  And then it came—right out of a clear sky—the order that was to change the entire course of Gale’s life. She got a slight inkling of what was coming from the little Burmese nurse, Than Shwe. Like some frightened bird Than Shwe came dancing into Gale’s room just as she was preparing for lunch. “I have a secret,” she chanted. “Little Than Shwe has a secret. She would tell, if she dared, but she dare not.” “Oh! A secret?” Gale was at once torn between her love for the little nurse and her desire to know the secret, especially if it happened to concern her own life. “Tell me, Than Shwe,”—she spoke as quietly as possible—“Does your secret have anything to do with me?” “I do not know for sure.” Than Shwe spoke slowly. “I am quite sure it does—yes—and for Isabelle and Jan too—it may be terribly important.” “Oh! Isabelle and Jan?” Gale caught her breath. She recalled the request they had signed and had sent to the colonel several days before. She did not dare hope the request had been granted. No more did she dare press Than Shwe for a more definite answer. The little Burmese girl, she knew, had a heart of gold! A little teasing, and— “No!” she told herself. “It would never do. A military secret is not to be toyed with.” So she asked no more questions. “I’ll see you tonight. I think perhaps at nine—perhaps later.” With this final bit of mysterious information and a teasing smile, Than Shwe danced out of the room. Gale’s head was in a whirl. Was the big moment near at hand? Were all her dreams to come true? She dared not hope. She ate very little lunch. She was too excited to eat. She drank three pots of very strong coffee. Just as she was preparing to leave Isabelle joined her. There was a strangely sober look on her friend’s round, rosey face. “Suppressed excitement,” Gale read it, and was at once more excited than ever. “Colonel kept me overtime,” Isabelle explained, staring at the menu. “Toast,” she ordered. “A banana. Some cookies and tea—a large pot of black tea.” “What? You too?” Gale exclaimed. “Than Shwe has me all excited.” She spoke in a casual tone. “And now you seem lost in a dream. Than Shwe seems to have a secret. What about you?” “A secret? Oh, yes,” said Isabelle, absentmindedly. “I shouldn’t wonder.” Nothing more was said until Isabelle’s lunch arrived. Even then Isabelle appeared to be thinking out loud when she spoke. “Can you imagine being cool, really cold, after a month of this terrible heat of India?” she asked. Gale could not, and said so. “Well, try it,” said Isabelle. “Why?” “I’ll tell you later.” “Oh! Go to Boston! No one has any sense today!” Gale exclaimed. “Perhaps it’s the heat. I’ll try thinking about being cold. The shores of a northern lake deep in the evergreen forest—wild duck—perhaps a moose—way back in Michigan.” She laughed as she rose and hurried away. “I’ll drive out to see Mac,” Gale told herself. “Mac is always so sober and matter-of-fact about things.” She found him directing the placing of a new anti-aircraft gun. “So Mac isn’t going,” she thought. Her heart seemed to sink. She liked Mac and had counted on working with him for a long time. They made a good team, she thought. And then it occurred to her that she was on the wrong track—that she herself was going nowhere. She thought of something else. “Mac!” she exclaimed. “I haven’t found that third secret of radar, and I think—that is, I hope maybe I’m going on sort of a trip.” Mac straightened up suddenly. “What? You think—” He stopped short, stared at her, and then in a changed voice said: “Forget the third secret of radar! You’re as bad as the colored soldier in the first World War who was looking for his arm that had been blown off. When they told him the arm couldn’t be put back, he said, ‘Yas sir. I know dat. But thar’s a thirty dollar wrist watch on that arm!’” Mac laughed at his own joke. Then he said: “This is war. You can’t expect to get everything back when a block buster drops close to you.” “Oh—I—” “I’m sorry,” Mac interrupted. “I’ve got to get this gun in place before—” He caught himself, and did not finish. “Nice crowded little world,” the girl told herself. “I’m going back to the Club and sit in a corner until something happens.” But she didn’t—at least, not for long. Scarcely had she downed a glass of limeade, made with real limes, when Isabelle came rushing in to seize her by the arm and drag her up toward their room. “Orders!” Isabelle whispered, flapping a paper in the air. “Marching orders.” At that Gale nearly collapsed on the stairs. “What does it mean?” she gasped, when at last they were in their room with the door fast closed. “Let me see the orders.” Without a word Isabelle handed her the paper. The order was directed to Gale alone. Isabelle had received hers straight from the colonel himself. As she read, Gale’s eyes widened. First there were some words of commendation for her—“Efficient and valiant service.” Then came the orders. These were brief and to the point. She was to be prepared to leave the city by car that night for a “protracted absence, perhaps months. You will travel with Isabelle, Jan and Than Shwe.” She read on: “Isabelle, Jan, Than Shwe!” she exclaimed. “How grand! But tell me!” she demanded, turning to Isabelle, “Is this IT?” “This, as far as I can see, is it,” was the solemn reply. “The