Chapter 34 Chapter Thirty-Three

In the middle of July, before Rhoda had recovered from the shock of the bad news, he left Washington by train and set out for the West Coast.Madeleine was already in Hollywood, and Byron was training at the submarine attack school in San Diego. As long as he took time off, at least the three of them could be together.Even though it was a war year, traveling by train was still a pleasant thing, and the mere packing for this trip had eased her grief.Her first meal in the dining car brought life to her cold veins.She knew herself that she looked very handsome in pure black mourning eyes, a dark millinery hat, and dark stockings.After dinner, the gentlemen in the club car all favored her.An air force colonel with a moustache and a badge of honor paid for a drink for her, just to try his luck.It's just too ignorant!Didn't this man see her mourning dress?She gave him a sad look and poured cold water on him. It took her a long time to fall asleep on the bunk under the thick, fluffy blanket from the Pullman sleeper.The rattling wheels, the rhythmic rocking of the bunks, the panting wail of the locomotive, the smell of old train seat covers and green curtains, the vibration of the rolling train in the long night—all this All made her immersed in nostalgic grief.Back then, when she was a nineteen-year-old girl who had just been engaged, she once spent the night in the car like this, full of love in her heart, and full of longing for a happy life, and galloped to Charleston to meet Pug; The two of them had snuggled up in a lower bunk during that short, frenetic honeymoon; she had taken the baby in the bunk as the family moved from place to place in Pug's residence, first one, then two, then is three.She was in the car again tonight, but she was sleeping alone, going to join her two remaining adult children.

Alas, how can I look back on the day Warren got married and drove to Pensacola Airport, the singing and champagne along the way!Alas, that last moment of seeing him, the last reunion of her little family, was gone forever!He was exceptionally handsome as a boy, and he sang loudly along the way in his Cadillac. The whole family, including his blond bride and Byron's dark-haired, dark-skinned Jewish girl, were all in the car. Sings in unison: Until we meet again, until we meet again, until we meet at the feet of Jesus... Rhoda considered her son's death a punishment for herself.For weeks, she had been blaming herself and agonizing, a cleansing process of beating herself up and removing the buildup.She was determined to cut her vice out of her life like a cancer.This determination led her to turn the death of her firstborn son into a redemptive experience; she spent a lot of time in church and shed a lot of tears.Rhoda, like most military wives and loving mothers, thought she had been tempered and was not afraid of bad news. But a few days after the Battle of Midway, when the doorbell rang at seven o'clock in the morning, she was startled and read Just the words and sentences on the yellow telegraph, and the soul is out of the body.Warren!The top kid, the one who always gets awards and the highest test scores, goes to good schools, marries good girls, rises faster in the Navy than his father ever did—Warren, go!died!Her eldest son, whom she would never see again, was buried at the bottom of the ocean somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, miles below the surface, in the wreckage of an airplane!Holding a funeral and letting her see her son lying in the coffin for the last time, compared to the current situation, just a numb notice "telling her that the son she hasn't seen in two years has died, will it make her feel better? Or was it worse? She had no way of knowing. None of her mother's funerals, her father's funerals, or her brother's funerals had ever hit her so hard. A funeral always brings some relief, some outlet for grief. The only time she Relief was a letter from Pug home, a long, willful burst of tears.

She had planned to stay overnight in Chicago in order to break up with Kirby, but he was not in the office, so she had to do it on the way home.In the majestic shadow of her son's death, it seemed more absurd, and less vile, that their two men, past middle age, should engage in any intercourse between men and women.Both have needs, or they think they have needs, so they want to choose what they want from each other.This is the truth.Everything else is just fantasy.That is no longer the case.Pug was hers, body and mind, until her death.He may be too good to be matched by her, and his uprightness may cause unbearable suffering.But she still hoped to be more worthy of being his wife for the rest of her life.

Buried beneath this utterly heartfelt confession was an intuition that the Kirby affair had faded after all.The forbidden fruit is not necessarily without blemishes, but it is invisible in the twilight flame of desire; you must bite and taste it to know the bitterness of the rotten flesh.Her civilian lover was not necessarily very different from her officer husband.He shouldn't have had so many reasons to put her in the cold, yet he, like Pug, would ignore her and not see her for weeks at a time.Pug had warned her, Fred, in reply to her fatal letter demanding a divorce.Kirby found himself too much alike, the future may not be smooth.Wise old Pug!Seriously, Z Kirby despises her.She knew this, but she didn't face it until after Warren died.If she persisted to the end, he might not marry her, but that was not a marriage but four sets.After all, she had always been a fool over forty.Many women and Taoists have encountered such a thing, and she has also encountered it.What she longed for now was to break this matter cleanly and preserve her marriage.She has a myriad of thoughts, one after another, and they are all revolving around this determination, until she is on the swinging berth, amidst the wailing of the siren and the rhythmic click of the wheels, dimly fall asleep.

