6
No infringement on the rights of the owners of "Combat!" is intended. This story is for the enjoyment of "Combat!" fans only, not for any monetary profit by the author.
Thanks to JML for proofreading and to Susan Rodriguez for beta reading.
The End of a Chapter
by: Queen's Bishop
"Peach, definitely, peach," said Doc.
Billy laughed. "You're crazy, Doc. Give me an old fashioned apple pie any day…warm, with a scoop of vanilla ice cream." He licked his lips. "How 'bout you, Littlejohn?"
"Elderberry," the big man stated emphatically.
"Elder berry?…" Kirby said it like it was two words, which caused the sergeant to smile ever so slightly as he listened to the banter. "Who ever heard of an elder berry pie? Who ever heard of an elder berry? …What is it, a berry they grow at the old folks home?" the BAR man said sarcastically.
"No, they're these little purple berries that grow on big bushes. It takes about a million of them to make a pie." Littlejohn responded somberly.
He was so serious that Kirby didn't know whether to believe him or not. "Sarge, what do you think?"
Like the rest of the squad, Saunders was stretched out in the shade. He had his hands clasped behind his head and his helmet tilted down over his eyes. He had been quietly listening to the discussion about which kind of pie was the best for the last half hour. He sighed. "About what, Kirby? Elderberries or pies in general."
"Aw, Sarge, the big moose is makin' that elder berry thing up. There ain't no such thing."
"Sure there is, Kirby. They're these little purple berries that grow on big bushes an' it takes about a million of 'em to make a pie." He paused, and then added, "They're pretty tart if you just eat 'em right off the bush, right, Littlejohn?"
The big man smiled triumphantly "Right, Sarge!"
Further discussion on pies and elderberries was momentarily halted when a jeep arrived in front of the CP, and then ended altogether with the shout, "MAIL CALL!...MAIL CALL!"
First Squad got up and headed for the unknown corporal who was already reading out names of the men in Second Platoon, "Abernathy, Pvt. Philip Abernathy…Crenshaw, Pvt. Andy Crenshaw …LeMay, Pfc. Paul LeMay…"
Each man grabbed at the welcomed letter from home when his name was called. Once he had his mail in hand, he drifted away, leaving more room around the jeep for others. "…Nelson, Pvt. William Nelson… Cotton, Pvt. Michael Cotton…LeMay, Pfc. Paul LeMay…"
Kirby was just about to say something to Caje about getting two letters when his own name was called, followed by "…Saunders, Sgt. John G. Saunders…" He turned around and stared as the Sarge reached for the letter.
'Huh, John G.,' the BAR man thought to himself before turning his attention to his own letter.
Saunders took his letter and walked away from the rest of the squad. The return address on the envelope told him who it was from, Carol Ann Simpson (1). He sat on a log and opened the envelope. The letter was written in the same neat, precise script he remembered.
Dear Chip,
I asked your mother for your address because I'm getting married and before I do, I wanted to clear the air between us. We hardly talked before you left, I was so upset, I cried non-stop for three whole days. You never asked me to marry you or even to wait for you. I thought you didn't love me. That's why I never wrote.
Then I met Rodney and, well, like I said, I'm getting married.
Daddy just told me about the talk he had with you the day Pearl Harbor was attacked, that he told you not to propose or ask me to wait. Now I understand. I know he was only trying to protect me, but he ended up hurting both of us. Please forgive him. And, forgive me, too, for not demanding an explanation from you. I know now that's what I should have done, but I was young and foolish.
However, we can't go back in time. That chapter of our lives is over.
Please remember me fondly, as I will remember you,
Carol Ann
He read the letter a second time before folding it up and putting it in his shirt pocket. He was glad she had written but, like she said, that chapter of his life was over. He decided he would write her back and wish her well.
It had been a rare, quiet day for the platoon, but late in the afternoon, Lt. Hanley met with his squad leaders and let them know that tomorrow things would be back to normal. First Squad would be heading out early to find a good spot to set up an OP.
After receiving the news, the squad members checked their gear and began filling cartridges and mags with ammo in preparation for the mission.
