Well, then

B-29 Superfortress

 Well, then…

My father began every story with those words.  He’d lean back in the kitchen chair—where most stories were told—and tilted his John Deere cap to the side. Well, then...

Me and Sweetman were on a long run over the China Hump…you know what that is, dontcha?  Well, that is a flight over Burma and China to Japan.  We dropped bombs on towns there... Well, then. 

It took close to, oh say 24 hours to fly there and back. We'd stop over in China to unload food supplies for the hungry Chinese. Then take off to fly low over the waters, so low that we could see the white caps on the waves.  I betcha we coulda reached out to grab some sea water. 

Flew low to conserve fuel.  Plane was heavy.  Man, it was heavy with fuel tanks and artillery.  Me and Sweetman were bay gunners.  The closer we got to Japan, Japs would be buzzing around us like hornets.  Me and Sweetman would shoot at 'em, heavy guns and loud.  Now and then, we’d say, “I got one…”

Well, then.  This story is about a rule we had on the bomber.  The first one who had to pee would have to clean the latrine.  Nasty, bad job.

Ol’ Gandy had to go bad.  The rest of us were pent-up about the mission, we couldn’t have peed for nothing.  But Gundy had to go.

But the latrine?  He decided he’d open the bomb bay doors just a little and pee down them.  Worked just fine.

Then we heard the navigator Ol' Shelton say somethin’ like.  “What’s this?  Yellow sea water?”  He smacked his lips, wiped his face.  “Tastes funny.”

We never told him what it was.  Don’t think he’da like it.

Top row (rt. To lt.): Charles T. Roc, Charles H. Donald, Ronald M. Gandy, Louis E. Peck (my dad), John Sweetman

Middle Row: Capt. William O Ezell (pilot), Lt. Hump Halsey (co-pilot), Arthur M. Shelton, Merril Williams

Front: James D. Waring, Robert Quick

Well, then Dad would stand up, straighten his cap, and go out to do chores.

Some stories don’t need an end.  Others do.

Wednesday Words: Medic! Corpsman!

Source

Staff Sgt. “Buffalo” Bill Wheeler slung his army duffel over his shoulder, every inch a dignified soldier. Passing the baggage claim carousel, he stepped outdoors onto the cold cement where buses and taxis created clouds of diesel and roars of engines.

Sounds grabbed, yanking him back.  

Frenzied screams tore through the smoke.  “MEDIC!  Medic...Corpsman, over here!” Bill trudged through blood and blue shadows, searching for the sources of the screams.  

Looping around slopes and brush, he found his wounded comrades.  Gazing into the wounds, Bill realized most were almost dead.  Hang on, Private!  That’s an order, son!

Artillery explosions threw debris and billowing smoke filled the sky, sheltering them under the midnight sun.

“Hey! Staff Sgt!  Over here!  Corpsman!...”

A familiar voice pulled him back to the cold cement.  “Hey, there! Buffalo, you old man.” He hugged Staff Sgt. Bill.  “Why, you got yourself a new leg, dude!  Shiny thing, too.  And…” he looked at Buffalo’s face.  “Those scars make you look better.  Ladies like the scars, man…”

They walked on, Bill wondering if he would ever feel harmonious and safe with this new life.

These italicized and underlined words, sentence phrases are provided by Delores from Under the Porch Light.  Each Wednesday,  Delores provides six daunting words for any who wishes to participate in this writing challenge. Please visit her site by clicking on the shivering cardinals in the sidebar; you will find other writers who have taken different slants on these words!  You should be intrigued...