Three days later, at the bustling Los Angeles terminal, hordes of young men in white and yellow uniforms walked through the crowded crowd.Rhoda turned around, looking for someone with a red beard in the crowd, followed by a sweaty porter carrying her luggage. "I'm here, Mom." She was startled when she turned to see him, and threw herself between the outstretched arms of her clean-shaven son.He was wearing a white officer's uniform with a dazzling logo. The golden dolphin collar patch looked exactly like the gold wing collar patch. His face had grown fat, and he had a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He looked very similar to Warren. amazing.She had never thought the brothers much alike, but now, with their stern, tanned faces, they were so alike that it was impossible to tell which was which.She buried her face in the starched uniform and wept bitterly.When she was able to control herself, she wiped her eyes and swallowed hard, "I got a letter from Papa. It couldn't be better. Did you get his letter?"

"No. Let's go. I came in Madeline's car." He sat in the driver's seat, and he was Byron's lazy look again, smiling with the same mouth shape as when he was a baby. "You've lost weight. You're beautiful, Ma." "Oh, what's the use if I'm beautiful or not?" Tears welled up again.She put her hand on his. "It's hot in here, and I'm sweating like a black hat. I haven't had a good bath in three days, Byron. I'm sick of it." He leaned over to kiss her, a smile on his face. "Old mother." As he said, he drove the car onto a sunny avenue, lined with palms on both sides and connected with high-rise buildings; there were so many vehicles on the road that she had never seen in her life.

"What's the news about Natalie?" Rhoda tried to be natural, as if she really cared from the heart.Her Jewish daughter-in-law's name just wasn't easy to say. He fished out a long airline envelope from his inside pocket and handed it to her.It was a crumpled envelope densely covered with purple stamps. "It's from that fellow Sloot. I might have to go to Switzerland." "Oh, Byron, to Switzerland? What do you say? In wartime, you have to obey orders!" "It can be done. It won't be easy, but it can be done. I can take the train through the non-occupied zone of France, or fly from Lisbon to Zurich. When this torpedo training course is over, I will have thirty days off."

"Even if you have a vacation, boy. What happens when you get there?" Byron's face became stubborn and stubborn. "No one cares more about Natalie and the kid than I do. I can go out there and see my chance." Now that he had looked like this, the subject was certainly off the table, although his mother thought he was crazy.She couldn't understand Slote's letter, too, about exit visas and Brazil's nonsense. Rhoda never made it to Hollywood.As she walked through the hotel gardens, where hibiscus and mirabilis were in full bloom and the lawns were green, she saw a real movie star, Errol.Flynn, wearing only a pair of swimming trunks, was sitting by the pool with a teenage girl who was, of course, a starlet.She couldn't contain her excitement. "The first thing to do," said Byron, as Byron was carrying her bags into the large villa that Madeline had rented for the two of them, "is to take a shower. I can't stand it for a second." .”

"Where's Dad's letter?" "You want to see it now?" "yes" The envelopes were frayed, and the letterhead, USS NORTHAMPTON, was almost worn through the creases.Byron sat upside down in an easy chair to read the letter. He was familiar with his father's handwriting, firm and clear naval script, the short and horizontal letter t was strong, and all capital letters were written properly. Dearest Rhoda: At this moment you have been officially informed.I picked up the phone several times to talk to you, but it didn't work, and maybe that's for the best.After getting through the phone, wouldn't it be very painful for you and me.

Our son fought valiantly through the toughest phase of the battle.When he comes back from an attack, he always flies over our ship, flapping his wings.Warren's bomb directly hit a Japanese aircraft carrier and made a military exploit.He will likely be awarded the Navy Cross posthumously.This is what Rear Admiral Spruance told me.Spruance is a dignified man, but tears welled up in his eyes when he spoke of Warren, who he said had done "a remarkable, heroic feat," and Raymond.Spruance rarely phrased it this way. Warren was killed on a routine mission to clean up remnants on the last day.An anti-aircraft shell hit his plane.Three members of his squadron watched him spiral down in a burst of flames, so he made an emergency landing on the water, adrift on a life raft, or floated to an atoll, with no hope of that.Warren is dead, we will never see him again.We still have Byron, we still have Madeleine, but he is gone forever, and there will never be another Warren.

