him to her new apartment was a significant step for her. His company comforted and calmed her, even as it excited her. He was kind and easy going, always a gentleman, and she enjoyed their talks. She was beginning to sense deep inside that she was very lonely and even a little frightened at being so very much on her own in the world. His way with her was a constant reassurance, and she felt strengthened by his companionship. When he came he brought a fresh pineapple and a quart of guava juice. Wonderful, she thought. Then he worked with her in the little kitchenette on lunch, showing her how the Hawaiians cut up a pineapple, and even then helping clean up. He presented her with the image of a man altogether outside her experience, and one that stirred up little fires of excitement deep inside her that were new and thrilling, and, she thought, just a little scary. It was after lunch that they sat on the sofa and she began to tell him about the argument with the other girls when she left... and then suddenly the hurt overwhelmed her and she broke down in tears. That surprised her probably as much as it did him; surprised her that they came at all and that she would feel so safe in his arms. And she did feel safe with him. His comment about her was a surprise as well, and the distinction he saw in the use of words set him apart from the others... all the others, all the other men and boys in her experience. He had been very sweet in his expression, and when she thanked him, she wasn't sure what else she could say. It felt nice that he would just pull her down again into his arms. Holding her, he could not help the irresistible urge to kiss her. So, wanting to be a gentleman, he asked her. Since no boy had ever kissed her, and only if she tried hard could she remember her father's casual peck on her cheek, she looked up into his grey eyes, her breathing already uncertain, and nodded shyly, thinking herself to be on the brink of something wonderful. She was. He wanted not to hurry this at all. She was, he felt, way too beautiful to hurry a kiss... their first kiss. With his finger he touched her eyebrow and lightly swept some of her long hair from her face, and she felt in his tender touch each millimeter of his progress over her cheek to her ear and then down to the nape of her neck. He seemed to pause there, and then she figured out that he was playing in her hair. A thousand sensations assaulted her emotions and she felt herself in massive sensory overload, unsure of what to do, knowing she had no idea how to return his kiss, and wanting now more than anything not to disappoint him. She waited, patiently, half terrified he would continue, half that he would not, and fighting a fear that she could not identify. A Heart's Tender Tribute His strong hand behind her head soothed her somehow, and when he gently pulled her close she felt his warm mouth on hers, tender, light, inviting, caressing... stirring the very depths of her being, and drawing her out of herself to him. She had no way of knowing the difference, but it was no boy's mouth; it was a man's mouth, powerful, provocative, plundering. The wonder of the new experience quickly swelled within her, spilling over easily to wash away all fear of him, and he emerged in her imagination as the man of her dreams to whom she could give herself totally and without the slightest reservation. The swirling, mind-boggling experience of his hot kiss forced all else from her awareness and she melted in his embrace, as submissive, compliant, and trusting as any maid could possibly be. Time for breathing seemed an unacceptable interruption to their passion, and she looked up at him, wondering as he gave her a moment to catch a breath if she had done something wrong, and why was he stopping? "Oh, Katharine," she heard his strong voice and felt it vibrating deep in his chest, "you are a very special girl. Thank you for a very special kiss." Was he going to stop now? He continued to hold her close, and being in his embrace was like heaven to her. She watched his mouth move closer to hers again and then felt the tingle inside her as he nibbled on her lip, then, as she opened to him, he claimed her lips again with a demanding pressure that catapulted her into richly romantic realms of which heretofore she had had not the faintest concept. The entire external universe slipped away to irrelevance and they explored the little world they had created between them. He had suspected from watching her that she was not just very innocent, but had very little or no experience with a man, and these were qualities that, together with her quick intellect, cheerful personality, and striking physical beauty, rated her exceedingly high on his own personal scale of values. "You are..." he paused briefly, holding her close, "a very special person to me, Katharine. In my book, a special person... a special girl, one very close to my heart, who returns my kiss with such tenderness and feeling, deserves a special name. Can I call you 'Kit?' You look and feel in my arms like that ought to be my secret name for you." He had not ever done such a thing with a girl, and felt like he was way out on a limb. He waited for her response, not at all sure what she would say, and felt himself teetering on the edge of the world as he waited. The feel of her hair as he waited for her, silky and fragrant between his fingers, was simply intoxicating. Even an innocent and inexperienced girl can, when her heart is tender and open, sense great shifts in the geometry of the world about her. Her feelings of being alone in the world were already receding as her friendship with Jake grew stronger, but this little gesture, following as it did the