"It is."
"All right, then," she said. "And I don't want you talking to anybody-even Eddie or your girlfriend-" "Mrs. Edwin Howell Bitter, you mean?" Ann said. "Goddamn it, I'm serious."
"I know," she said.
"Okay, Daddy, you've made your point."
"I really hope so, Ann," he said. Thirty minutes later, Ann walked into the office of the Advocate's managing editor and told him her father wanted her to come to Washing ton for a couple of days, and she was thinking of going Saturday afternoon after they'd gotten most of the Sunday edition to bed. She hated to ask, but if she could have a business travel priority certificate for an airplane ticket, that would get her back to work that much quicker. "Yeah, sure, Ann," he said.
"We can work that out." Being in love does strange things to you.
Sofar this morning I have tied to an Episcopal priest, my father, and my boss.
And I'm not at all ashamed of myself Then she called Sarah Child Bitter at the Willard Hotel in Washington and announced that she would be in Washington on Saturday and needed a place to stay. Sarah and Ed Bitter were living in Sarah's father's suite in the Willard. Ed was probably going to be more than a little annoyed when she showed up, since they had been married only a few days. Having Ann around would be like having your sister on your honeymoon. To hell with him, Ann thought.
He owes me for taking care of Sarah.
[ ONE I Lakehurst Naval Air Station Labehurst, New Jersey June 27, 1942
While Canidy was doing the preflight on the Beech D18S, Commander Reynolds's Plymouth staff car drove into the hangar and stopped bes
ide the aircraft. "I didn't know where you were going, Major," he said.
"But I thought you could use a thermos of coffee and a couple of sandwiches."
"Washington," Canidy told him.
"Thank you." Commander Reynolds was impressed.
There is something about Washington that impresses professional naval officers, Canidy thought, as if the place were the residence of God.
"I'm glad you're here," Canidy went on.
"I didn't know about starting the engines inside the hangar."
"We push aircraft to the center lane," Reynolds said, "and make sure that both hangar doors are open. Then you might as well be outside.
You've already been refueled."
"I noticed," Canidy said.
"Thank you."
"Sailor," Reynolds said somewhat pompously to his driver, "would You round up some men to push the major's aircraft?"
"Aye, aye, Sir," the white hat said. Canidy winked at him, and he lie N smiled back, as if to say that it was all right, Reynolds was a little salty, but a good guy. Canidy climbed into the Beech, released the brakes, and strapped the thermos and the bag of sandwiches in the copilot's seat. He wasn't going to need the sandwiches between Lakehurst and Washington, but it had been a nice thing for Reynolds to do. He started to leave the cockpit, when the airplane lurched. A half dozen white hats had started to push it to the center of the hangar. He went aft and closed the door, then returned to the cockpit and strapped himself in. He saw another pair of white hats roll up an enormous fire extinguisher on what looked like wagon wheels. The plane stopped moving.
Canidy looked at the window.
"Clear!" he called. "Clear!" one of the white hats called back.
Canidy set the mixture, primed the port engine, and hit the engine start switch. The starter whined and then the port engine bucked, backfired, and finally caught. He started the other and looked out the window.
Commander Reynolds was standing there with his fist balled, thumb up.
Canidy smiled and gave him the gesture back, whereupon Commander Reynolds saluted. Canidy smiled again, returned the salute, and advanced the throttles. Once he was clear of the hangar, he got on the radio and asked for taxi and takeoff instructions. "Navy Six-one-one," the tower replied," you are cleared to taxi to the threshold of runway nine. Hold on the threshold. We have an aircraft on final." The aircraft on final was a Curtiss C-46. Canidy thought he was coming in way too high, and he was right. "Six-one-one," the tower promptly announced, "hold your position. The forty-six is going around."
"Six-one-one, roger," Canidy said. He followed the C-46 with his eyes as it rose again and made a low turn over the pine barrens. It glistened in the sunlight. A new one, Canidy thought. The next time the C-46 came around at an altitude Canidy saw was much too low. He was right again.