Lovely War(33)

“Got paper? Staff-lined paper?”

He shook his head. “No, sir, Lieutenant, sir.”

“This is gonna get old in a hurry,” Europe muttered to Captain Fish. “Edwards. Stop by my quarters tonight, and I’ll give you paper. You can show me your ‘Reveille Blues.’” He glanced up at the rest of the barrack. “An announcement, for those of you in the band. We’ve been invited to give an opening concert, two nights from now, at one of the YMCA relief huts. Hut One.” He smiled. “Our reputation precedes us.”

Joey scratched his head. “A concert in a hut?”

Captain Fish smiled. “They’re huge. Wait till you see. They’re recreation spots for the soldiers, after hours. Games and shows, coffee and books, lectures, music, that sort of thing.”

Smiles and nods welcomed this bit of news. They hadn’t anticipated recreation.

Lieutenant Europe and Captain Fish exchanged a look. “The Negro Y hut,” Lieutenant Europe said, “is in Camp Lusitania. We’ll rehearse there tonight at seven.”

Segregated recreation.

“Now clear out of here,” Captain Fish said, “and get some food.”

Aubrey decided to risk a question. “Sir, Captain, sir!”

“Yes, Private?”

“When do we fight the Germans, sir?”

Captain Fish cast a quick glance at Lieutenant Europe. “Not for a while. We’re pretty far from the Front. This is Saint-Nazaire, the American military training base on the coast of France.”

“When do we meet French girls? Ooh là là!” said Joey. The others laughed.

“None of that,” ordered Fish.

A grumble rose from the men. They were already bitter about a US Army rule forbidding black soldiers from having contact with white women overseas.

“Now, look,” Fish said. “I’m not talking about that. They’ve got no right to tell you whose company you can keep, or what color it can be. But none of you has time for girls. And we can’t have you sick. I want no disease in this company! Now, we’ve got a full day ahead of us. We’re going to be digging a dam while we’re here and laying miles of railroad track.”

They all froze.

Jesús Hernandez, clarinet, couldn’t hide his disappointment. “Labor work?” He wasn’t alone. “I mean, sir, Captain, sir?”

“We came here to fight the Huns, Captain Fish,” said Herb Simpson, vocals. “Just like Lieutenant Europe said. To keep the world safe for democracy.”

Aubrey’s mother always said he never knew when to keep his big mouth shut.

“You said, sir,” he said, “that this regiment wasn’t gonna be like the other colored ones. Hauling freight, and digging roads, and cooking, and that sort of thing.”

Joey made a slashing motion at his throat. Asking a question was one thing, but challenging an officer could mean discipline. Or court-martial.

But Aubrey was too far gone. “We could’ve done digging and hauling work back in New York. You said this regiment would get its chance to fight for America, and make the nation proud of its black soldiers. Change the way they see us back in the States.”

Now he’d done it. He held his chin high and thrust out his chest. Dignity and pride.

“You’re right, Private. I did say that.” Captain Fish’s voice was calm but firm. “This regiment will accomplish great things for our nation and your race. You’ve all shown remarkable discipline at Camp Wadsworth and Camp Dix, in the face of shameful prejudice. I’m confident your courage and discipline will carry you far when we get to the Front.” He scrubbed a weary hand across his forehead. “Now go eat breakfast before they feed what’s left to the pigs.”

Aubrey exhaled at last. He wasn’t in trouble. Hallelujah.

“We’ll get to that Front before long,” Herbert Simpson said.

The captain replied in a low voice, more to himself than anyone else. “We will,” he said, “if I have anything to say about it.” He left, and the other soldiers filed out behind him.

Aubrey felt a tug at his elbow. Lieutenant Europe pulled him out of line and around the corner of the building and fixed him with his penetrating stare.

“You’re a smart one,” Europe said, “and if you want to last in the military, you’d best learn to be smart about how you use that smart mouth of yours.”

Aubrey’s face burned, even in the cold.

“Smart means knowing when to talk and when to shut up.” His mouth twitched. “Even if you’re right.”

Aubrey tried not to smile. “Yes, sir, Lieutenant, sir.”

Europe clapped a hand on Aubrey’s shoulder. “You come get paper tonight, you hear?”

Aubrey smiled.

“Let’s go eat, Private,” Europe said. “You can’t dig a dam on blues alone.”

Aubrey laughed. “You shouldn’t swear like that, sir.”

They followed their comrades’ footprints in the snow to the mess hall, then waded through a haze of coffee-and-burnt-egg steam to where Aubrey’s K Company stood in line for oatmeal.

“Well, if it ain’t the Coon Platoon.” A slow Southern voice spoke behind them.

They turned to see two soldiers watching them with folded arms and narrowed eyes. Aubrey curled his fingers tightly around the empty bowl in his hand. The nerves in his shoulders twanged. A vein in Joey’s temple throbbed.