fervency and heat of his kisses, made it clear to her that he was drawing her into his orbit and wanted her company and companionship. Their kissing had caused a throbbing and a tingle throughout her entire body, and having him give her a pet name was the most wonderful and unexpected thing... this man, this man whom she thought so gallant and mature, that this man should be the one to notice her so was more thrill than any girl could endure. As he watched for her reaction, hoping beyond hope that she might agree to another date together, he saw the bright twinkle in her eyes, the fresh roses in her cheeks, then her sweet smile for him as she nodded her head again. He thought her beautiful smile just priceless! He felt firstly the majesty of victory over his own reticence to risk his heart in the quest for companionship, then the closely associated magnificence of the girl's acceptance of his tentative overture. Then, on the heels of that amalgam, that something had to be determined to draw them closer together; he felt feelings of desire and hope emerging from deep within him. He felt territorial; he wanted that no other fellow should be allowed to savor this sweet girl's charms. He wanted her just for himself. He had to think that over, but this girl had stepped in to fill a place in his heart that he had only vaguely sensed was vacant... had only vaguely sensed existed at all. They had consumed the better part of the afternoon, and it was time to go to work. Another bite of pineapple, and then he kissed her again at her doorway, promising to come again in a few days when his work schedule again allowed him a free day. "Thank you, Kit! You are a delight to my heart!" He left her tingling all over and her heart sailing in the clouds. He just barely caught the bus going down the hill to the boat landing; otherwise he would have had a long walk and been late to work. Once through the Naval Supply Center gate he could see the launch at the pier waiting for them. He would make it fine. That question resolved, his thoughts immediately returned to her. She was beautiful, he thought, and very shy with him, but he could feel her draw close to him even so. Without the other three, and the much more frivolous and party atmosphere all the time, she had relaxed to become an attentive companion and an interesting conversationalist. Besides that, she was beginning to show her feelings for him, he thought. She had been afraid when he first kissed her, that he could tell easily. Very soon, as he kissed her the second time, more demanding and purposeful, she had begun to make that cute little whimpering sound in her throat. That sounded so very sweet to him. Delightful! He felt a satisfied smile break across his face as he alighted from the bus and made for the launch. There were about a dozen other fellows as well, all headed for the boat out to Ford Island, all probably watch standers for the evening watch, 4 PM till midnight. Jake knew some of them, the two radiomen well, but they were from another squadron, and three others were aviation machinist mate petty officers, maintenance and repair crew probably. They were all returning from time on the beach, and their minds were still on the beach, even if their bodies were in the boat. It was only about half full and, sitting apart from the others, his mind continued to focus on her. It felt so very nice to be with her. Being together was a thrill like he had never known before. He had kissed her for the first time that afternoon. He had planned that, wanted that, worked toward that... but the actual event was a surprise and moreover, surprising in its wonder and intensity. For Kit, the afternoon in the apartment with Jake had been earthshaking. She no longer thought of herself entirely as Katharine; the idea of Jake giving her a nickname, a secret name just for her as his darling, was more thrill than her being seemed able to absorb. She was ecstatic. That was a Monday afternoon, and she too had to think now about getting ready to go to work, but not before considering when he would come again. His watch schedule, he had told her, would mean he would come again Thursday for lunch at noon. How to dress and do her hair for him seemed very important to her, and she jotted herself a couple of notes for a shopping list. All her feelings of loneliness had fled. For Jake it was not all that much different, and it was that evening that we talked... well, he talked... about her, the girl who had turned his life upside down. We were sitting on the seawall in our dungarees, the battleships right in front of us, and the lights of the shipyard across the water. He talked about her... her beauty, her sweetness, the wonder of talking with her about all kinds of things, their lunch together, and... It took him a long time to tell me that he had kissed her that afternoon, and, when he did, it was as were he describing some kind of sacred ritual. He was already in love with her. -- -- It was lunch time the following Thursday. The time before he arrived passed all too slowly, and their time together was an absolute delight. He brought two ripe mangoes for desert and, she thought, as he peeled them after lunch and cut them up into pieces, his banter and story-telling kept her in stitches. He used her big butcher knife and fed the pieces to her on the point as she imagined a pirate might do, and made her giggle. She had never tasted anything so wondrously delicious. They chatted some about things they had studied in school, and then, of course, he kissed her again, just as she hoped he would. The results were predictable. Never in her life had the clock seemed so very much like an enemy. Their afternoon had passed swiftly, if