He came to see me just before the campaign; handed me an envelope. When I learned that he had been sacrificed (by this time we had returned to port), I took it apart.Here is a list of his payments.Janice was nothing to worry about, but he wasn't counting on his rich man either.He has arranged to transfer to her the trust monies your mother bequeathed to him, and an insurance sum sufficient to cover Vic's education expenses.What's going on here?Before the battle began, he was full of confidence and joy.I know he's expected to come back from this fight.Yet again he made this preparation.Now it seems to be right in front of my eyes, standing at the door of my cabin, with one hand on the top panel of the cabin door and one foot on the door barrier, with his easy-going smile, he said to me: : "If you are too busy to see me, please let me know." Too busy!God forgive me if I should have given him that impression.The greatest joy in my life is talking to Warren.In fact, it was just a matter of looking at him, not a conversation. It's been a while since your last letter, and Madeleine probably hasn't written a letter for half a year.So I have a sense of isolation, and I don't know how to speak to you.It might be of some use if you could spend some time with her in New York.The girl needs company, and now is not the time for you to live alone in Washington's house.Janice was well behaved, but she had been hit hard.Byron would probably keep his feelings under wraps, as usual, but I was worried for him.He had always admired Warren. I just finished writing my ship's combat report.This report consists of only one sheet of paper.We didn't fire a single shot, and we didn't see a single enemy ship.Warren must have flown a dozen search-and-strike missions in three days.He and hundreds of young people like him took up the burden of winning the battle.I did nothing. One of Shakespeare's characters said, "Everyone owes God a death." Even if we could go back in time to that rainy March night in 1939, he just returned from a vacation on the Monaghan and told us He'd signed up for flight training—that's the way he was, so unassuming, and let's face it—how could we have done it any differently, even if we knew what was going to happen then?He was born the son of a soldier.Boys always like to imitate their father.He chose the best branch in the Navy, the one that worked most effectively to kill the enemy; he has undoubtedly proved it by his deeds!No matter in which branch of arms or on which battlefield, there will not be many people who have contributed more than him to deal heavy losses in one fell swoop and make contributions to the country.Today, he is seeking benevolence and deserving benevolence.His life was successful, conscientious, and complete.I need to believe this, and in a sense I do. But alas, what a future Warren might have!I am a known number.There are thousands of people with four bars like me, it doesn't matter if there is one more or one less.I've got a family; you might say I'm already a human being.Huahua may have a bright future, how can I compare with it? Is it true that Warren never comes back? .He will not have any posthumous fame.When the war is over, no one will remember those who were born and died in the flames of war.People will forget the names of the admirals, and even the battles that saved our country.I feel now that no matter how many times the news of defeat is heard in the present, we will win this war after all.The Japanese would be devastated after the disastrous defeat at Midway Island, and Hitler could never hope to conquer the world by his own power.Our son was instrumental in this game-changing campaign.He was in the crucial place at the critical moment.He risked his life, threw himself into it, and fulfilled the duty of a soldier.I'm so proud of him.I will never lose that pride.As long as I am alive, I will miss him. All other matters will be discussed in the next letter.God keep you