Chapter 7: Merrily We Roll Along
19 October 1941
It's been a while since I've had a chance to write. There's been very little downtime. Our LRDP units are sort of in limbo. We're being utilized mostly for recon and demolition, but we aren't "officially" in Africa even though we are currently based in Benghazi. Because the U.S. hasn't yet entered the war, we're almost like an undercover group attached to the British. We answer to Captain Boggs of the U.S. Army, but we don't talk about being "American." We don't talk about being on duty in Africa. We don't talk about what will happen if we're captured and Americans are found to be engaging in a war their country hasn't yet authorized. It's crazy. And very frustrating.
They can't actually believe we are fooling anyone. We rather stand out from our British units. We're in jeeps with mounted guns and they drive trucks. PINK trucks. Can you imagine. I would be so embarrassed. We're a four-man team instead of eight. Our olive uniforms quickly faded to tan in the desert sun and are far too heavy for the desert as opposed to the lighter weight British uniforms. So glad shorts and knee socks are not part of our daily wear. I can't imagine being taken seriously while wearing that get up. I also don't think I could stand wearing an ascot around my neck. Our helmets are different shapes, and we don't wear insignia in the field. Our jeeps are unmarked. so how can they possibly think we're "blending in" with the British? They're delusional. All the more reason I'm glad I declined being an officer.
Tully and I have developed a good working relationship with driving the jeeps. We can almost sense what the other is going to do when we're in the field. He drives Troy and I drive Cotter. So far that's working out. Cotter and Sarge (Troy) get along well and plan out how we're going to handle the assignment. Boggs basically tells Troy what needs to be done and leaves the details up to him. So far, we have a 100% mission completion record.
Our demolition work has been done at night so we can't be identified. Our first missions included destroying German landing strips by planting and detonating landmines. We've been spotted a few times, but the jeeps are fast enough to get us away before they can confirm our identity or catch us. Reconnoitering is different. Some days we bake in the sand waiting to see what happens at certain coordinates. If a convoy is located, we have to call in the British patrols who get to do most of the up close fighting while we hang back to see if they need help. I don't care for this at all. If we found the convoy, we should be able to take the lead on destroying the cargo instead of playing nursemaid.
My favorite missions are when we discover a hidden ammo or fuel supply. The Germans seem to utilize a lot of the caves in the area to stash their stuff. There's usually only a skeleton crew, if any, guarding the goods, making it easy to knock out the guards and plant the explosive devices. We are long clear when they go off and the sky lights up like the Fourth of July over New York Harbor. It's a beautiful sight.
Troy has turned out to be a great leader of our team. He expects us to give our best 100% of the time and we usually do. When something doesn't go as planned he's quick to adjust and come at the problem from another perspective. I respect him a lot and learn something new on each assignment. He makes sure we're okay and is generally easy to talk with if we have a problem. Sometimes he sounds like a mother hen when Tully and I have a free evening that includes drinking and girls. He's constantly warning us about picking up local Arab women and the cultural differences that can create problems. He's such a worry wart. We're adults. Nothing's going to happen that we can't handle.
I guess I should write a few words about our fourth man, Bill Cotter. He's kind of quiet and about the same height as Sarge, but thinner. He's from Cincinnati and has light brown hair and hazel eyes. He's a good man and handles the .50's as well as Troy. He's our best cook but that's not saying a whole lot since the food choices are not the best. I've gotten used to the powdered eggs and I like it when he adds cut up Spam to them. Sarge seems to like ham and lima beans the best. Never been much of a fan of lima beans but here, you eat what you have. What I wouldn't give for a freshly steamed lobster with melted butter, or a thick, juicy steak. I'd be happy with an ice-cold beer. I do like Cotter's coffee—it's strong, the way Sarge and I both like it.
Anyway, Cotter's engaged to a girl back home and they plan to get married as soon as he gets back. They're high school sweethearts and he's crazy about her. Her picture is taped to the jeep dashboard and before each mission, he kisses his fingers and touches them to her lips for good luck. So far, it's worked.
Got a letter from Vi. Miss watching her grow up but glad she keeps me posted. Zu-Zu is so busy with the Rockettes and having the time of her life. She understands about my not telling my teammates about her. She doesn't tell her dancer friends about me, either. No one seems to understand that we're just friends. I miss having her to talk with. She always understands even when I can't find the words to say what I'm trying to say. Mother sent some of her fudge and the guys loved it. Told me to ask for more. Still no word from Father. Granny Mac sent some paperback mysteries and comic books. Can't believe she asked me if I was practicing birth control since she knew I wasn't practicing self-control. At least it's better than all the sex education films the army is always showing.
Have to wrap this up. We're heading back out to the desert in an hour, and I need to make sure Bertha is ready. That's what I named my jeep. Tully's is Olive. Not sure when I'll have a chance to write again.