in a haze. When he decided they simply had to move on and only a few precious minutes remained, he thanked her again for lunch, their time together, and for her gift of self to him. Each word from his lips was like a love-bearing breath of acceptance in the springtime of her life, and she could not manage anything but an adoring smile of appreciation. Then he kissed her on the tip of her nose and slipped out the door to catch his bus. She leaned her back against the door after she had closed it, dreamy and lost in her highly aroused emotional state. It was wonderful to be with him, and he said he wanted her to be his girl and not go out with other guys. He found her beautiful, he had said, and her breasts were not too big. He had said so. He had said they were perfect for her figure, and that she was beautiful... she could hardly believe now that she had found the answer to her concern, and that he was so pleased with her. That was the first time she had ever felt confident that she was pretty. She was now pleased with her body and herself because he was pleased. Yes, a gift, she thought. He had called her a gift to him, and thanked her for her gift of self. She thought of him as a gift to her, and her feelings tumbled one over another as she tried to sort out all that had happened to them that afternoon. What needed no sorting or analysis was that she was supremely happy, and she knew why. Jake thought she was pretty and wanted her as his girl... and, she decided, his girl she would be! The next day, after a long wait the telephone company had installed service to their apartment. She called his office where she could leave a message for him, just as he had asked. He was so clever, she thought. Jake had worked out a simple code so she could leave her phone number for him and nobody else would recognize it as such. He added some extra numbers -- 'nulls' he called them -- and then did some 'false addition' and assured her that, since only the two of them had the 'key' no one else would ever figure out the code. He was so smart, she thought, to be able to do things like that. He told her that radiomen did that kind of stuff, worked with codes. She had no idea about such things and was impressed. Still, it caught her entirely off guard when the ring shattered the late evening's quiet just minutes after she got home. "Hello?" "Good evening, my little kitten." "Oh, Jake, thank you for calling." "Thank you, Kit, for leaving me your number. You did the encoding perfectly. How did work go for you this evening?" His complimenting her that she had encoded her phone number correctly excited her. It was a small enough thing, but she was pleased with herself that he was pleased. "Just fine," she responded to him, happy that he would call her. "I just got home a few minutes ago. I like my job, actually. It's always interesting, and getting to help people is a nice benefit." "Would you help me a little?" Help him? How could she possibly help him late in the evening when he could not be there with her? But, she felt it inside that she wanted to help him. "What can I do, Jake?" There was a long silence on the other end, and she wondered what he was thinking. "Come, Kit. Come and climb up on my lap and snuggle into my arms and purr for me." His voice sounded deep and masculine, and the memory of his fingertips on her face, her throat, his soft, warm kisses, his holding her so gently soothed away the weariness of the day. "Sweet dreams, my Kit." -- -- In October 1941 we all made some earth shattering decisions. Without any real coordination, Ken asked Kelani, Jake proposed to Kathrine, and I asked Caroline to be my wife. Jake was just back from a short deployment to Wake Island with the squadron, and I was on the slate for a jaunt down to Johnson. Nevertheless, we were as determined as were the three musketeers, and on the third Saturday of October the station chaplain married us in a triple ceremony in the Ford Island chapel. Absolutely marvelous. Besides that, two apartments in Kelani's building had become available. Caroline and I took one, Jake and Kathrine the other. We could not have been happier, and we three fellows felt ten feet tall, absolutely bulletproof, and on top of the world. None of the three of us were really ones to talk about our girls. Jake spoke more about his Kit that night on the seawall than he ever did later. It was just sort of off limits all around; something special each of us kept to ourselves. Little snippets do get out, just the same. It was months later on the sofa with Caroline, and Kathrine recalled one evening from that period. She finished at the library about 9:30 and got home about twenty minutes later. Jake (and I) had the evening radio watch until midnight, and got home about a quarter till 1. He found her asleep on the sofa, waiting for him, and she dreamed about him loving her as he let his fingers play in her curls behind her ear where she had admitted to being so very sensitive. She told us how thrilled she was that night to wake up and find him there with her, and then she blushed and wouldn't say anything more. A fool's paradise, perhaps. Well, not really. Life has to be lived one day at a time in many ways, and days of joy and togetherness accepted as they come even though the future schedule is indistinct. November was wonderful. Though we worked and worked some more, every off moment was with our girls... picnics, cook outs, beach parties, shopping and playing house in a thousand ways, enjoying each other and in love. December was tragedy of the first magnitude, and more would follow. The Japanese attack that Sunday morning was an unthinkably horrible experience. The girls were safe in the apartments, but