Frank Sinatra,” Claire said, “ Night and Day , will you, Hank?”
Ben caught Hank making a face; clearly not what he had in mind. “Sure, Claire. You got it.”
Ben liked Sinatra. In fact, he liked all the music he was finally getting to hear again these past two months. Bing Crosby, Glenn Miller, the Andrews Sisters. It had been so long since he’d heard good American music.
As soon as the song began, Claire said, “That was the last song Jim and I danced to before he shipped out.”
“Aww,” Barb said, “that’s so sweet. I love this song.”
“You love anything Sinatra sings,” Joe said.
“True,” she said. “True.”
Ben noticed Claire’s eyes when she talked about Jim. She never cried or showed any emotion. Even now, as Sinatra swooned into the chorus, she was just smiling away.
That had to mean something.
Claire looked at the clock on the wall. “I have to leave after this song, gotta clock in at 2:00.” Claire worked at Woolworth’s, just a few stores down on Beach Street, right on the corner of Magnolia. “Did you find a job yet?” she asked Ben.
“Not yet.” Ben wasn’t looking all that hard. He had plenty of ready cash. Really, enough for a lifetime. But eventually, for appearance’s sake, he’d have to get one.
“Maybe while you’re waiting, you can volunteer with the Civil Air Patrol,” Barb said. “I started back in August. It’s a lot of fun.”
“Have you ever ridden a horse?” Joe asked.
“What?” Ben said.
“Horses, you know how to ride ’em?”
Ben shook his head. “Never been on a horse. Why?”
“The Coast Guard is looking for men who can ride. I wished I’d heard about this before I joined the Army. I could have been fighting Krauts here at home instead of shipping overseas.”
“You don’t ride horses,” Barb said.
“Not anymore, but I used to all the time as a kid. We lived out near Samsula.”
“Really? I never knew that.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Joe said, reaching for her hand.
“A real man of mystery,” Hank said in a mocking tone. “So what are they doing, these guys on horses?”
“Nothing you can do anything about,” Joe said, referring to the fact that Hank was 4-F.
Hank looked down at the table, deflated.
“Joe,” Claire said.
“That wasn’t nice,” Barb added.
“What? I wasn’t putting him down.”
Ben looked at Hank’s thick glasses. They made his eyes pop out when he looked straight at you. He even had the big nose to go with the glasses, and with curly hair that piled high on his head, he looked like one of the Marx Brothers. “So what about these horses?” Ben said. “Not that I can join up, either. I’m 4-F too. Remember?”
“I forgot,” Joe said.
Ben had told them he had a heart murmur when he first met them. He needed some reason to explain why he hadn’t signed up like every other healthy, patriotic young American.
“Your problem isn’t as obvious,” Joe said. “No offense, Hank.”
“It’s all right,” Hank said.
“Well,” Joe said, “last month the Coast Guard decided to add horses to their beach patrols. You know, checking for more Nazi saboteurs coming onshore from those U-boats.”
“That was wild,” Hank said. “Four of them came in just south of Jacksonville back in June. The paper said they found guns, explosives, and a whole suitcase full of cash in the dunes.”
“Well, they won’t be sneaking any more Krauts in once this thing gets cooking,” Joe said. “Each patrol’s supposed to have horses and German shepherds, patrolling in shifts all night long. They won’t make any noise or get stuck in the sand. Krauts won’t even hear ’em coming.”
“You sure you can’t get reassigned to this?” Barb said.
“No, darlin’,” Joe said, “already tried. The Army recruiter said what’s done is done.”
She formed her lips into a pout. Joe leaned over and kissed her.
“Well, Ben, I wasn’t talking about joining the Coast
Ben caught Hank making a face; clearly not what he had in mind. “Sure, Claire. You got it.”
Ben liked Sinatra. In fact, he liked all the music he was finally getting to hear again these past two months. Bing Crosby, Glenn Miller, the Andrews Sisters. It had been so long since he’d heard good American music.
As soon as the song began, Claire said, “That was the last song Jim and I danced to before he shipped out.”
“Aww,” Barb said, “that’s so sweet. I love this song.”
“You love anything Sinatra sings,” Joe said.
“True,” she said. “True.”
Ben noticed Claire’s eyes when she talked about Jim. She never cried or showed any emotion. Even now, as Sinatra swooned into the chorus, she was just smiling away.
That had to mean something.
Claire looked at the clock on the wall. “I have to leave after this song, gotta clock in at 2:00.” Claire worked at Woolworth’s, just a few stores down on Beach Street, right on the corner of Magnolia. “Did you find a job yet?” she asked Ben.
“Not yet.” Ben wasn’t looking all that hard. He had plenty of ready cash. Really, enough for a lifetime. But eventually, for appearance’s sake, he’d have to get one.
“Maybe while you’re waiting, you can volunteer with the Civil Air Patrol,” Barb said. “I started back in August. It’s a lot of fun.”
“Have you ever ridden a horse?” Joe asked.
“What?” Ben said.
“Horses, you know how to ride ’em?”
Ben shook his head. “Never been on a horse. Why?”
“The Coast Guard is looking for men who can ride. I wished I’d heard about this before I joined the Army. I could have been fighting Krauts here at home instead of shipping overseas.”
“You don’t ride horses,” Barb said.
“Not anymore, but I used to all the time as a kid. We lived out near Samsula.”
“Really? I never knew that.”
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Joe said, reaching for her hand.
“A real man of mystery,” Hank said in a mocking tone. “So what are they doing, these guys on horses?”
“Nothing you can do anything about,” Joe said, referring to the fact that Hank was 4-F.
Hank looked down at the table, deflated.
“Joe,” Claire said.
“That wasn’t nice,” Barb added.
“What? I wasn’t putting him down.”
Ben looked at Hank’s thick glasses. They made his eyes pop out when he looked straight at you. He even had the big nose to go with the glasses, and with curly hair that piled high on his head, he looked like one of the Marx Brothers. “So what about these horses?” Ben said. “Not that I can join up, either. I’m 4-F too. Remember?”
“I forgot,” Joe said.
Ben had told them he had a heart murmur when he first met them. He needed some reason to explain why he hadn’t signed up like every other healthy, patriotic young American.
“Your problem isn’t as obvious,” Joe said. “No offense, Hank.”
“It’s all right,” Hank said.
“Well,” Joe said, “last month the Coast Guard decided to add horses to their beach patrols. You know, checking for more Nazi saboteurs coming onshore from those U-boats.”
“That was wild,” Hank said. “Four of them came in just south of Jacksonville back in June. The paper said they found guns, explosives, and a whole suitcase full of cash in the dunes.”
“Well, they won’t be sneaking any more Krauts in once this thing gets cooking,” Joe said. “Each patrol’s supposed to have horses and German shepherds, patrolling in shifts all night long. They won’t make any noise or get stuck in the sand. Krauts won’t even hear ’em coming.”
“You sure you can’t get reassigned to this?” Barb said.
“No, darlin’,” Joe said, “already tried. The Army recruiter said what’s done is done.”
She formed her lips into a pout. Joe leaned over and kissed her.
“Well, Ben, I wasn’t talking about joining the Coast
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