colonel told me nothing, just gave me my marching orders. But to himself he said, ‘We’re going back. At last, by God, we’re going back! And we’ve got power!’” “The power and the glory,” Gale whispered. “He didn’t say ‘and the glory’. I don’t believe he ever thinks of that,” was Isabelle’s solemn reply. “He’s a real soldier. All he wants is men, machines and power.” There was little more to Gale’s orders. She was to take with her only such personal belongings as were necessary. These were to be carried on their own car which Jan was to drive. Their bedding and equipment, radar equipment and all else would go by truck. “And Mac?” she said to Isabelle? “Is he going?” “Mac is going,” was the quiet reply. “Please don’t ask me more.” No more was asked, and indeed, there was little time for talking. They launched themselves at once into the task of sorting and packing,—a real job. They had been in India four months. In that time they had collected a considerable treasure, rare silk gowns, carved ivory gods, green jade, and much else. All these must be stored away in lockers. “When will we be back?” Gale asked. “Perhaps never,” was the solemn response. And so they sifted, sorted and packed, sorted, sifted and packed again, until at last one modest sized duffle bag apiece held all that would go with them. Darkness was falling when they had finished. “It’s dinner time!” Gale exclaimed. “How I wish Jimmie were here to spend these last hours of the big city with me!” “Jimmie? Oh, yes,—that Ferry Command boy,” Isabelle murmured absent mindedly. In the end, the four of them, Gale, Isabelle, Jan and Than Shwe had dinner together in a neat little place around the corner. It was run by a Chinaman. “We’re headed for China,” said Isabelle. “Might as well get used to Chinese cooking.” “How about cooking Japan?” Jan asked. “That will take time,” Isabelle laughed. “My destination is Tokio,” said Gale, quoting Jimmie. “But I don’t expect to eat there. Instead, I hope to spoil Tojo’s dinner for him.” “That’s the stuff!” Jan exclaimed. “By golly! That’s the stuff!” Than Shwe threw back her small head with a merry laugh as she repeated,—“By golly, yes! That’s the stuff!” An hour after dark they stole like fugitives from the Club. No noise, no confusion, no congratulations, no cheering. Truth was, very few knew they were going, and those few were faithfully silent. “The army is not going now,” Isabelle confided to Gale. “Just a selected few of us to prepare the way.” “A selected few,” Gale’s heart swelled with pride. To Isabelle she said, with a laugh, “We’ll make roads, build bridges, all that, I suppose?” “All that!” Isabelle’s tone was impressive. “All that has been done. You’ll be amazed. Oh, no! I’ve never been there, but I can see it all the same. “We’ll steal out of the city like ships going out to join a convoy,” she whispered as she and Gale climbed into the rear seat of Jan’s jeep. “There’ll be a dozen cars in our section,—the colonel, his guard, and a few others. A convoy of trucks will leave by another road. Other cars will strike out by themselves. In the end, when we’re a hundred miles on our way, we’ll discover that there are quite a lot of us after all.” “Fascinating!” Gale murmured. All of a sudden Gale’s eyes caught something that brought her up short. In the shadows she had caught sight of a familiar figure. “The woman in purple,” she whispered to herself. Oddly enough, she found herself filled with consternation. “Seems like an ill omen,” she told herself. “Like the croaking of a raven, or a black cat crossing your path.” Then she received a second shock. The woman in purple was joined by a very thin man in a long, dark robe. He had appeared like a dark ghost. Perhaps he had been there all the time. She watched them intently while they exchanged a few words. Then they started to move away. Gale watched and shuddered. The tall thin man walked as if he were a little lame in both feet. At once Gale’s mind went speeding back to those strange startling hours in the temple. Was this the same man? What was his relation to the woman in purple? Were they both spies? Would she ever see them again? In the midst of this questioning she felt the car start. The mysterious pair passed from her view, and they were on their way. Did some wise little gremlin whisper, “You haven’t seen the last of that pair!”? If he did, Gale was too full of excitement to hear him. It was to be all of that in the end. The beginning of this long, long journey was very much like driving out of Chicago for an evening spin. Their car was different, that was all. The road was smooth. They sped past homes where evening lamps were alight. Here and there they swung to one side to pass cars going in the opposite direction. “Wouldn’t it seem strange,” Isabelle murmured, “if we were to turn about after a bit and drive back only to find ourselves in our own home town, in America!” “I’ll say it would!” Gale’s voice was strange. “Would you like it?” Isabelle asked. There came no answer for a moment. Then in slow, even tones, Gale said: “No. I wouldn’t like it a bit. This is my destiny. I’m in it to the finish, and wouldn’t miss it for worlds. “Tokio,” she whispered softly, “is my destination.” And she really meant it. |
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