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The Sea Before Us Page 32


  “Means ‘eagle.’” Not only was it true, but it was easier than saying it was his mother’s maiden name, given to appease her parents when she died birthing her second son.

  Westin’s dark eyes crinkled around the edges. “Born to fly, huh?”

  “Sure was.”

  “Good trait in a wingman.”

  Wingman? Adler’s heart stilled. But jostling for position was all part of the game.

  Wasn’t it?

  It wasn’t. Shapiro nodded. “You’ll be Westin’s wingman. Figured he’d be the right man to teach you to work as a team.”

  A punch to the gut. Wingmen didn’t make ace. They were sidekicks. Second class. Never first.

  Adler threw on a smile. Nothing to be gained from pouting, and he could learn a few tricks from the veteran. “Looking forward to it. The major says you made a name for yourself in the Pacific. Reckon you have some stories.”

  “Sure do.”

  After Shapiro introduced Fenelli, the big, swaggering desk jockey, Adler excused himself to return his flight gear to the equipment shed.

  Westin fell in beside him. “So where are you from? Somewhere down South?”

  “Texas. And you?” The man’s accent pegged him as a Yankee.

  “Indiana. Prettiest land you’ve ever seen.” Westin waxed on about the farms and the small town where his family ran a feedlot. Three sisters, two brothers, the prettiest wife, and the prettiest baby girl.

  Fighter pilots loved to talk, and Adler loved to encourage them. He’d tell flying stories of his own to entertain, then toss out questions before things got personal.

  “How about you?” Westin snugged his cap farther down over his dark hair. “Come from a big family too?”

  Out of the sun and into his nightmares. He hadn’t talked about his family in over two years, and he wasn’t about to start now. Tell people he’d tried to kill his older brother Wyatt for accidentally causing Oralee’s death? Tell people his younger brother Clay had tried to kill Adler later that same night? Not in a million years.

  Instead he raised a rueful smile and snatched his set answer from the shelf. “Not all families are happy.”

  Westin’s eyelids rose, then settled low in compassion. “So what do you think of the P-39? I flew the P-40 out of New Guinea. Got any pointers? Heard she’s dangerous in a stall.”

  Adler liked the man already. “She can be. We’ve lost four pilots in stalls. You’ve got to keep a cool head.”

  Yes, the deflection shot was Adler’s specialty.

  New York City, New York

  Tuesday, November 23, 1943

  This wasn’t how Violet Lindstrom had dreamed of sailing overseas.

  On the pier in New York Harbor, Violet tried not to lose sight of her fellow Red Cross workers among the thousands of soldiers, but her eyes were drawn to the HMT Queen Elizabeth.

  Designed to be the most luxurious ocean liner in the world, she had never fulfilled her purpose. Instead, she’d been painted a dull gray and outfitted to pack in over ten thousand troops.

  Violet sighed, her unfulfilled longing echoing that of the great ship.

  “Are you all right, Violet?”

  She smiled down at her new friend, Kitty Kelly. “I couldn’t be happier.”

  “Liar.” Kitty winked a pretty brown eye. “I know homesickness when I see it.”

  Violet tightened her grip on her suitcase. How could she already be homesick? She who dreamed of being a missionary in Africa?

  Kitty’s teasing gaze wouldn’t let up.

  So Violet chuckled. “I’ll be fine when we get to work in England.”

  “I can’t wait to find out where the Red Cross assigns us.”

  “Me too.” Violet latched on to her friend’s eagerness. With her teaching experience, surely she’d be assigned to work with refugee children or orphans. What a lovely way to serve the Lord.

  Winnie Nolan glanced back at Violet and Kitty. “I’m hoping for an Aeroclub. Sure wouldn’t mind meeting a bunch of dashing pilots.” She nodded toward a dozen men in olive drab overcoats and the misshapen “crush caps” favored by airmen.

  “I’d rather work at one of the service clubs.” Jo Radley adjusted her steel helmet. “Can you imagine living in London? How thrilling.”

  Violet refrained from wrinkling her nose. Entertaining the able-bodied wasn’t serving.

  “Lookie here.” One of the flyboys worked his way through the crowd, a dark-haired man in need of a shave. “The Red Cross is here to see us off. Where are the donuts, girls?”

