There was a good omen at Chambers Publishing. When she went into the newsroom and called her father's office on the tie-line to Atlanta, his secretary told her he was in Washington. He was right there in the office-and torn between pleasure and annce when he saw her. noya "You're a little off your beat, aren't you, honey?" he asked.
"Well, since you got me the job, Daddy," Ann said, "I thought it only fair that I hand my resignation to you."
"May I ask why?"
"Since you won't send me overseas, I'm going to get a job that will."
"We've been over this before," he said. "I remember."
"This has something to do with Dick Canidy?"
"Yes, it does."
"He went overseas and you want to follow him, is that it?"
"I didn't say that," she said. "You didn't have to," he said, "But the point is, I simply cannot send you overseas. The War Department allocates the spaces. Every war correspondent has to be housed and fed.
I've got good men I'd love to have over there, and I cannot justify sending you in place of one of them."
"I thought that's what you would say," she said.
"Which is Why I'm resigning."
"And you think you can get someone else to send you?" he asked. His clear implication was that she was dreaming. "I'll send you a postcard from London," she said.
"Who's going to send you to Europe?"
"Lots of people," Ann said. "Hey, for every guy you might charm into giving you a job," he said, "I know two senior editors who will be happy to do me a favor by not giving you a job. Don't get too big for your britches, missy."
"How about Gar diner Cowles?" she said immediately.
"You think he'd do you that kind of favor?" She saw from his look that the lie could not possibly have been a better choice. The Cowles Publishing Company published, among others, a Life-like photo magazine called Look. Since her father and Gar diner Cowles had been warring for years, he apparently immediately concluded that Gar diner Cowles had offered her a job just to make him angry. Now that I think about it, the sonofabitch is perfectly capable of doing just that! "Just for the sake of argument, what would Gar diner Cowles have you doing?"
Brandon Chambers asked, making a valiant effort to sound only mildly curious.
"Women's-interest things, the WACS, the WAVES, and whatever it is they're going to call the lady Marines," Ann said. "And you would really work for Gar diner Cowles?" he asked. "I would work for the Daily Worker if they agreed to send me to Europe," Ann said. "You don't mean that," he said. "I'll try to get home before I go," Ann said. They locked eyes for a moment, and then Brandon Chambers said, "Greg Lohmer, who runs our radio stations, is sending a news announcer, a man named Meachurn Hope, over to London from WI(KL in New Orleans.
He'll make a nightly broadcast via shortwave which all the stations will carry. Greg Lohmer says the fellow has a splendid voice but some difficulty with basic journalism. He'll need somebody to write his scripts. If I could somehow arrange to send you over there to write his scripts-call you a technician or something, maybe administrative assistant-would you be interested?"
"Gar diner Cowles," Ann said, "is arranging for my correspondent's accreditation right now. How can he do that if you can't?"
"Why don't I call him and ask?" he said. "Why don't you?" Ann said.
"It would have to be clearly understood between us, Ann," her father said, in conditional surrender, "that you would be going over there to write Meachurn Hope's scripts."
"Until other arrangements can be made," Ann said.
"Thank you, Daddy."
"I don't know how I'm going to explain this to your mother," he said.
"You're a very clever man, Daddy. You'll think of something."
AK ONE I Croydon Airfield London, England August 7, 1942
It was raining softly but steadily when the Curtiss Commando with Naval Air Transport Command lettered along its fuselage landed. When they stopped on a taxiway and just sat there, Canidy went forward to the cockpit to see what was g
oing on. Making it plain he resented being questioned, the pilot told Canidy he had been ordered by the tower, without explanation, to hold where he was. This wasn't the first trouble the pilot had given them. He was a regular navy full commander who Canidy suspected had put in a lot of time flying long, slow Catalina patrols before the war had promoted him to pilot in command of transoceanic NATC aircraft. The pep talk ONI had given the man in Washington hadn't taken very well, Even before they left Washington he had made it plain that so far as he was concerned, this flight to carry some foreign admiral, his tiny staff, and a handful of relatively junior American officers to London was a typical Washington boondoggle diverting an important aviator like himself and his important aircraft from making an important contribution to the important war being fought in the Pacific. Between Gander, Newfoundland, and Prest wick, Scotland, their European landfall, Canidy had gone forward to offer to relieve one of the pilots at the controls. "Do you have any time in the C-46, Major?" the pilot had asked. "About twenty hours," Canidy said.