safe and well. Love you, Pagloda came out of her room in a silk bathrobe and said to Byron, "That's a nice letter, isn't it?" Byron said nothing.He sat smoking a cigar, staring blankly, his face sad, the letter spread on his knees.Seeing his silence and his look made her feel uneasy, so she said something pleasant to him, and at the same time combed her hair in front of a large mirror. "I've kept it. I've kept everything--the telegram, the letter from the Secretary of the Navy, all the other letters, the invitations from the Venus Mothers and the news in the Washington Herald. The report is admirable." Well. Hey, what kind of reception is this again, Byron? Isn't she working for Hugh Cleveland? I'm totally confused, and—oh, the hair is the devil! The light It’s not good, I don’t have time and I can’t take care of it, whatever.” "She's still doing it for him. This reception is another matter. It's her obligation." Byron stood up, and there was a stack of red and yellow overprinted notices on the coffee table, and he took one and handed it to her . "Eat a cold meal first, and then start the lively scene." Strive for an Immediate Second Front American Council Hollywood chapter holds mega-rally Where: Hollywood amphitheater Below is a long alphabetical list of attendees, movie stars, producers, directors, writers. "My God! What a stellar line-up. And Erist. Tudsbury, he's here too! You see, these are all great characters, aren't they, Byron?" Madeleine .Henry, the program coordinator! 'Good guy! I didn't expect this girl to be a celebrity." Madeline just rushed in. "Oh, mother!" The deep emotion of the cry, and the close embrace that followed, brought into communication the common grief of both mother and daughter.She wore a dark broad-shouldered dress, her dark hair flowed elegantly, and she spoke like a whirlwind. "I'm so glad you're here! Well, I was hoping you'd all be ready, but I've got to go right away, I think, and get Hugh's car back for you. Oh, God, so much talk Speak, don't you, Ma! This dinner party can all be over tonight, thank God, and then I can catch my breath." "Honey, we don't know these people, and I'm tired and out of clothes—" "Mother, you must both come. The Tudsburys are in your box too. They stayed to see you. They don't come to the party, but you get to see all the movie stars. Harry. Tomlin's house is on Le's Eye Hill, not to mention how beautiful the place is. He's in the movie business, and he's the number one among his peers. Wear whatever you want! You must have a black suit." "I've been wearing this all the way on the train, but—" Rhoda went to the next room before finishing his sentence. Byron pointed to the stack of notices. "Made, isn't this an activity of the Communist Party?" "My dear brother, it's nothing like that. All Hollywood is involved. It's a household movement. Now it's the Soviets who are really fighting Hitler, and they're all killing them. We need a second front, and we have to. No shouting. Everyone knew that Churchill hated the Bolsheviks the most, and wanted to stand still and leave the Soviet Union to fight the Germans alone and wear them out." "Everybody knows? I don't. How do you know?" "Oh, my God, Byron, you read the papers. Well, let's stop arguing, my dear brother, it's not worth arguing about. I'm taking part in this because I think it's fun, and it's a hell of a lot of fun. .I've met some great people. I don't want to be a Hugh Cleveland-buying trick forever." "I'm glad to hear that from you." Madeleine was on the phone with a man she called "Dear Lenny," talking ramblingly about a convention, and Rhoda strode in, buttoning his coat At. "Let's go. No one will notice me. I look like a poor aunt from some far country." Harry.Tomlin's home has expanses of lush redwoods and a glass-covered flagstone deck with a large blue-tiled swimming pool.A hauntingly steep concrete drive leads up a canyon.The residence sits high on the top of the driveway, with