Journal Entries
Chapter 1: At Last!
Isla and the USO company were currently touring Allied hospitals and bases across Italy. Heavy casualties kept the medical facilities at capacity as the war raged around them. There was talk of pulling the USO out of the country to a safer location but so far, the Foxhole Division of performers was doing its best to lift the spirits of the wounded and those engaged in fighting.
Entertaining so many men and performing so many shows in a short period of time was taking its toll on Isla. She was bone weary but kept pushing herself physically, mentally, and emotionally. She knew the soldiers in the audience had suffered much more and she couldn't let them down.
Tonight, she was finding it difficult to fall asleep. Her body ached and would welcome the rest, but it eluded her grasp. After tossing and turning, she decided to try reading to help her relax. Rummaging in her luggage for a book, she found Hitch's journals. He had entrusted them to her when they had been together in Africa. She selected the first one, climbed back into bed and began to read.
At last! It's a done deal. Today I turned eighteen and I am no longer prisoner to my father's control over me. I left campus early this morning and drove to NYC where I met with the bankers handling the trust fund from my grandmother. I am no longer dependent on my father's money, and he can no longer dictate what I can do or can't do. After signing the papers, I informed the bankers to NOT tell my father what had just taken place. I don't believe they will respect my wishes and if not, I'll find another bank to handle my affairs.
The nearest recruiting office wasn't far away, and I immediately enlisted in the Army. They pressured me to consider officer training, but I refused. I don't want to be an officer. I just want to be me. I passed the physical, even with my eyesight, and took the placement exam.
The U.S. can't hide its head in the sand much longer. They're going to have to realize we must take part in this fight as well. I want to be ready when that time comes. I wanted to enlist after Dunkirk, but my father refused to sign the papers, so I had to wait a few months until I turned eighteen. Now, there's nothing he can do about it, no matter how many powerful friends he calls on for favors. I have one week to get my affairs in order and then I'm heading to Ft. Bragg in Georgia. At last, I am beginning the life I want.
The next entry was dated three days later.
I knew the bank wouldn't honor my request. No bank would want to risk upsetting Daddy Warbucks. I moved my accounts to a new bank and arranged for a trusted friend to handle any business that might arise. I've been keeping a low profile. I cleared out my room at Cornell, withdrew from classes and spoke with the dean about continuing my studies by correspondence. He was surprised by my decision but supportive. He promised not to inform my father of my departure until I was in Georgia. I appreciate his support, especially since he's risking the anger of one of the school's biggest donors.
I've been torn between seeing my parents before I leave or sending a letter explaining everything. My mother will be heartbroken, but I really don't want to have another row with my father. The only one I've spoken with is Isla. Thank God I have her in my life. She is always there for me. Tomorrow I'm driving to Violet's school so I can say goodbye to her. She's only eleven but I know she will understand and keep my secret.
Two days later Hitch wrote:
Damn my father to the furthest regions of hell! Why can't he accept I know what I'm doing? It's my life! He's not going to control me anymore! I got to Vi's school and was told I couldn't see her. I was to call my father immediately. I refused and as I left, noticed a guy tailing me. I can't believe he's got a private detective following me. Guess I won't be visiting with them before I leave. I checked out of the hotel where I was staying and drove home. He followed me all the way and parked in front of the house. I drove through to the garage, parked my car, ducked through the gardens, and climbed the wall on the other side where I grabbed a cab, leaving behind Father's spy in the process. Checked into a different hotel under a different name. Called Isla from a phone booth and told her to watch for someone following her. The man will stop at nothing to get what he wants, at least where I'm concerned. I don't understand his need for control. He's always taught me to do what I can to help others and that's what I'm trying to do now. I can't just sit back and watch others put their lives on the line. It's the right thing to do.
It was two more days before Hitch wrote again.
Sure enough, my Father was having Isla watched as well, knowing I would never leave without seeing her. She is amazing. In my phone call I gave her a time and place to meet me if she could get rid of the stalker. In code of course. She rode the subway to Bergdorf Goodman's and went to the lingerie department where a guy would stand out like a sore thumb. He stood in the distance watching her.
She whispered for the saleslady to call for the Floor Manager, who happens to be a friend of Isla's mom. When Mrs. Lennox arrived, Isla confided that a man was following her, and she was fearful of what he might do. Isla was shown into the dressing room area and the police were called. The saleswomen hustled Isla through the maintenance hallways and put her safely in a cab while the P.I. was questioned by the police. She is so resourceful, and I'm sure she had a ball with the drama.
We met at Coney Island and spent several hours enjoying ourselves and talking. I really will miss her, but she has big plans of her own. She auditioned for and was accepted as a Radio City Music Hall Rockette. While I'm on my way to Georgia tomorrow, she's going to be breaking the news to her parents. Granny Mac is on her side so there won't be too much of an argument. She's going to take a letter to Violet for me and I posted letters to both my parents, explaining my decisions. I wish I could have said goodbye to my Mother—it's not her fault that Father and I fight so often. Tomorrow I'm finally on my way to the future I want. At last!
