Wingmen (9781310207280) (62 page)

“Got a cherry
on you?”

“’Fraid not,
Fred. I’m sorry.”

The sea rocked
them gently and the piece of aluminum bore into Jack’s stomach.
“Looks like the guys did pretty good back there,” said Fred.

“I knew they
would,” said Jack.

“If only they’d
gotten there a little sooner.”

“Yeah.”

“What time is
it?”

“Two-thirty.”
Jack didn’t even look at his stopped watch.

“Already?” Fred
chuckled, his eyes squeezed shut by the swelling. “Were you really
mad at us yesterday?” he asked.

“Nah,” said
Jack. He was looking for another Syrette. “Not really. Not at you
anyway. But I had to do something.”

“Well, it sure
worked.” Fred’s ugly black face contorted into a grimace of
pain.

“Yeah, it
worked.” Jack found the morphine, injected it, and his wingman
drifted away. The afternoon sun beat down on them, burning Fred’s
lips until Jack covered them with his handkerchief. Feeling
hopeless enough for prayer, Jack tried and could remember only part
of one, from his boyhood days in church: We have left undone those
things which we ought to have done, and done those things which we
ought not to have done. And there is no health in us.

The sun sank
low. Jack’s body hurt from the cramped position he had held all
day, from sunburn and hunger. When it was nearly dark and Jack was
sure Fred would never last through the night, a submarine named
Searaven
grumbled and smoked over the horizon and plucked them both from the
sea off Truk.

Although
postmission analysis reduced Fighting Twenty’s claim of thirty-six
kills over Truk on 17 and 18 February to a more modest twenty-four,
it still stands as the highest score for any squadron engaged.

Jack Hardigan
led Fighting Twenty with an iron hand for another four months of
unremitting action, culminating in the incredible fighter victory
of the Turkey Shoot off Saipan in June, 1944. Under another C.O.
the Jacks fought in every major action up to and including Okinawa,
emerging in the top three wartime squadrons for most confirmed
kills.

Without
reservation, it can be said that Fighting Twenty went to Truk a
dispirited, hard-luck outfit, and emerged two days later a
striving, deadly squadron satisfied only by excellence. To the
skipper must go the credit…

Lt. Cmd. James
R. Bagley, USN:
“Jacks Over Truk: The Metamorphosis of Fighting Twenty,”
Sea Power
,
Vol. VI, no. 6, June, 1953.

Naval
Hospital

Pearl
Harbor

April 15,
1944

Dear Skipper:

Just a little
note to catch you up on things these days, even though there isn’t
a whole lot to tell. I haven’t been doing much of anything outside
of lying around and, as the doctors say, getting better all the
time. They took the finger off completely down to the knuckle, and
I haven’t really gotten used to looking down and finding one gone.
Also, they’ve been taking x rays of my back and neck like there was
something wrong there, although it feels all right with me. The leg
has mended just fine.

Admiral Berkey
was in the hospital for a while back in March. When I asked one of
the doctors where he had gone, she said he died of cancer. It was
too bad. He was a nice person.

How’s the
squadron doing? Fine, I hope. I really miss being back with you and
all the guys, doing something important, but they won’t tell me
when they think I’ll be ready to return. Typical Navy doctors, all
of them. I hope the censors leave that part in.

Well, there
isn’t much more to say right now, so I guess I better sign off.
It’s just before noon here on Saturday, and this nurse I know
pretty well keeps asking me to go down to the beach with her, so
this time I guess I’d better go. It’s all for the war effort, you
know. Maybe she’ll put in a good word for me and get me back to the
ship where I belong.

Write soon and
catch me up on things. Take care of yourself.

Sincerely,

Fred

P.S. Just heard
that they are giving me another medal and that you had something to
do with recommending it. I was having enough trouble keeping the
nurses off my back, now they won’t leave me alone. Thanks for
everything.