Out of the blue, Kirby said, "Sarge, what's the 'G' for, George?"
"What are you talking about, mon ami?" asked Caje.
"The Sarge got a letter today an' it was addressed to Sgt. John G. Saunders. I was wonderin' what the 'G' stands for. Is it George?"
The squad members didn't know much personal information about their sergeant. They hadn't even known that his first name was John. He rarely volunteered anything or joined in their conversations about home. Now, their curiosity was also aroused, and they looked at him, wondering if he would answer the question.
The NCO never looked up from the mag he was filling. "Nope," was all he said.
"Gerald?"
"Nope."
"Gary?" asked Billy.
"Nope."
After a few more guesses, interest in the topic waned. Saunders smiled to himself. He was pretty sure they would never come up with it.
It was the first day of school. Chip was eight years old and would be entering third grade. He was excited. He really liked school. Of course, nobody knew that, except his mother. 'Old' Mrs. Porter and her husband had moved away, so there was going to be a new third grade teacher. Chip hoped he would like her.
"Chip, now you hang onto Robbie's hand so he doesn't get lost, and you walk him all the way to his room, understand?"
"Yes, Momma. You already told me that."
"And after school, you go to his classroom and pick him up and hold his hand while you walk him home, understand?"
"Yes, Momma. You already told me that, too. We gotta go or we're gonna be late."
"Alright, give me a kiss good-bye…Robbie, you mind your brother. Now give Momma a kiss… Have a good day, boys!"
Chip and all of his friends gathered in one corner of the classroom, greeting each other after the long summer and being little boy rowdy. The girls were congregated in another corner, giggling and talking when the new teacher entered the noisy room.
"Children, please take your seats. My name is Mrs. Haner." She printed her name on the blackboard. "When I call your name, please stand and say 'here'."
Chip waited patiently while she went alphabetically through the names. She called out the name of one of his friends, "David Peters," and he knew he would be next. He prepared to stand.
"John Saunders."
He froze. Nobody called him that. The other kids turned around and looked at him. Some started to giggle.
"John Gallup Saunders (2)." She said the name, looking right at him.
"Gallup!…What kind of a name is that?" someone said.
"Maybe he's part horse," said another.
The whole classroom exploded with laughter.
His face got redder and redder. He wanted to slip under his desk so nobody could see him. Finally, after the laughter seemed to have gone on for hours, Carol Ann Simpson stood up. She was such a know-it-all.
"Mrs. Haner, John GALLUP Saunders doesn't go by that name," she said, emphasizing the 'Gallup' part of his name. "Everyone just calls him 'CHIP' and that's him," she turned around and pointed to him, "right THERE."
The kids all started laughing again.
"All right, children. That's enough." Mrs. Haner continued on with the roll call, but for Chip, the damage was done. He knew he would hate this teacher and school for the rest of his life.
The day dragged on. Chip sat slumped in his chair, not participating even when they went outside for recess. Finally, it was time to go home. He stood and bolted for the door, but Mrs. Haner was there and stopped him. As the rest of his classmates walked by, some started to laugh again.
When they were all gone, she said to him, "I'm sorry if I embarrassed you, John…er Chip. I knew it had to be you because all of you Saunders boys look the same. I…"
Before she could say anything more, he said, "It's okay," and ran out of the room, down the hallway, out the front door and all the way home. He didn't stop until he reached his bedroom. He slammed the door, threw himself down on his bed and started to cry.
He knew his mother had seen him come home. She would be coming upstairs to see what was wrong. But, instead of her footsteps on the stairs, he heard a knock at the front door. He got up and opened his door just a bit so he could hear.
"Hi, Aunt Grace. I brought Robbie home." It was his cousin. He had forgotten all about his little brother.
"Oh, thank you, Charlie. There's milk and cookies in the kitchen. Why don't you join us?"
Charlie thought about it for a moment. "Thanks, but I'd best be gettin' home. Momma will want to hear all about my first day."
"Well, how about you just take a cookie to eat on the way."
"Gee, thanks, Aunt Grace."