magnificent views overlooking Los Angeles.At this moment, Los Angeles is like a city immersed in the bottom of a brown lake, shining under the water.Madeleine introduced her mother and brother to a man standing at the door, and she herself disappeared among the laughing and tumultuous guests.The name of the man at the door was Leonard.Spraylegan, who chaired the convention, has two Academy Award-winning screenplays, according to Madeleine.Rhoda realized that she didn't have to worry about her clothes at all; Spreelegan had no tie, and the collar of his orange shirt was turned over a black and white checked cloth jacket.Madeline approached them in another gust of wind, introducing her mother and brother to this star and that star, all of them polite.Rhoda was secretly surprised, they all seemed strangely deflated, and now they were all living beings, not enlarged images projected on the screen. "How do you know all these people, dear?" she asked admiringly.She's at Ronald.Coleman was regaining his composure after a kind word and a smile on her face. "Oh, Mom, you get to know them by going to an event like this. You get to know them. That's the fun part of it. By the way, go over there." Servants in white coats are pushing tall Chinese painting screens into the hollows in the walls, revealing a long banquet hall and a long cold table piled with sumptuous dishes. Two chefs hold sharp knives Try your hand at piping hot ham and turkey.The guests came in to eat one after another, and several men, wearing sharply tailored army uniforms, stood in the group behind Madeline.She whispered to Byron that they were both characters in a military training movie Hollywood was making. "Hugh Cleveland's looking right at them," she said. "He's already received a conscription notice; if the news gets tight, he'll have to find a way to get out." She spoke bluntly, and saw her brother's face when she slipped her mouth. "Indeed, I know it's going to piss you off, but—" "How does it bother you, Madeline?" "Hugh can't get any equipment at all, Braney. He can't even sharpen a pencil. It's a total mess to ask him to carry a gun." They carry the basin to a little table on the terrace, Leonard.Spreleggen was there to keep them company, and told Madeleine something about the convention, which she jotted down in pad.Spreelegan, shrewd and unfunny, spoke with a pure New York accent.Madeline jumped to her feet and exclaimed, "Oh my God, that's the thing about the group singing with a trumpet player at the convention. I'm sorry, Lenny, I knew I forgot something. I Be right back." "What a lovely party," Rhoda said to Spreleggen, scanning the many French Impressionists hanging on the surrounding walls. "What a stately home." He was all smiles.He was a short, thin man with thick, bearded fair hair and a face like a hawk's.His voice was deep, almost a bass. "No, Mrs. Henry. I've given a tenth of my life to it, but I don't care. Harry is a hard-hearted agent. Tell me, Lieutenant, what do you think of the Second Front?" "I'm sorry, I don't understand," said Byron, eating his heaped plate. "There are four or five battlefields in sight, aren't there?" "Ah, the true nature of a soldier, and his speech is absolutely accurate!" Spreleggen nodded, and glanced shrewdly at Byron, seeing both the badge of honor and the dolphin collar badge clearly. "'Demand the immediate opening of a Second Front Commission in France against Germany' would be more correct, I think. Everyone understands what we mean. You agree, don't you?" "I don't know if it's possible now." "Well, I don't know how many military authorities are shouting about it." "If you want to talk about military authority, you have to rely on the chiefs of staff of the allied countries to count." "Exactly," said Spreleggen, speaking as if addressing a bright schoolboy. "Chiefs of staff don't dare to contradict their political heads. Economic and political motives can lead to stupid military