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REVIEW:
Nineteen-year old Jason Riley has many different passions in his life: sex, surfing, travel, drugs and alcohol, but not necessarily in that order. A big swell, for instance, would move surfing to the number-one spot. What you won’t find on Jason’s radar screen is education, the Bible, or patriotism, but that is all about to bloody change. We are not talking about English swearword here, but the very real blood of Jason Riley.
After traveling around the world for a year surfing, Jason thinks it’s time to get serious about his education, or as serious as he can get. That means going to “partying” Waterbury Community College, near one of California’s prime surf spots. To make things even better, his grandparents live nearby, offering free room and board. What more can he ask for? Being almost killed within 24 hours does put a damper on it, for you see Jason is on the radar of the Keeper of Secrets. If a World War is needed to change Jason, so be it.
Preface
I watched, like so many others, the jets fly into the World Trade Center; I felt this was our Pearl Harbor, our wake up call.
Those that responded to Pearl Harbor (Tom Brokaw rightfully called them The Greatest Generation) are fading and a couple of generations have passed. For the most part only their lessons remain, for those who are willing to learn. Then I wondered what would this generation be called? Were we going to pull another Vietnam, or fight, both military and civilian united in a common cause. As I thought of the situation this story evolved, the comparison of two generations, our current youth and those that went off to World War II.
Many think our strength is in wealth and technology, but I think it’s our character, our will and what we look to for our strength that are important. This story, among other things, deals with the main character, Jason Riley, and his relationship with God.
The reader is reminded that this is a work of fiction and I, like any human, should not and do not assume how the Almighty would or would not act, except via His word. So the reader is left, so to speak, to read between the lines of what is truth and what is fiction. There is a lot of both to challenge the reader.
For God and Country, both that I love, enjoy the read.
Gerald “Jerry” Dow
Introduction
Silver shimmered from the midday sun against the bomber, catching Major Ramsey’s eye before its familiar scream rumbled in his chest. His steps shifted weight from hip to hip, and paced in aimless patterns until the control tower finished with landing instructions. He picked up the mike from the jeep seat, and brushed its ribbed surface against his dry lips. “Golden Eagle Two welcome to France.”
“Roger that, we will follow your lead. Out.”
With the screech of wheels, debris swirled and scattered in a whirlwind that followed the four massive engines. Off the starboard wing of the plane, a jeep raced along side. At the end of the runway Major Ramsey led the B-17 away from the construction that crowded the base. When the scream of the engine had silenced, the belly hatch swung open and Colonel John Riley dropped to the hardstand, followed by three of his crewmembers.
Major Ramsey saluted and then extended his hand. “Good to see you, old friend, everything is set.”
Colonel Riley returned the salute and the two men embraced. “Good to see you, Joe. I never thought we would make it though this war alive.”
“We almost didn’t John, but you and the 8th Air Force still have Japan to deal with.”
“There will be no Japan or Japanese invasion.”
“You seem sure, John, just like Jason was about Normandy.”
Just hearing the name stopped the Colonel for a few shallow breaths. “I suggest that name be left unmentioned.”
Major Ramsey took the overnight bag from the Colonel and wrapped his arm around Riley as they walked toward the Jeep. “You’re right, Jason is the last person we need to bring up. God, it’s good to see you.”
“You too, Joe. You too.”
When they reached the jeep the Colonel took the overnight bag back and threw it on the front floorboard. “Joe, let me introduce my crew. This is Lt. Bob Carmichael, my navigator and Captain Jim Frank, second seat. Crew Chief Eugene Johnston. Gentlemen, this is Major Joe Ramsey. Joe and I were in the old 572nd.”
As they shook hands, Lt. Carmichael piped up, “We heard rumors about the last 572nd mission. What about it Major?”
The Colonel shot the Major a wicked stare and changed the subject. “What’s all the activity about, Joe?”
“Getting ready to turn the base over to the French. We figure we’ll have our POW’s for a couple more weeks before the poor devils head home, with the war over and all.”
“Poor devils?”
“Not much left of Germany. That’s what I’ve been doing for the Brass, evaluation reports on our effectiveness. In all, we did a good job.”
“Yeah, a good job.”
The jeep rolled toward the hanger that served as the terminal. Trivial conversations murmured below the hum of the Jeep, but the Colonel remained lost in the silence of other thoughts. When they arrived, the Major handed the Colonel two maps, one was a road map and the other was hand drawn. “That’s where you can find the crew.”
The Colonel, looking down at the hand drawn map of the cemetery and turned away, embarrassed by his tears. He moved over to the driver’s seat. “As always Joe, you have gone the extra mile.”
“Pay my respects to the crew. I’ll keep these three in tow while you’re gone.”
***************
The visit to the crew at Normandy was a quick one, but the dead never complained, nor would they ever reveal the true purpose of the Colonel’s trip. A few miles away the Colonel glanced around his circumference before lowering the binoculars in satisfaction. With a tug of the wrist, the jagged rock that hid a package eased out of the field wall. Unwrapping the torn section of the rubber poncho, he found the forty-five automatic and the cigar box, both in good condition. He automatically glanced at his hands to see if they were covered with blood, but the blood was now dry, while the memories of that night, nearly a year ago, were still fresh.
Fifteen minutes later, he pulled off the road and opened the road map, spreading it over the steering column and his legs, checking as if he was searching for directions if anyone was looking. Reaching into the bag on the passenger seat, he removed the cigar box and the electrical tape. After reading the note inside for the last time, the Colonel sealed the box with trembling hands. A vow overcame the fright in his heart. Only the owner would open its sealed secret.
***************
Colonel Riley lifted his overnight bag out of the back of the jeep as he gave the thumbs up to Captain Frank. He turned to Major Ramsey. “Thanks, Joe, for everything and pass that on to the General. I would like to stay and visit, but I was hard-pressed even to get these few hours with Group packing up to ship Stateside.”
“Hope it went well, John,” Joe replied.
As the engine fought to come to life Riley yelled, “I did get lost,” nodding in assurance to himself more than Joe, effectively covering the bases if the jeep was spotted where it should not have been.
As the engine screamed to life, Joe shouted back, “Well, you never did get lost when it counted!”
Riley shouted back, “Again, thanks Joe!”
Ramsey held his cap down. “Glad I could help! Strange, I miss flying that bucket of bolts!”
Riley turned. “What?”
Ramsey waved Riley away. “Have a good flight!”
Riley gave a casual salute. “Roger that, Joe!”
Major Ramsey watched the bomber lift off the runway and bank with a gentle tilt West towards the Channel, back to England.
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