Ken and I had duty that morning, and Ford Island was a total disaster. Over the months the three of us, Jake and Ken and I, had deployed with our squadrons to various places for patrols; Wake Island, Midway Island, sometimes down to Johnson Island. War in the Pacific brought changes all around. Ken's squadron was ordered to Australia and the Netherlands East Indies in mid-December, and right after the New Year they were gone. The squadron threw a big party before leaving, but Ken and Kelani just wanted to be with us that evening. The six of us took over the garden out back again and cooked some fresh fish and sweet potatoes on the grating over the fire, just chattering away among ourselves, and then Ken took Kelani's hand and led her away quietly. That was our goodbye to him. The telegram came just three months later. His PBY had been shot down by enemy fighter planes someplace in the East Indies, and all the crew had been lost. Fortunately the three girls were together when the messenger came... Kelani was just crushed. We cooked out again that evening in April, to try and sooth the moment for her. Kelani was just nineteen and one of the sweetest girls I had ever known. She was numb, didn't eat hardly anything, and then broke down in sobs again in the garden. Caroline and Kathrine went ahead of me, Jake picked her up and carried her to her bed, and the three girls stayed together that night to try and console her a little. The following week, two other girls moved into the fourth apartment together. They were both wives of sailors in Bombing FIVE (VB 5), the dive bomber squadron on the aircraft carrier YORKTOWN. That made for a little excitement around the place, but Kelani was recovering very slowly from her loss. She was not a superficial person by any means. In mid May, the tempo of operations on Ford Island, already at a fever pitch, somehow became even more intense. My plane made a two week deployment to augment patrols from Midway, so I was gone for a while, but back about the 29th. When I got back Jake met me on the seaplane ramp. There was a cook-out that night in the garden and the girls were all excited, and he was leaving the day after next in his PBY for Midway for long range patrol operations like mine. In addition, YORKTOWN was in port briefly for repairs, and the neighbors were invited too. It was a grand evening. The two fellows from the carrier were both back seat radiomen/gunners in dive bombers, and they had been in on the sinking of a Jap carrier in the Coral Sea battle down south, and were all full of enthusiasm. Everything seemed very upbeat and positive. The fish was great, Kelani's cooking skill made a wonderful dinner and she seemed to brighten a little. Kathrine and Caroline were each joyous and exuberant, and all the girls were beautiful beyond imagining. The festivities lasted late into the evening, but not too late. Kelani valiantly volunteered to clean up, but Kathrine and Caroline would not hear of it, knowing that to leave her alone then would be emotional disaster, so we all chipped in. Jake was leaving soon, so I told him to take his Kit and leave the rest to us, and he did. It was something to see how he did it. In the kitchen he took the dishes from her, with a napkin wiped away the little bit of sauce on the fingers of her one hand, then raised her hand to his lips and said something to her quietly... and with a soft smile she left all the rest of the entire world to follow him. That was, though we couldn't see it then, the last of the really fun times together. The Battle of Midway was fought between 3 and 6 June. A more fierce and bloody few days' battle I could not imagine. On watch in radio on Ford Island, I saw many of the reports coming through from the Marine garrison on the island and from the aircraft carrier task force at sea. The Marines on the island took a fearful beating and at sea YORKTOWN was sunk, VB 5 and several other Army, Navy, and Marine air squadrons were decimated. Torpedo EIGHT in carrier HORNET was wiped out... 15 for 15 shot down over the target. Jake's plane was one of the several PBYs that did not return from their long and very dangerous patrols scouting the enemy fleet at sea. Little consolation that our boys sank four Japanese carriers and the battle turned out a decisive victory for the United States; in our little fourplex on the hill over Pearl City the dark angel had demanded a fearful toll. For some days nobody knew anything. Our guys were scattered far and wide, and the remaining PBYs at Midway out searching the ocean for survivors. They found several, even after seven or eight days and more; but not the two fellows from Bombing FIVE, and not anyone from Jake's crew. I was not sure how to handle the information I had. I talked to Caroline one night after dinner, feeling distraught and frustrated at what I could see was coming. I pledged her to silence, even though I knew she and Kathrine were practically like sisters and told each other everything. I told her there was still hope that one of the searching PBYs might find Jake. I think she knew that my confidence level was low, but she hung on. That was my Caroline. On the evening of the 11th the news began to appear on the local commercial radio station, and that day the first of the wounded had arrived at the naval hospital. Rumors were flying as to who had survived and who had not, circulating like wildfire. All the wives and girl friends were, of course, frantic with worry. The chaplain from the station arrived about 7:30 the next evening for the two girls in VB 5 with the news of their husbands. Caroline and Kathrine went down to visit and found them in shock and emotionally too distraught for tears.