decisions, Lieutenant. You fight wars." People must pay the price. The reactionaries want Hitler to destroy the Soviet Union first, and then to deal with Hitler. The reactionaries’ voice is strong, but the people’s voice is even stronger. Mass meetings like today’s are of great significance, and the reason is it's here." Byron shook his head and said tactfully, "I don't think that will necessarily shake the strategic decision. Why not hold a conference in solidarity with the European Jews? Such a grand publicity campaign may actually benefit them." Rhoda winked at her son.At the word "Jew," Sprelegan's eyes gleamed suddenly, his mouth tightened, and he sat upright, laying down his knife and fork on a piece of hot ham. "If you're serious—" "I'm very serious." Spreleggen spoke quickly, like a cannonball. "Really, I don't really know much about what's going on there, my friend, and I don't think any of us here really know, but the only way to end all that misery is to have a second front right away. Beat Hitler." "I understand," Byron said. "I'm sorry. It was a pleasure meeting you," Spreleggen said to Rhoda, and walked away without taking his food. Madeline immediately came over and frowned at Byron, "Look at you, Braney, we'll let you get off in front of the hotel on the way to the conference." "What's going on!" Rhoda said. "What is that for?" "He said anti-Semitic things to Lenny Sprelegan." Rhoda blinked in surprise. "What? That's it, the man is a fool, he just said—" "Forget it, Ma," Byron said. "I'll go with you." A large closed banner hangs high above the gate of the Hollywood amphitheater, with red letters on a yellow background: Americans won't come too late. Cars drive in like flowing water, and pedestrians gather to the venue from the nearby streets.However, although the entrance seemed crowded, in the huge circular venue, the audience was only sparsely gathered at the bottom of each layer of boxes near the two sides of the stage.On the elevated rear seat, the west slanting sun illuminated the rows of empty seats red.The front of the stage was draped with three great banners—the Union Jack, the Stars and Stripes, and the red flag with the yellow ax and sickle—and over it a vault of cut-out letters immediately opened the second battle.Wearing a seersucker suit and a blindfold over one eye, Tudsbury rose from his seat to kiss her.Pamela greeted people with a smiling face, but her eyes were puffy, her face was haggard, and she was almost unkempt without makeup; the girl looked like she didn't care whether she lived or died, Rhoda thought.Madeline hurried into the box.The backstage is very lively!Two of the stars withdrew from the show, and one had a strep throat, and in a frenzy rearranged the program so that Tudsbury's speech came last before the convention ended, after the group singing.Ok?Tudsbury agreed, only to say that his tone of speech would not be pleasant. "Sorry, sure, sure. You have authority," Madeleine said. "Sorry, we didn't get enough people. Charging for tickets was a mistake." She hurried away. A tiring program, part singing and dancing, accompanied by two pianos, part speeches, and a little burlesque.The highlight of the night was a song, "Reactionary Rags," with actors all dressed up as portly millionaires in top hats and tuxedos, with dollar signs on their bellies in white vests, bouncing around, hopping In the past, they kept sympathizing with the Soviet Union, and at the same time found various ridiculous reasons for refusing to send military support.What is meant by ensemble singing is that there are many characters calling out from all sides of this amphitheater--a steel worker, a farm hand, a schoolteacher, a nurse, a Negro, and so on--everyone demanding an immediate second front; The individual speeches were interspersed with solemn unanimous readings by the whole audience of excerpts from mimeographs: Pelicles, Shakespeare, Lincoln, Booker.Washington, Tom.Paine, Lenin, Stalin