Post by tomt1999 on Jan 16, 2024 19:48:13 GMT -8
Captain Frank DeLozier and his crew hopped off the truck and spilled into the interrogation tent. DeLozier reached
out to give his co-pilot, Percy "Purse" Johnson, the ops clipboard. Johnson always gave the after-action report
to the S-2. He waited a moment for Johnson to take it.
"Purse?" Nothing. "Hey Purse." He clapped the clipboard against Johnson's stomach.
"What?" Johnson turned his head with a startled look on his face. "Oh yeah" he mumbled. "Sorry". He took the clipboard.
DeLozier's eyes scanned the room and saw an S-2 staffer motioning him over. "Let's go," he said. "Table three."
The men made their way through the other crews clustered around the debriefing tables. As they drew
up in front of table three, the S-2 man looked up from his papers. He paused for a moment and said,
"Lieutenant? Sir?" He glanced down at the clipboard in Johnson's hands. "Are you going to give your report, sir?"
DeLozier shot a look at Johnson. He'd seen that thousand-yard stare before. "I've got it this time, Purse."
He eased the clipboard from Johnson's grasp. Johnson melted into the back of the crew.
DeLozier gave the facts and figures of the mission and the crew was dismissed to coffee and ham sandwiches
at the end of the room. As they stood munching away, he looked carefully at each man of the crew, looking for
signs of fatigue or stress. Suddenly he realized, where's Purse?
He looked around and saw that Johnson wasn't with the crew. A further look showed that Johnson was not in
the room anymore. DeLozier stepped out of the door and almost bumped into his co-pilot, who was standing
there in the street with a blank expression.
"Sorry about back there, sir" Johnson hung his head. "I don't know what's going on with me. It's just... I mean..."
His voice broke.
"You must be hurting pretty bad, Percy, want to talk some? Are you injured? Sick? Got girl problems?" DeLozier
elbowed him good-naturedly in the ribs.
Johnson smiled weakly and shifted his wait uneasily. "Nothing like that, sir. It just seems that I'm just waiting for the
other shoe to fall. First my wound and then..." DeLozier waited for him to continue. "Like today, for instance. I
should be happy, right? We've come home from another mission. We made another one. But I don't feel that way."
He looked directly in DeLozier's eyes. "I feel like I'm one step closer to buying it, sir."
DeLozier sighed. "I know I should come back with a bunch of malarky like 'you're one mission close to home" and
"buck it up, man", but I think sometimes those things do more harm than good."
The two men paused as a noisy truck drove by.
"I'll tell you what, Purse" DeLozier said after a moment. "What you need is a few days off..."
"Oh no, I couldn't do that. I don't want to let the boys down. I can make it through, sir. Don't send me away." He
looked off in the distance. "I wouldn't know what to do on leave anyway."
"Nonsense, Lieutenant. You're not going on leave. I just happen to have a package I need picked up. A 'special'
package from a friend of mine," he said with a wink. "One that I don't want bouncing around in the back of an army truck.
I need you to go down to Taranto and pick it up for me. I'll get you the address. You'll leave tonight." He turned to walk
off. "Oh and if it's not ready when you get there, just wait around for it."
DeLozier made a mental note to see the flight surgeon about a four-day pass.