  “On the other side of the Atlantic,” Jo said with a wink.

  “How about a kiss instead?”

  “You’re more likely to get a donut, pal.” Kitty spread an empty hand and a saucy smile. “And as you can see—no donuts.”

  His buddies crowded around, and Violet eased back, glad girls like Kitty could banter.

  The pilot slapped a hand over his chest. “Aw, have a heart. We’re going to war. We might not come home.”

  Kitty gave Violet a nudge and a mock pout. “Wouldn’t that be a shame?”

  “Come on. A fellow needs something to remember the good old US of A.” His gaze drifted up to Violet. “Say, I’ve never kissed an Amazon.”

  And he never would. She ignored the sting of the familiar barb and opened her mouth to tell him . . . something.

  But he grabbed her head, yanked her down, and slammed a kiss onto her mouth. Wet, warm, awful.

  She pushed against his chest, but he wouldn’t budge. Masculine laughter and feminine protests filled her ears, and everything inside her recoiled. Where was the Red Cross chaperone when she needed him?

  Someone wrenched the man away. “What on earth are you doing, Riggs?”

  Violet hunched over and wiped her mouth with the back of her sleeve.

  “Just getting a good-bye kiss.”

  “Not by force, you numbskull.” Her rescuer had a Texas drawl. “Whatever made you think a pretty girl like her would want to kiss your ugly mug?”

  Violet kept scrubbing at her mouth as if she could scrub away the humiliation.

  “Here, sweetie.” Kitty handed her a handkerchief. “You’ll ruin your coat.”

  Oh no. Red lipstick smeared the sleeve of her charcoal gray Red Cross topcoat. How would she get it out?

  “Listen up, boys.” The Texan had to be their commanding officer. “These ladies are going overseas too. They’re serving their country. Y’all will treat them with respect, first as ladies and second for wearing a uniform. Is that clear?”

  The men grumbled their agreement.

  “Now, apologize to her, Riggs.”

  Violet kept her head bent, the handkerchief over her mouth, her eyes scrunched shut.

  “Sorry, miss.”

  “Apology accepted,” she mumbled.

  “Now, y’all get along,” the Texan said.

  Footsteps shuffled away.

  “They’re gone now.” Kitty massaged Violet’s lower back.

  “Are you all right, miss?” A big hand rested on her shoulder. The Texan? Hadn’t he left with the others?

  Violet dragged her gaze from his brown oxfords up his olive drab overcoat to sky-blue eyes right at her level. “I—I’m fine.”

  A smile twitched on his handsome face. “You will be. Any woman strong enough to meet Red Cross standards can handle one unwelcome kiss.”

  She tried to return his smile. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate your help.”

  “Anytime, miss. They give you any more trouble, send for me.”

  It would be handy to know a high-ranking officer. “Your name, sir?”

  He swept off his cap and bowed his head, revealing sunny blond hair. “Lt. Adler Paxton, at your service.”

  A lieutenant? He held the same rank as the others. Why had they listened to him? “You must be a married man.”

  His head jerked up. “Why—why would you say that?”

  She held herself straighter, her dignity returning. “I’ve found marri
ed men are more chivalrous. Your wife is blessed.”

  “I’m not . . .” His eyelids sagged, clouding the blue. “Was engaged once.”

  Was? Her mouth drifted open, full of questions.

  Then he flashed a grin. “Pleasure meeting you, miss.” And he was gone.

  Gone before she could tell him her name.

  And she wanted to tell him, wanted to tell him she’d been engaged once too.

  “Well, he’s a looker,” Kitty said.

  Yes, he was. More importantly, he was a gentleman, like the cowboy heroes in her favorite movies.

  “Remember the Red Cross guidelines,” Jo said in a singsong. “We’re here to offer mercy, a listening ear, and wholesome fun.”

  Winnie laughed. “If Violet wants to offer it to a handsome pilot, so be it.”

  “Not on your life, girls.” Violet put on a playful smile and held up Kitty’s soiled hankie. “I’ve had enough of flyboys to last a lifetime.”

  They all laughed.

  And yet, Violet searched the sea of olive drab for the tall man with the intriguing blend of chivalry and mystery.