Chip closed the door. Charlie knew what had happened. That's why he had picked up Robbie. The whole school knew. He threw himself back on his bed as once again the tears began to flow.
He didn't hear his mother come upstairs until there was a soft knock at the door. "Chip, may I come in?"
There was no answer, so she knocked again. When Chip still didn't answer, she opened the door, stepped into the room and closed it behind her. There was the boy, sprawled across the bed. She sat down beside him and rubbed his back. He turned over to look at her and she saw his tear-stained cheeks.
"Tell me what happened," she said quietly.
He started to tell her the story, how the teacher had called him 'John' and then 'John Gallup.'
"But, sweetie, you know that's your real name."
"But, you never call me that…why did you name me that if you hate it?"
"Oh sweetie, is that what you think, that daddy and I hate your name?...No, no, no, honey. It's not like that at all…When your daddy and your Uncle John, Charlie's father, were growing up, they were as close as two brothers can be. They were best friends and they did everything together." Grace started to laugh. "What a pair they were…Anyway, your uncle and your daddy loved each other so much that they made a pact that they would each name their first born son after the other. That's why your cousin was named Charles and you were named John."
"But, if Daddy loved his brother so much, how come you don't call me John or Johnny?"
"Because, Chip, after your uncle met and married your Aunt Ruth, he joined the Army. He wanted your daddy to join, too, but your grandparents wanted him to finish high school first. So, Uncle John went off by himself, and then the Great War happened and your uncle died. It broke your daddy's heart.
"When your cousin was born, Aunt Ruth honored the pact and named the baby Charles Langdon just like your daddy's name. When you were born, you were named John Gallup, just like your uncle. But, each time your daddy called you John, it reminded him of his brother and that made him sad. So, we just started calling you Chip, because," she smiled, "all you Saunders boys look alike, like chips off the old block."
"That's just what Mrs. Haner said, that all us Saunders boys look alike."
"Yes, and she called you John Gallup. She knew your middle name. You know what I think?"
"What, Momma?"
"I think if you talked to Mrs. Haner, you'd find out that she knew your Uncle John. Why don't you give it a try?"
"Do I have to?"
"No, but I'll bet if you did, you'd be surprised."
"Momma, how come me an' Charlie got funny middle names?"
"You mean how come Charlie and I have funny middle names."
"Yes, Ma'am. How come?"
"That's easy. Your grandfather's mother was a Langdon before she married and your grandmother's mother was a Gallup before she got married. They're both just old family names. I'll bet if you asked the other kids in your class what their middle names are, you'd find out that a lot of them are old family names, too. Understand?"
"Yeah, but when I grow up an' get married, I'm gonna name my kids regular names."
She laughed. "Well, names are important. They tell us where we came from and help us remember and honor the people who influenced our lives. And, you shouldn't be ashamed of yours. You were named for a wonderful, loving brother. If you'd like, I'll talk to your father and we can start calling you John."
Chip thought for a moment before responding. He'd been 'Chip' all his life, and he didn't want his daddy to be sad. "No, Momma. I'll keep on being Chip."
Two weeks later, Chip lingered after school until all his classmates had left. "Mrs. Haner, can I ask you somethin'?"
"Yes, Chip. What would you like to know?"
"Did you…did you know my Uncle John?"
Mrs. Haner smiled at the little boy. "Yes, Chip, I knew him very well. We were classmates and close friends…"
The squad turned in early, knowing they would be up before dawn with a long day ahead of them.
As the men were drifting off to sleep, Kirby asked, "Gregory?"
"Nope."
(1) Reference to a character in 'Pt. 4, Pvt. Joseph Lydecker – In For a Penny…'
(2) Author's Note: I chose the name 'John Gallup' for Saunders for two reasons. 'John' is in honor of my high school classmate Pat Saunders' little brother, Johnny. The blonde haired, blue eyed boy I knew grew up to be Sgt. John Saunders. In 1980, thirteen days after celebrating his 24th birthday, he was killed during a training exercise.
'Gallup', an old family name, is in remembrance of my father, James G. Lawrence, who served in the ETO during World War II.