Regards, Fred
(Old Nine Fingers)

USS
Constitution

Somewhere in
the Pacific

30 June
1944

Dear Fred:

Got your letter
last week and had a good time reading it and showing it to a few of
the guys. They seemed to be amazed at how far things have gone—now
the gals ask the guys to go to the beach. Or is it just your
irresistible personality? Whatever it is, as Jim Bagley says,
“Trusty strikes again.”

As to news of
the squadron, there’s quite a bit to tell, most of which I can’t
say in a letter. Suffice to say that we’ve been busy, ending up a
week or so ago with the big action I’m sure you’ve read about in
the papers. The whole air group was involved there, and I got
another one added to my score as did most of the other old-timers.
We’ve got a lot of new men and they are all right as far as that
goes, but they’ll never be the same as the good old bunch we
started with. By the way, Dave Peckerly was lost on a training
flight last month. We don’t know what happened to him.

Duane Higgins
will be detached sometime next month and will head back to the
states to form a new squadron. He’ll be upped to lieutenant
commander, too. I recommended him highly for the job and feel he
deserves it.

Now for the big
news. After this last action I was recommended for a decoration
(Navy Cross), and now they want to rotate me back to the States to
help sell war bonds for a while and then maybe head up a new air
group. All of this will happen in the next month or so, as soon as
I break in the new skipper. I tell you all this because I’ll be
coming through Pearl on my way stateside and maybe we could get
together for a few drinks and talk over old times. That is, if you
haven’t left for a new squadron yourself by that time. Write me and
keep me up to date on your latest address.

Well, it’s time
for the evening movie, so I guess I’ll close for now. Don’t forget
to write, and take care of yourself.

Sincerely,

J. E.
Hardigan

Bachelor
Officer’s Quarters

Pearl Harbor
Naval Station

August 2,
1944

Dear Jack:

Here it is
August already and I guess I put off writing until there was some
news to pass on, but before we get into that I want to say that I
had a great time when you came through Pearl last month. I
apologize for the lack of room, there being more brass in the
islands these days than swabbies and mere lieutenants like myself.
Yes, they kicked me up to lieutenant. More on that.

It seems they
kicked me up a grade as a sort of consolation prize, to make up for
the fact that they’re kicking me out altogether. Out of the Navy,
that is. It came as a surprise. I know that a man can’t fly a plane
with 10 percent of his digits gone, but I was still hoping for
something else to come along. Until last week, that is. I was
having some minor problems with my eyes and I didn’t think it was
serious, but then they looked real close and found a sliver of
steel in my left eye. It’s been there since last November, I think,
when I got the three Kates. I wasn’t wearing my goggles then.
Anyway, they’ve also decided that one of the bones in my neck is
cracked or bruised or something and could cause trouble later on.
Therefore, it’s civilian life once more.

Well, I’ve been
talking all about myself and not about you. How’s the bond drive
going? Are things really that short on the mainland? I heard
someone say that you have to stand in line to buy a tube of
toothpaste. I can’t believe it’s that bad.

My separation
orders will be coming through sometime next month, and then I’ll go
to an outfit in San Francisco for final processing. After that I
guess I’ll go home to San Jose. If you ever come through there, I
certainly hope you’ll come by and say hello. It would really be
great to talk to you again. Write soon.

Regards,

Fred

Naval Air
Training Command

Washington, D.
C.

14 January
1945

Dear Fred:

Where does the
time go? It seems like I’ve been here for only a month or two,
though it’s been more like six. I appreciate the letters you write,
if only because I don’t get very much other mail. I’m close enough
to home to fly up there (Maine), and I do every couple of months,
but it’s no fun when all you hear is, When are you getting
married?

I seem to have
gotten a little rusty since last June, and I’m not sure if I’ll
ever get into action again. I can’t imagine the war lasting much
longer, what with the pasting we gave them last October.

