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Marine's Thanksgiving By MEREDITH CARR
thè cry that would sound in his ears • as long as life lasted. He felt a ter rible haunting fear that he never . .. would find the answer. He had thought he’d found it in the Church that morning, in t h e Thanksgiving service. He had heard “ the jsong,” and it had pulled him through the_doorway to take h is place with the vast congregation. It was the song Tom had played for the boys in the cold hours of dark ness as their ship moved toward Sai- pan. But Mike’s hope had been short lived—exchanged for a helpless sort of fury as he listened to the mini ster’s beautifully, phrased platitudes on being thankful. Sure, he w a s tjiankful, Donovan had thought bit terly. Hadn’t he dreamed of all the things the minister was enumerating: home, freedom, loved ones, peace? It was this that had kept the fellows going much of the time in the heat and . grime of the jungles. But that hadn’t helped Bruce when he was dying. And it hadn’t given him, Mike Donovan, any words with which to answer Bruce’s cry. Near-by chimes recalled Mike to the hour. He’d have to hurry now or he’d be late for that dinner. What had possessed him to sign up .at the U.S.O. for Thanksgiving dinner in a stranger’s home? Purposely he had delayed his trip to his own home until Thanksgiving was past. He had felt in no mood for the reception that would be given him by his family, knowing instinctively that he could not hope to find there the help that he needed. He wondered briefly what [ Continued on Page 391] 1
O .E R G E A N T MIKE DONOVAN felt 'a n g r y a n d cheated. As he II. ) walked away from the church his resentment moved to the crowd that had a moment before been a part of the congregation,' now hurrying along the walk—each intent on his ‘ plans for Thanksgiying Day. W a s there none there who could help him? Were'they all as complacently self-* satisfied as they appeared: w e l l - dressed, well-fed, apparently u n- moved by the violence of a world at war? ‘Thad such a time finding a turkey this year!” he heard one woman ex claim. “I know,” her companion answered, “ and Thanksgiving just wouldn’t b e Thanksgiving without a turkey!” “I’ve a simply gorgeous dress for the party tonight.” Two girls pushed past him. “Hmmmm-rl see the Ma rines have landed,” one of them whis pered, nudging her companion and raising dark eyes to Mike’s in una bashed approval. All in- one swift glance, she took in the khaki-green cap perched jauntily on his dark red hair; his intent brown eyes, more worried than a Marine’s ought to be; his tall figure; the campaign ribbons and wound stripe. There had been a time when Mike Donovan would have been quick to respond to such interest as this on the part of a pretty girl."Life, then, had-been a conquest of fun. But that wouldn’t help him now. He had tried it the first few days out of the hos pital, filling each day with a round of so-called pleasure which had not been pleasure at all. It had not erased even for a moment, the memory of a beachhead in the south Pacific and
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