and Karl.Sandberg, while the band softly played "Battle Hymn of the Republic."The climax is the frenzied cry of the masses, accompanied by the trumpet, repeated with increasing intensity each time: Open up the second battlefield soon!quick!quick! The program ended with warm applause and cheers. Leonard.Spreregan made the introduction and Tudsbury limped onto the stage to a standing ovation. "Everyone must remember, June 22, 1941," his voice echoed through the loudspeakers in the huge circular square, which was half empty, as dusk came and the moonlight Dismal, "Nazi Germany invaded the Soviet Union. "On June 23, 1941, my column in the London Observer was titled "Opening a Second Front Now." The audience stood up again for this.He went on to say that the circular venue became very quiet.He began to say that it is not easy to grasp and face up to military reality.He would have to live in Moscow for a few months during the worst years of the German invasion, for a month in falling Singapore, for a week in Hawaii before and after Midway, and then he had to deal with the war. Global War understands. A major attack on the French coast in 1942, he now considered impossible.Only a handful of American recruits have yet arrived in the United States.German submarines remained a formidable and relentless obstacle to rapidly increasing the strength of this force.Conquering this threat is a protracted struggle.Immediately launching an offensive across the strait is bound to rely entirely on the strength of Britain.But Britain's power has been spread too far and is in danger of being stretched.The Battle of Singapore is proof of that!Any British action in France would have so weakened the China-Burma-India theater that the burden there would have to be borne by the United States--and the weight of it immediately--on the basis of its ability to break through Japan. The little troops sent by the fleet.This is because, if India and Australia fell to Japan, defeating Nazi Germany would not count as winning the Great War, nor would it be enough to ensure the survival of the Soviet Union. "My friends, East Asia is the center of gravity of this war," Tudsbury declared with weary firmness. "World War II started over there at Marco Polo Bridge, not in Poland. China has been fighting longer than anyone else. If Japan wins there, Russia is going to be in trouble. Japan is going to mobilize Infinite resources of India, China and the East Indies to deal with the USSR. A new yellow peril is about to rush across the borders of Siberia with tanks, Zeros and the manpower and natural resources to overwhelm the West by ten to one .The China-Burma-India battleground is a real, forgotten second battleground. We must hold on to this battleground if civilization is to be saved." At this point several people in the audience hissed. "Looks good in the long run," Tudsbury growled contemptuously. "Our soldiers who died in Singapore, your soldiers who died in the Philippines, they did not die in vain. They disrupted the timetable for the Japanese to seize India and Australia. The key to the war at hand is to buy time. Your country, productivity It's amazing, but not at full throttle right away. I wonder how little you care here about your victory at Midway. If your navy loses this battle, maybe you all Fleeing California at night. Your airmen and sailors died, they gave their lives for all mankind." Coughing sounded everywhere in the circular venue, people yawned frequently, and kept looking at their watches. "A second front in France? By the way, I'm in favor of it too. The Soviet Union is getting tougher. But the Russians are strong. They will hold on. If there are millions of valiant and high-spirited British and American troops crossing at this moment Strait, this is a beautiful sight. Unfortunately, this is a dream. When the time comes, we will overwhelm the Axis powers with a torrent of troops and firepower. Before that, we are fighting