Congratulations
on your new job. Running a hardware store may not sound like an
important thing right now, but I have a feeling that after the war
things are really going to boom and that will be as good a place to
make a name for yourself as any.

Did you think
the old
Ironsides
was a big ship? Well, they’re building
another class of flattops that make the
Ironsides
look like a ferry boat.
I’ve done some of the original air group planning on them. Who
knows, they might offer me a squadron on one of them, which would
be a mixed blessing. I can’t say more on that subject.

By the way, I’m
considering flying out to the coast for training (and to keep the
extra pay) sometime this month. Moffet Field would be a good
choice. You could show me that store of yours and maybe we could
wow the kids on the block with some sea stories. What do you
say?

Write soon, and
don’t take any wooden nickels.

Sincerely,

Jack

USS
Bon Homme
Richard

Somewhere in
the Pacific

August 6,
1945

Dear Fred:

How about that?
I guess I was just premature about it all. The war isn’t over yet
and here I am, back at sea. Although I was expecting an air group,
it seems they’ve got too many CAGs around these days, so it’s old
Squadron Leader Hardigan again. All the pilots are experienced now,
not like back in ’43 when three-quarters of the squadron were
bare-faced ensigns, yourself included. I ran into Duane Higgins on
the way out. He’s got the fighters on the
Ticonderoga
. We only had time to
say hello in passing, and he didn’t seem very friendly. I guess we
had little to talk about anyway.

You can tell
that things are going well for us out here now, except we don’t
quite know what to do about the suiciders. It’s something that one
can’t quite understand or explain, these pilots killing themselves
that way. It just doesn’t make sense, when you think that they must
be as tired of the war as we are. Why don’t they just quit? I’ve
been thinking about your offer of going into the hardware business
with you when it’s over, and it sounds better all the time. I think
I’d like counting nuts and bolts better than counting kills.

Well, I’ve just
got time for this short note. We’re actually not far from enemy
airfields right now (hope the censors leave that one in), and we’re
maintaining an eight plane CAP during all daylight hours. Keep up
the good work and write soon.

Sincerely,

Jack

San Jose
Mercury
News
, March 21, 1946

The son of the
late owner of San Jose Hardware announced today the opening of a
new and bigger hardware store in downtown San Jose. Frederick
Trusteau, the son of Robert Trusteau, who passed away last month
after more than thirty years in the hardware business, says that
the new store will occupy an entire city block on First Street
between Taylor and Jackson and will be open for business the first
day of October. Trusteau’s partner in the venture will be former
Commander Jack Hardigan, a much decorated naval officer and
shipmate from the war. The new store will be called “Trusty’s
Building Supplies,” and will handle a number of new lines including
lumber, roofing materials, and flooring products.

The
announcement is concurrent with the latest figures on the building
and commercial development surge which the Bay Area, and San Jose
in particular, is experiencing…

San Francisco
Chronicle
,
March 21, 1948

Shown above is
Miss Erma Badger, cutting the ribbon on the new Trusty’s Building
Supplies Store on Shattuck Avenue in Berkeley. To the right and
left respectively are Frederick Trusteau and J. E. Hardigan, major
stockholders in Trusty’s Incorporated, which now boasts three
stores in the Bay Area, the other two being in San Jose and San
Bruno. Mr. Hardigan states that the board of directors is
considering the placement of another store in either the Los
Angeles or Sacramento area…

From the Desk
of Frederick Trusteau.

March 21,
1951

Jack—Sorry I
missed you in the office today. The final figures for the L.A.
store are in and do they look good. I put them in your box which
means you’ve probably already seen them.

I have a
doctor’s appointment at ten, and after that Bob Gilardi the real
estate man is going to show me some parcels in the Willow Glen
area. I’ll make it back in time for the manager’s meeting this P.M.
See you later.

Fred, 9:15

U. S. Naval
Air Station

Yokosuka,
Japan

August 9,
1952

Dear
Trusty: