Just Doing Her Part

During an interlude -- they were beginning to come more often, last a little longer as the lovers wore each other out -- Harold dared to ask, "Do you think you'll get married again?"

"I guess," she admitted, "after the war's over, maybe. My mother wants me to go back to Laurel, but it's a small town, most of the men are in Europe or the Pacific, and I don't think I would meet anyone down there. Besides, I like it here, I think I can do more for the war effort up here than down there."

"Don't you get lonely?"

"Sometimes. But I've gotten over feeling sorry for myself, I've got friends here, I get along." She didn't ask him what his plans were when the war was over; both knew that for him, it might never be finished, that he might sleep in Europe forever.

They drifted off to sleep rather early that night, exhausted from twenty-four hours of passion, but twice during the night they woke each other for romance.

In the morning, when they knew Harold would be that very evening on a ship in the Atlantic approaching the danger awaiting him, he wished to know what she expected of him, what he might expect from her. "Maybe I could write you?"

"Oh, that would be nice," she admitted, "but I'm not very good at writing back. Johnny always complained that I didn't send him enough letters."

"Well, can I look you up when the war's over?"

"If I'm still here. I don't know. But I'll remember you, Harold, I'll always remember you." She slid a drawer in the secretary open, retrieved a rectangle of cardboard. "Once, Johnny took me to a photographer, and had the man take a picture of me. He got extras, I'd like you to have one." Before she gave him the likeness, she autographed it, 'Love always, Alice.' Harold took the portrait, saw that in her picture she was naked, save for nylon stockings and garters. Her breasts were outthrust, the pubic hair dark against the softness of her belly. "I know how you boys like to brag, I'm sure Johnny showed this to his shipmates. If you want to, you can let your friends see this, tell them how much fun we've had."

Then it was the time for one final protracted kiss, the poignant goodbye, "Take good care of yourself." She had no doubt, deep in her soul, that she would never see him again.

*

A few days later, again dressed in her provocative frock, red lipstick, mascara, and eyeliner on her face, Alice strolled to the Liberty Bar. The porcelain bowl in front of Johnny's picture now held three buttons. And Alice excitedly wondered with which young soldier she would tonight do her part with.