Our Story

Chapter One

Charlie stretched his long legs as the train headed south towards Nashville. He shifted slightly in his seat trying to find a more comfortable position. The leather creaked and one of the springs in the cushion groaned in protest. Upkeep and repairs of the passenger cars had gone by the wayside during the war. Any extra materials had been needed for the war effort. The leather to replace the seats was needed for boots for the soldiers. The metal springs were better used for weapons, canteens, and any number of supplies the troops needed. He didn't mind the seat too much though. The accomidations were far better than the hammock style bed he had been assigned to the transport vessel when he had been sent to Hawaii.

The Jeremiah O'Brien was just a regular transport ship. Outfitted to fit as many warm bodies and supplies as possible. Charlie figured the War Department probably managed to fit far more soldiers and supplies on the ship than it was designed to hold. The only good part about the trip over to Hawaii that he could recall was that they didn't have to zigzag to avoid submarines. Though he would have much rather traded the zigzagging for the hellacious storms they had endured.

Though military vessels would never be considered to have a pleasant smell because of the over crowding and sweat from hundreds of soldiers in poorly venitlated areas, this trip was made even worse because of horrible travel conditions. Men who had never been on a boat before were introduced to what it felt like to be seasick. Even experienced sailors were hard put to keep their latest meal down. Not that the canned beans had been smelled appetizing going down, but coming up they were much worse.

The kitchen hadn't been able to prepare any kind of warm meals because of the hazardous sailing conditions. Cans of beans and a can opener were passed around at meal times. A week of nothing but beans would make anyone wish for a change in their diet. Though he had grown up during the depression, Charlie couldn't remember ever having such a limited option for meals. He prayed that he would never find himself in a position where he was forced to survive on beans again.

He had spent the last three years in Honolulu, Hawaii. He had been stationed there during the Second World War A member of the Corps of Engineers he wasn't likely to find himself huddling half frozen in a foxhole in the Ardennes or flying over Midway, however, tensions still ran high following the unexpected bombing of Pearl Harbor. Charlie was officially assigned to help design new and improve existing defensive structures surrounding the area in case of another attack. His unofficial assignment, unknown to even his commanding officer was to send weekly reports back to the War Department in Washington, D.C. These reports included anything he may have heard from fellow soldiers who were considering treasonous acts, or any chatter around town from the local citizens. It wasn't a job he particularly liked, but it showed how much the government trusted him, so he took the job seriously.

He chuckled to himself a little as he thought back to some of the things he had been required to report back. Fellow soldiers claiming they were going to consider desertion if they had another meal of fried Spam with a side of pineapples and poi, wasn't really something he had ever considered a matter of national security, but according to his orders, it had to be reported back to D.C. Truth be told he wouldn't mind a bowl of fresh cut pineapples right now. He'd had pineapple periodically growing up and had never thought it was anything special.  Once he had it fresh from the plantation he changed his mind.  The sweet tangy fruit would literally drip juice as he tried to eat it.  Napkins were a necessity or else he would end up with the inevitable dribble of sticky pineapple juice on his uniform.

Thinking about the sweet pineapple made him realize breakfast had been several hours ago, but he was hesitant to give up his seat right now and his hunger was still at an ignorable level. He was hoping when they pulled into the station in Nashville a large portion of the current passengers would unload and few people would climb on. If so that would give him the luxury of grabbing a bite to eat and still having a seat to return to.