Locomotive to the Past, George Schultz [snow like ashes series txt] 📗

me… what it is! What it is… that you want! That you don’t want!” She reached across—and took his left hand—in one of hers. “Tell me what you want,” she sniffed. “What you might need! Whatever it is . . . I’ll go along with it! I’ll do . . . whatever it is, that needs to be done! I love you too! I’ll do what ever it is… that you want! Whatever it is… that you need! Just tell me!”

“I want to marry you,” he rasped. “I need to marry you! Tomorrow, maybe! Tonight . . . if possible! I want to marry you… in the worst way! And… apparently… that’s the way I’m doing it! In positively . . . the worst way!”

The remark took all the wind out of her sails! She laughed! A humorless laugh! In spite of herself! In spite of everything, that had been said—or thought—during the exchange! She laughed! Much more heartily—but, still without humor—than she ever could’ve envisioned!

The “tomorrow”—referred to above—was to become more than just a random reference to a day of the week! Or a prospective wedding date! Much more!

On Saturday—April 18, 1942—sixteen B-25 Liberator bombers, under the command of Lieutenant Colonel Jimmy Doolittle, US Army Air Forces, were launched, from the flight deck, of the United States aircraft carrier, USS Hornet, deep in the Western Pacific Ocean! Five men to a plane!

This rag-tag squadron actually had the temerity—to have BOMBED Tokyo, Japan! This magnificent, courageous, raid—occurred little more than four months after the Japs’ cowardly attack—on Pearl Harbor! Something most people would’ve thought impossible!

The plan was for them to bomb their targets, in Japan—then, continue on to China. (Landing a plane—such as a medium bomber, back onto the deck of the carrier was patently impossible!)

Fifteen of the US planes—made it to China! The sixteenth landed—in The Soviet Union!

All but three of these heroic raiders survived! All planes, though, were lost!

Eight crewmen were captured by the Japanese Army—in China—and three of these magnificent worriers were executed! The B-25, that landed in the USSR—at Vladivostok—was confiscated. The crew was interred—for more than a year!

A staggering statistic: An estimated 200,000 Chinese civilians wound up killed—slaughtered, by the Japanese—who’d been in search, of Doolittle’s men!

Not only was this the shocking, completely-unexpected, first attack—on the Japanese home island—but, the fact, of the daring raid, had many enormous, far-reaching, “intellectual”-and-psychological, consequences!

Although the actual damage—inflicted upon the Capital city—was rather minimal, the daring raid wound up producing a devastating effect, upon the country’s unsuspecting, thought-to-have-been-secure, population!

Till the very moment, that the first bomb had blasted in, the Japanese people had believed—had firmly trusted—that their home island was invulnerable! That their country was totally impervious to any sort of attack!

To be so drastically shocked—snatched so violently—from that comfortable (that mistaken) belief, proved to have an immense, a shattering, negative effect! Upon everybody—who had populated the till-then-ruefully-smug “Land of The Rising Sun”! For the very first time, mass confusion reigned, over there! The well-deserved launch—of rampant mass misgivings!

The propaganda advantage—gained by the United States—was immeasurable!

Not only was the Nippon populace shocked—beyond words—but the, out-of-the-blue, attack gave the American people a badly-needed shot-in-the-arm! A substantial boost—in this country’s public morale! The so-called “impregnable” Japanese Empire—quite suddenly—didn’t look quite so formidable, after all! These people could be beaten! “We can do it!” became the immediate watchword! All across the United States!

Everybody, in the USA seemed to have (also quite suddenly) acquired a little bit more spring in their step!

Eventually—we did do it!

TWENTY EIGHT

April 20, 1942: Monday! Two days after the Doolittle bombing, of Tokyo, some of the more hardy hockey fans paused—and came to the surface! They came to realize that the Toronto Maple Leafs had, indeed—on that same historic, heroic, night—overcome the three-game lead, that the Detroit Red Wings had amassed, in the best-of-seven game series! The team from Canada had actually swept the final four games—and were, now, crowned Stanley Cup Champions!

In Detroit, in the early—and mid-forties, the Red Wings did not have the dazzling following, afforded the baseball Tigers. No one did. The Lions seldom sold out Briggs Stadium, for their NFL games—even though they’d featured a swing band. The NBA Pistons would not arrive—from Fort Wayne, Indiana—till 1957.

Still, for days (some said weeks—others said months) the Motor City suffered a monumental sports hangover! The devastating series loss (and embarrassment) would become, more and more, well, devastating—as the years, and even as the decades, would (slowly, agonizingly,) pass.

It would be 33 long years, before the Pittsburgh Penguins would suffer a similar “choke”—and get themselves swept, over the final four games, by the New York Islanders, in the 1975 Stanley Cup Playoffs. Yet another 35 years would pass—before the Philadelphia Flyers would “pull off the same trick” and oust the Boston Bruins, after losing the first three games, to enter the 2010 Cup finals.

So, obviously, the 1942 Red Wings collapse would linger, in a good many Detroiter’s craws! Some said “forever”! In any case, as the years would pass, “The Choke” would loom—larger and larger—in The Motor City’s lexicon! And, in the late-nineties, it would still have had a practically paralyzing effect, on Grandpa Piepczyk—who’d, probably, never gotten over the “catastrophe”! One reason why his grandson had been so always-cognizant, of the situation.

It was a mostly fearful Jason Rutkowski—who would punch the time clock, at the Herman Gardens project—on that fateful Monday morning! The fear had not yet taken total, complete, hold, of Our Hero. (Just mostly!) Interspersed between the troubling periods, of anxiety—concerning the smothering uncertainty—were bursts, of outrage! Over the prospect—of Hurley Stackhouse welching, on his “Debt of Honor” (as it would be described, a few years later, in Cole Porter’s tuneful Kiss Me Kate).

The morning had ground on. The prospect, of the itinerant “Sports Financial Counselor” not showing—at the housing project—had steadily progressed! As had Jason’s budding, swift-growing, anger! The latter’s fear factor was, surprisingly, decreasing apace!

Finally—equally as surprisingly—kindly Mr. Stackhouse did show up! At 11:30AM! He seemed to be not interested—in becoming engaged, with Our Boy. But, he appeared—apparently—not looking to