Last One Home by Shari J. Ryan

Author:Shari J. Ryan [Ryan, Shari J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781736387658
Publisher: Shari J. Ryan

27

January 1942

About a month has passed since the attack on Pearl. Life as we once knew it has yet to return to any sort of normalcy. I’m not sure it ever will ever feel quite the same.

I have been temporarily assisting at the Naval hospital, waiting on initial orders from the Army Nurse Corps. The enlisted men are all still working never-ending days to repair and replace the abundance of damage. I have been wondering if they might be luckier than the rest of us on base with so much work to focus on. The busier we are, the less time there is to think about what is happening to the world.

Each day, I take a bagged lunch to the shaded area down the street to relieve my head of the commotion inside the hospital. Unfortunately, I can’t escape the noises that haunt me the most because they live within my mind. If I could plug my ears to make the explosions and cries stop, I would, but I’d still see the horrific images playing before my eyes. There is nowhere to look without a reminder of the attack.

Even after a month, the shrapnel is still in piles within the grass, beneath the curbs, and even on roofs. The worst visual is watching mothers and children walk by with gas masks dangling from their hands. The military has issued all of us protective gear in case there is another air raid or poison gas attack. To witness a drill is like taking a blow to the stomach, and it makes me question how life can have so little meaning.

The military oversees everything in the state of Hawaii. Our freedom that we have enjoyed feels like a distant memory, and though it’s for our protection, many of us silently feel like prisoners in the place we call home. I want to wake up and find this all to have been a nightmare, but when I open my eyes each morning, I realize that the time I spend asleep is my only escape.

Saturdays are like every other day of the week now, but we all sleep in for an extra hour in the morning. Today might be an exception, however, because Dad is having an indiscreet conversation on the telephone. It’s rare to hear him speaking so loudly to anyone, never mind this early in the day. My silk French robe, a hand-me-down from Mom that Dad brought her after returning from Europe during the first World War, is hanging over the upholstered armchair within reach. I wrap myself up snuggly, protecting my warm skin from the mild draft whirling around. Once my feet are snug within my house slippers, I tip-toe down the hallway to listen in on the conversation Dad is doing little to hide.

“Yes, Captain, I agree and understand. Of course, the timing isn’t favorable for either of us. However, I agree Lieutenant Anderson is the best candidate for this position. I will meet with the colonel today to discuss this transition.

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