  Something told her Adler Paxton needed that listening ear.

  Dear Reader,

  When most of us think about D-day, we think of GIs and Tommies storming the beaches of Normandy, and with good reason. But when I was researching the US Navy for my Waves of Freedom series, I was struck by the naval role in Operation Neptune. As I dug, I was awed by the stories of the US destroyers. I wanted to tell those stories.

  In this novel, both the HMS Seavington and the USS Oglesby are fictional, as are their crews. However, the Ogie’s adventures are based on the real-life heroics of Destroyer Squadron 18, and I relied heavily on the war diaries and action reports of the nine destroyers for my research. Those ships charged within eight hundred yards of the shore, heedless of mines and artillery, all to protect the men on shore. They toppled gun batteries off cliffs, cooperated silently with tanks, and knocked out strongpoints when they noticed pinned-down troops. Truly phenomenal work. No US destroyers were lost off Omaha Beach on D-day, but the destroyer USS Corry was sunk by mines and artillery off Utah Beach.

  The disaster during Exercise Tiger at Slapton Sands was real. German E-boats sank two LST landing ships early on April 28, 1944, and badly damaged another. The best sources indicate that 749 sailors and soldiers perished. The US VII Corps lost more men that night than on Utah Beach on D-day. The reasons for this tragedy are noted in the story.

  Another less-known aspect of World War II that appears in this novel is the “Little Blitz,” overshadowed by the Blitz of 1940–41 and the V-1 and V-2 attacks that began later in 1944. The Luftwaffe mounted Operation Steinbock from January 21 to April 18, 1944, in retaliation for heavy Allied bombing of German cities. In those three months, about 1,500 Londoners were killed, a rude jolt to a war-weary nation. But in those three months, the Luftwaffe lost about 300 bombers of the 462 available on the Western Front, crippling the force on the eve of the Normandy invasion.

  During World War II, 100,000 Wrens served in Britain’s Women’s Royal Naval Service throughout the world. These women served in ninety different ratings and fifty officer categories, and greatly aided the Allied war effort.

  I hope you enjoyed reading about D-day from the sea. Please join Adler Paxton in the skies over Normandy in The Sky Above Us (2019) and Clay Paxton on the ground in The Land Beneath Us (2020).

  If you’re on Pinterest, please visit my board for The Sea Before Us (www.pinterest.com/sarahsundin) to see pictures of London, Normandy, Wrens, destroyers, and other inspiration for the story.

  Acknowledgments

  As always, I’m indebted to my family, friends, agent, editors, and publishing team—I love and appreciate you all! As solitary as writing often seems, that is an illusion. It’s a team effort, and I have the best team.

  An enormous thank-you to the WRNS Association, Weymouth, for answering my questions about the Wrens. Thank you, ladies, for your service—and for helping a perplexed Yankee author.

  Five of the character names in this novel were “won” in a raffle for the historic El Campanil Theatre in Antioch, California (www.elcampaniltheatre.com). The stories behind the names touched me, and I wanted to share them with you.

  Johanna Katin (pronounced KAY-ten): supplied by Marge Katin. Her father-in-law, Jacques Katin, fled Germany just before the war and served in the US Army. Katin is of Jewish-German origin. Jacques’s mother, Johanna, and sister, Leone, were unable to leave and died in the Kovno Ghetto. I’m honored to offer this small tribute to those who perished in the Holocaust and the few who managed to escape.

  Jack Vale: supplied by Andres Santamaria, a compilation of his family names from the 1940s. When I mentioned the name to my youngest son, he declared it the best name ever, fitting for my hero’s best friend.

  Jerry Hobson: supplied by Phyllis Hobson. She chose her husband’s name for three reasons. First, they grew up in Antioch and have always loved the El Campanil Theatre—not only did they attend movies there, but Jerry performed on stage as a teenager. Second, Jerry developed an interest in World War II history during high school, especially in classes taught by Mr. Wayne Korsinen. Third, Jerry served ten years in the US Army, five of those in Germany.

  Edwin (Ed) Adams: supplied by Merle Whitburn. Ed Adams was his father. He started a trucking business in the 1930s. During World War II, his company hauled supplies and blood plasma, despite shortages of tires and gas. He was president of the California Truck Owners Association. Mr. Whitburn says, “He was a special man.”

  Wayne Holoch (pronounced Hall-ock): supplied by Nancy Sweet. Her father, Wayne Roy Holoch, served during World War II in the Philippines. Mrs. Sweet says he was scheduled to be among the first to land on mainland Japan if the atomic bomb had not been deployed.

  Thank you for these names and these stories!

  And thank you to my readers! I appreciate your messages, prayers, and encouragement. Please visit me at www.sarahsundin.com to leave a message, sign up for my email newsletter, read about the history behind the story, and see pictures from my trip to London and Normandy. I hope to hear from you.

  Discussion Questions

  The naval aspect of D-day, Operation Neptune, is often overlooked, yet 195,000 Allied sailors served that day. Have you heard of this aspect of D-day? What parts interested you?

  Life in Britain was very difficult during World War II, with air raids and severe rationing and shortages. What elements surprised you in this story? How do you think you would have handled this life?

  Wyatt feels the need to repay his debt to the penny. In what ways is this right? How does he use his debt as an excuse? What does he learn about punishing himself for his sins and forgiving himself?

  Dorothy is devoted to her father, even though the man ignores her. In what ways is this good? In what ways does she overdo it? How does her longing for love affect her relationship with Lawrence?

  Wyatt is typical of most Americans of his day, never having left his home state before 1941. Although he has many “country mouse” experiences, he enjoys London. How about you? Are you a homebody, or do you love to travel?

  Dorothy is trying to remake herself to please Lawrence. How does this cause problems? How does she come to accept herself? Have you ever tried to remake yourself to please a person or a group? Watched a friend do so?

  More than anything, Wyatt longs to protect those he loves, but his history has led him to doubt that protective urge. Are there times when we “can’t protect someone who doesn’t want to be protected”? When should we reach out, and when should we withdraw our hands?

  Wyatt notes that “Dorothy wanted to reclaim her lost family through memories, and Mr. Fairfax wanted to forget. Both grieving in different, clashing ways.” In your experience, what’s the healthiest way to deal with grief? How does this vary based on personality?

  Wyatt has a history of jealousy with his brother Adler, and he struggles not to give in to
jealousy with Lawrence Eaton. How does he grow in that respect?

  Dorothy enjoys her friendships with Gwen, Muriel, and Johanna. How do they influence her for the better—and for the worse?

  Wyatt sees himself as a failure and is quick to see setbacks as evidence of this. How does he grow during the story?

  Dorothy’s holiday home in Vierville-sur-Mer—what does it represent to her? How does her attitude change throughout the story?

  Dorothy doesn’t want to repeat her mother’s mistakes. In the beginning of the story, this means one thing—and at the end, something entirely different. Discuss her relationship with her mother.

  Psalm 139 weaves throughout the story. How does it make you feel to know the Lord is always present? That he created every part of your being? That his hand is always upon you?

  Discuss Dorothy’s paintings—watercolors and oils, light and dark. How does her intuition come into play through her art?

  Just for fun . . . Squirrels? Adorable jokesters or Nazi spies? Charlie needs to know.

  From what you’ve heard about Wyatt’s brothers, what might you expect in The Sky Above Us (Adler’s story, coming in 2019) and The Land Beneath Us (Clay’s story, coming in 2020)?

  Sarah Sundin is the author of the WAVES OF FREEDOM series as well as the WINGS OF THE NIGHTINGALE and the WINGS OF GLORY series. Her novel Through Waters Deep was a finalist for the 2016 Carol Award, won the INSPY Award, and was named to Booklist’s “101 Best Romance Novels of the Last 10 Years.” In 2011, Sarah received the Writer of the Year Award at the Mount Hermon Christian Writers Conference.

  A graduate of UC San Francisco School of Pharmacy, she works on-call as a hospital pharmacist. During WWII, her grandfather served as a pharmacist’s mate (medic) in the US Navy and her great-uncle flew with the US Eighth Air Force. Sarah and her husband have three adult children—including a sailor in the US Navy! Sarah lives in northern California, and she enjoys speaking for church, community, and writers’ groups. Visit www.sarahsundin.com for more information.