From Here to Eternity_ The Restored Edit - Jones, James [423]
“Gimme some of that coffee,” Stark said in a dead voice behind him, and held up his own cup. “Mine was empty.”
He turned around to hand him the cup and when he turned back a big tall thin red-headed boy who had not been there before was running down the street toward them, his red hair flapping in his self-induced breeze, and his knees coming up to his chin with every step. He looked like he was about to fall over backwards.
“Whats up, Red?” Warden hollered at him. “Whats happening? Wait a minute! Whats going on?”
The red-headed boy went on running down the street concentratedly, his eyes glaring whitely wildly at them.
“The Japs is bombing Wheeler Field!” he hollered over his shoulder. “The Japs is bombing Wheeler Field! I seen the red circles on the wings!”
He went on running down the middle of the street, and quite suddenly right behind him came a big roaring, getting bigger and bigger; behind the roaring came an airplane, leaping out suddenly over the trees.
Warden, along with the rest of them, watched it coming with his milk bottle still at his lips and the twin red flashes winking out from the nose. It came over and down and up and away and was gone, and the stones in the asphalt pavement at his feet popped up in a long curving line that led up the curb and puffs of dust came up from the grass and a line of cement popped out of the wall to the roof, then back down the wall to the grass and off out across the street again in a big S-shaped curve.
With a belated reflex, the crowd of men swept back in a wave toward the door, after the plane was already gone, and then swept right back out again pushing the ones in front into the street again.
Above the street between the trees Warden could see other planes down near the smoke column. They flashed silver like mirrors. Some of them began suddenly to grow larger. His shin hurt from where a stone out of the pavement had popped him.
“All right, you stupid fucks!” he bellowed. “Get back inside! You want to get your ass shot off?”
Down the street the red-haired boy lay sprawled out floppy-haired, wild-eyed, and silent, in the middle of the pavement The etched line on the asphalt ran up to him and continued on on the other side of him and then stopped.
“See that?” Warden bawled. “This aint jawbone, this is for record. Thems real bullets that guy was usin.”
The crowd moved reluctantly back toward the dayroom door. But one man ran to the wall and started probing with his pocketknife in one of the holes and came out with a bullet. It was a .50 caliber. Then another man ran out in the street and picked up something which turned out to be three open-end metal links. The middle one still had a .50 caliber casing in it. The general movement toward the dayroom stopped.
“Say! Thats pretty clever,” somebody said. “Our planes is still usin web machinegun belts that they got to carry back home!” The two men started showing their finds to the men around them. A couple of other men ran out into the street hurriedly.
“This’ll make me a good souvenir,” the man with the bullet said contentedly. “A bullet from a Jap plane on the day the war started.”
“Give me back my goddam coffee!” Warden hollered at Stark. “And help me shoo these dumb bastards back inside!”
“What you want me to do?” Chief Choate asked. He was still holding his plate and fork and chewing excitedly on a big bite.
“Help me get em inside,” Warden hollered.
Another plane, on which they could clearly see the red discs, came skidding over the trees firing and saved him the trouble. The two men hunting for metal links in the street sprinted breathlessly. The crowd moved back in a wave to the door, and stayed there. The plane flashed past, the helmeted head with the square goggles over the slant eyes and the long scarf rippling out behind it and the grin on the face as he waved, all clearly visible for the space of a wink, like a traveltalk slide flashed on and then off of a screen.
Warden, Stark, Pete and the Chief descended on them as the crowd started