Isla yawned. She remembered that night at Coney Island and riding The Cyclone a dozen times. She sighed over the verbal battles Hitch and his Father had on numerous occasions and continued reading.
Arrived at Ft. Bragg two weeks ago and have not had time to record my thoughts. I've learned how to peel potatoes and clean a bathroom with a toothbrush all thanks to my mouth. Can't seem to remember that unless the drill sergeant is speaking specifically to you, he is NOT asking a rhetorical question and inviting comments. If he IS speaking directly to you, the proper response is "Yes, Drill Sergeant" or "No, Drill Sergeant." And don't EVER refer to them as "Sir."
I thought I had done a good job preparing myself physically, but I was wrong. By the end of the day, I am exhausted and fall asleep instantly. The exercises are okay and I'm gaining more upper body strength with the push-ups. Running hasn't been too bad, and they keep adding more and more distance. Prep school at least prepared me for inspections and keeping my gear stowed neatly.
My father was "displeased" when he received my letter and called some of his Washington D.C. cronies to see about getting me out of the Army or at least transferred to a safe office job. He's been sharing his anger about my not being an officer to anyone who will listen. He has threatened the post commander with all sorts of retributions and finally I was ordered to speak with him on the phone. I let him rant and rave before saying flat out that I wasn't going to let him bully me into any of the dozen or more scenarios he had in mind. I was a soldier, and I was going to become the best soldier I could be. It's not open for debate and I am not coming home. I sure wouldn't want to have been anywhere near him at the end of that call.
As usual, news of his interference has spread and I'm now dealing with the "poor little rich boy" nonsense I had to endure growing up. I've had to prove my worth in a couple of fights and will continue to work hard so no one can think I'm slacking or receiving any special favors because of who my father is.
My mother was indeed heartbroken that we hadn't had a chance to say goodbye. I told her I would write as often as possible and come see her before I ship overseas. I'm really sorry I left her the way I did but I was too angry with my father. She didn't deserve being treated like that. She has been supportive of me and has sent several letters. She isn't too happy with my father right now, but I don't want to come between the two of them.
Violet got my letter, and she understood why I couldn't see her to say goodbye. She is learning to knit so she can knit me a pair of socks. I'll believe that when it happens. I will miss watching her grow up. Who knows how long the war will last. It would be a lot sooner if the U.S. would get involved.
Isla is having a ball with the Rockettes and sends me pictures of herself and her fellow dancers. The other guys are pretty impressed when I receive letters from her. They especially like the photos of the girls in costume.
I've made a couple of friends, Cartwright and Mason and we hang out when we can. They are from Missouri and Baltimore and they're okay. I don't warm up to people easily, but we get along alright. We have some epic poker games, and they like to play practical jokes. They introduced me to comic books which I'd never really read before. I've become a fan of Superman and like the gadgets Batman comes up with.
A lot of the guys are dealing with homesickness. It's their first time being away from their families, and they've been thrust into a situation that is nothing like home. I can hear some of them crying at night because they miss their loved ones. I guess all those years in boarding school prepared me in ways I'd never considered. I try to listen when they want to talk and hope I'm helping them in some small way. I figure we're all in this together and we need to help one another any way we can.
Several weeks passed before Hitch returned to writing:
At least once a week I get called before some officer to discuss why I am not in Officer Training. They throw every argument they can think of at me, including the dreaded, "The army needs qualified officers. Your country NEEDS you." That one gets to me but I'm adamant about just being a regular joe. The army needs trained soldiers, too. I think being an officer is the "easy way" out. It's what would be expected for someone of my privileged upbringing. I don't want to rely on privilege but be judged on my own merit.
The most interesting training I've had so far, and I say that with a large roll of my eyes and tongue firmly planted in cheek, has to been the lectures we've received on condom use. The army seems to be obsessed with prophylactics. Condoms are readily available and free. When in the field our K-rations will include a condom and a piece of gum. Everywhere are posters with the most blatant slogans like "Put one on before you put it in," and "Condoms: I take one everywhere I take my penis." I wonder if the general public knows about this campaign.
Anyway, we've had to sit through several lectures and learn all about STDs. They even demonstrated how to properly put on a condom, as if I needed to know. I was surprised by how many guys had never even seen a condom, much less used one. I guess I should thank my father for that bit of information during his "heart-to-heart" talk with me after my cousin got a girl in trouble. I always have several with me wherever I go. Judging from the questions being raised by some of the men, a lot of them have little or no experience with girls and lack basic knowledge of the feminine form. Isla paused to giggle and shake her head at Mark's words. No, from everything she had heard, he most definitely knew his way around a woman's body. She continued reading.
I DO NOT WANT TO BE AN OFFICER! How many times to I have to say it? It's like an endless recording and I'm sick to death about all the haranguing. When they ask me what I envision for my service in the Army, I tell them I want to learn and train as much as possible so I can be an asset and use whatever skills I develop to best serve but that definitely does NOT include being an officer or serving in an office someplace.
Isla found herself yawning and her eyes growing heavy. Setting aside his journal, she gave in to some much-needed sleep. She was looking forward to reading more about his army life, especially once he became a part of the Rat Patrol.