“And netting,” he said and then turned and hurried from the mess hall.
We were a ragtag group in all states of dress as we made a line to use the facilities outside the mess hall before returning to get some breakfast. Most of us were in our pajamas, though some had managed to change into day clothes before we’d had to run for shelter.
After breakfast, we gathered what was left of our things and made our way across the base, still strewn with odds and ends, to our new home that stood where the old one had only twenty-four hours before.
“How’d they get a new one so fast?” someone asked.
“They keep spares in the supply facility,” Paulette answered. “In case they need to expand the base.”
“Or if there’s a storm,” Tilly said.
The footlockers that had survived had been cleaned off, but were now littered with scrapes and dents along their metal bodies. New lockers had also been brought in from the supply building to replace the ones that had gone missing, and dispersed so that every woman had one.
“If only I had anything to put in it,” a woman named Joan said. She stood in a pair of too-big borrowed shoes, staring at her new locker. In the rush to leave the day before, she’d forgotten to put on shoes and every pair she’d owned had washed away.
“Whoever’s in need of clothing and shoes should head to the exchange now,” a soldier called Bucky said. “Get what you can and then we’ll put in an order for anything still needed. Until then, borrow what you can from your bunkmates.”
As several of the women hurried in the direction of the exchange building, I looked to Tilly, Paulette, and Char. Our hair and clothes were streaked with mud and our state of dress was ridiculous. But most of our things, though dirty, had survived, and we would have a roof over our heads again and beds to sleep in tonight.
“We sure were lucky,” I said.
“Apparently there’s some benefit to being last to arrive,” Paulette said, referring to the day we’d shown up on base. We’d been the last to make it, and thus relegated to the last two bunks, situated at the stuffiest and darkest end of the tent. Which meant during the storm, our belongings had been furthest from the river.
I grinned, grabbed the clean bedding off my new mattress, and began to make my bed.
5
We settled backinto our regular routines, our days long, a blur of minutes, hours, and meals as we passed one another, hurrying off to catch flights, take showers, assist in the hospital, and return to our barracks after dinner, dead on our feet and scarred from the things we’d seen but didn’t talk about.
Winter turned to spring, the weather getting even warmer as the holiday season back home showed up on the island in the form of candies and cards and small gifts to remind us what we were missing, and that we weren’t forgotten.
Thanksgiving was celebrated with a turkey dinner in the mess hall, complete with all the fixings. There was wine, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie, and some autumn inspired decorations that looked out of place among the palm trees and white sand beaches of Espiritu Santo. But the efforts were appreciated. Even if they made us long for home and our families.
Christmas came, and with it boxes from abroad sent by our loved ones.
“What am I going to do with this?” Paulette said, pulling a knitted scarf from the box in front of her.
We’d gathered in the mess hall for Christmas Eve dinner, some of us bringing our care packages with us, others leaving them to open Christmas morning. All depending on when we had to work—and our impatience levels. Paulette was due for an early shift the next day, thus her opening what she’d received while we ate.
“Ugh,” Char said. “Didn’t you tell them it’s hot? All the time?”
“Of course. But every year my mother knits everyone in the family a new scarf.”
“I think that’s sweet,” I said, reaching over to touch the soft red yarn. “And it’s very festive.”
She threw it around her neck where it stayed for less than a minute before she clawed it from her skin and dumped it unceremoniously back in the box it had come from.
“What else is in there?” Tilly asked as Paulette reached back in for another gift.
The four of us were sitting together at the far end of one of the many tables covered in red tablecloths with faux pine garlands in their centers. Tilly had brought the package she’d been sent too, despite the fact that she had the next day off.
“I’m impatient,” she’d said with a shrug.
“To thine own self be true,” Char had said with an impish grin.
Char and I had also received packages, but we liked the idea of having something to open on Christmas morning.
“What can I say,” Char said, pulling Paulette’s scarf from the box and wrapping it around her neck. “I’m a kid at heart. I have to wait until morning to see what old Saint Nick brought.”