for time, for the war on many fronts. fight to turn things around, including on our domestic front. My last words on this domestic front are: Your leaders mean what they say. Believe it. Trust them. They are great men, They are fighting a great war." He limped off the stage, followed by scattered short applause and more boos.The crowd began to disperse, looking very unhappy.A rough-voiced, bald-haired man in a tawdry blouse was leaving the box next to Byron's with a pretty girl, and the man said to the girl: "Still reluctant to give up their empire, is it? All despondent words. " 塔茨伯利和梅德琳一起回到包厢，喜洋洋地说：“你瞧，这不是大大的献丑吗！” “讲得好，”拜伦说。 罗达跳起来吻他，对他说：“我永远忘不了你说的中途岛那几句话，永远忘不了，”声音颤抖。 “你的话很有道理，”梅德琳愤愤不平地说。“这班家伙就是老脑筋，永远不肯变的。也许你的话能穿透那么几个厚脑壳。我还得去收拾东西。” 梅德琳急忙走了，帕米拉也站起身来。“有趣吗，韬基？” “确实有趣，我看着他们渐渐发觉我不是他们的人，只不过又是一条草丛里的英国蛇。这使我很高兴。” “真敢说话，”罗达说。“要是帕格上台去也会那么说的——当然，不会有你这样动人的辞令。” “换了帕格，他就不肯出席这个大会，所以我才非要来说一通不可，”塔茨伯利说。“我们倒是想要见见你的，亨利太太，一起上我们旅馆去喝杯酒好吗？帕米拉和我明天就要继续飞到纽约去。” 他们往外走的时候，人群的压力把罗达挤到帕米拉身边，帕米拉悄悄跟她说了句话，说得很快。“亨利太太，我明天可以跟你吃早饭吗——就我们两人？” 第二天早上，她们两人在游泳池旁边的草地上面对面坐着，共进早餐，吃的是西瓜、烤面包片和咖啡，放在一张有轮子的、铺了台布的小桌上。这一天是纯粹的加利福尼亚天气！太阳炎热，天空蔚蓝清澈，青草和棕相的气息扑鼻，一阵清风吹来，芙蓉花矮篱上的妖冶红花便迎风摇曳。水池里边有两个青年和三个姑娘在跳水游泳，他OJ都是肤色深褐，闪闪有光，他们的打趣作乐，和鸟儿的求偶鸣叫一般欢快纯朴。帕米拉今天好看多了，脸上已经细心打扮过，头发披在耳后，波纹柔长，光泽鲜明，穿一件灰色没袖子的衣裳，袒露出她的苍白胸脯上的幽谷。罗达回想起，这位古怪的少妇，亦步亦趋地追随在她老父的左右，好象一只追随着海轮的海鸥，倒是有本事一会儿变得索然无味，一会儿变得诱人心醉。罗达觉得，也许今天早上她要去跟一个男人相会。她给人的印象是神经非常紧张。 她们随便闲聊着，罗达说起希望能得到一份塔茨伯利的讲话稿子，好寄给帕格。 “那还不容易。我准能让你得到一份。”帕米拉连忙回答，她的受过英国上流学校教育培养的语音使罗达觉得分外悦耳而为之倾倒。“那是我写的。” “是吗，它可活生生是他的笔调。” “哦，是的，他不舒服或懒得写的时候，我就给他代笔。” “戴眼罩是怎么回事，帕米拉？” “那只眼睛有溃疡病。需要动手术。我们本该已经回到伦敦了，可是听见梅德琳说起你要到西部来，我们才住下来。我急着有话要跟你讲。” “果真？是什么事呢？” “关于你的丈夫。我爱他。” 罗达一把拉下太阳眼镜，睁大两眼看着这位英国姑娘，姑娘挺直身体坐着，头抬得高高的，两眼直视，光芒逼人。罗达虽然感到惊愕、迷惆，但是依然立即清晰地感到如果帕格真正喜欢她的话，她倒真是一个可怕的敌手。罗达心想，让她说下去吧，让她把愿意说出来的事情说出来。所以罗达只是抚弄太阳眼镜，喝着咖啡，同时也瞧着她。 “我知道你曾经要离婚，”帕米拉说，“是他要求你重新考虑的。” “我已经重新考虑过了！”罗达立刻堵住这个口子。“好久以前。事情已经过去了。看起来，他已经说给你听了。” “哦，是的，亨利太太，帅B 米拉回答，神情沉郁。”是他说给我听的。 " “你跟我丈夫有过关系吗？” “不。”她们的视线相触，互相探索对方。“不，亨利太太。他一直对你忠诚，我的运气不够好。” 罗达从帕米拉的两眼中看出她说的是真情。“真的？你确是美貌惊人。” “他是个笨蛋。啪米拉肩膀微微一耸，把这句恭维话顶回去。”要是成功了的话用B 才叫美呢。不仅如此，那样一来你们二位之间也就是公平交易了。 " 这句话的声调和用字都是刺痛人的。罗达便反唇相讥：“难道你就不觉得我丈夫实在太老了吗？” “亨利太太，你丈夫在所有方面都是我生平遇见过的最迷人的男人，他对你的忠诚也包括在内，我的失败正是由于这一点。” 她声音中迸发的激情使罗达感到惊恐。她看得出帕米拉的年轻皮肤和她自己皮肤之间的区别，羡慕帕米拉的上胳膊，它是那么地苗条，惹人喜爱——罗达如今必须把自己的那一部分加以遮掩了，因为它正在变得日益臃肿，惹人讨嫌——她也妒嫉那姑娘的胸脯。她自己内心里也在小声摘咕，帕格不折不扣是个笨蛋，虽然她正为此替他祝福。“你见到过他吗——在中途岛战役以后？” “见到过，见过不知多少次啦。他内心痛苦万分，可他还是一直为你担心，不知你怎样经受这个打击，不知他怎样可以给你安慰。他甚至想过要为家中有急事告假。他撵我走，虽然我尽力要想住下去。他是个骨子里都惦念家室的男人。如果你能上夏威夷去，你就去吧。他需要你。如果我曾经有过成功的希望的话，你的儿子一死，我的希望也就完了。” 罗达用手绢擦了擦眼睛，只说了声：“可怜的帕格。” “你闹得差点儿把他丢了，真是蠢啊。我对你无法理解，我想你是做了件大蠢事，那样的事可不能再做了。”帕米拉拿起她的钱包。“你说那件事已经过去了。” “是的，是的。绝对是永远过去了。” “那就好。有一个好心人，给你丈夫写过几封匿名信，告诉他你和那男人的事。如果你找不到更好的理由使自己振作起来，这就是一条。” “嗅，上帝，”罗达禁不住哼出声来。“那些信里面说了些什么？” “你猜吧！”这是一声含有鄙夷的斥责。帕米拉放缓了语气说：“对不起，你失去了儿于我还使你伤心，但是我要求你不要再使他伤心了。我是为了这个才找你谈的。我会叫人把讲话稿给你送来。我们的飞机再过两小时就要起飞。” “你能答应我以后再不跟我丈夫见面吗？” 帕米拉脸上绷紧了一道道难看的线条。她对着罗达伸出来的手——手指又瘦又长，布满皱纹，倔强有力——沉默不语，然后横眉相对。“那办不到。未来是无法 控制的。但是我现在不妨碍你了，这一点你可以放心。”她掉过头去看看那几个小 伙子，他们正在池边擦干身体，笑个不停，她的态度也变得温柔了。“我们这一次谈话挺古怪，是吗？一次战时的谈话。” “你使我大吃一惊，”罗达说。 两人都站起来。 “还有一件事情，”帕米拉说。“我只和你的儿于华伦见过一面。那是在他从夏威夷出发作战之前。他周身都有一道奇怪的光芒，亨利太太。这可不是我的想象，我爸爸也感觉到的。他简直象是超凡入圣。你经受了一个惨痛的损失。不过你们还有两个了不起的孩子。我希望你和你丈夫会相互安慰，并且过些时候以后会重新快乐幸福。帅B 米拉动作迅速利索，吻了一下罗达的面颊，便急忙走出了花园。 罗达走向一只太阳直晒的躺椅，倒了下去，一半是因为她惊讶得六神无主。帕格什么时候在信里说起过帕米拉的？一九四0 年从伦敦的来信中；一九四一年底从莫斯科的来信中；再就是最近从夏威夷的来信中。当然，华盛顿也是这父女俩常来常往之处。中途岛战役之前在一封说起莫亚那饭店那次宴会的信中，帕格曾经提到“塔茨伯利姑娘”面带病容，因为得了痢疾。 可怜的帕格！这是掩饰伪装吗？还是尽力克制他受到压抑的内心中浪漫波动呢？ 游泳池此刻空无一人，罗达在那粼粼碧波里看见了一幅幅图景，有如占卜的在水晶球里所见：在那一处处遥远的地方，帕格和帕米拉两人朝夕会面，没有床第私情，甚至于连接吻拥抱的举动都没有，而只是相偕相伴，日复一日，夜复一夜，远离家人，在数千英里之外。这个女人脸上的别有滋味的会心微笑，活脱是已经抓住了亚当什么把柄的一个夏娃的写照。她觉得，帕米拉所说的故事确是天衣无缝，但是帕格这老家伙不可能会是象她所描述的那么一个圣洁的汉子。罗达懂得的要多一点。Pamela.塔茨伯利内心燃烧的那种激情并非自燃之物。帕格曾经以某种方式，或明或暗地，挑逗过这姑娘。也许他确实使这关系处于精神境界，这样他就可以攫取一份自命清高的美德，加以享用；也许他们已经一起睡过觉。这很难说。至于帕米拉的眼神是否老实，凡是老实的眼神，罗达没看不出来的。 那些匿名信真可怕，叫人不敢去想。哪一个促狭鬼干的事儿？无论如何，她的自惭形秽之身和她丈夫之间的差距是缩小了，这毕竟是她做梦也想不到的。她对帕米拉是又妒又怕；帕格也就更加值得占有了。她一反常态，对那头不声不响的老狗感到一阵热呼呼的性欲冲动。那姑娘的矢口否认当然是毫无意义的。帕格把帕米拉撵开，这跟她想和巴穆。、柯比分手没什么两样。他们两人之间到底有过一些什么勾当，她也许永远没法知道。她可不可以自己问他呢，这倒是一个很费思量的策略问题。 她在躺椅上猛然一惊，这才想起刚才这一会儿她竟忘掉华伦已经死了。