The Colder the Whiskey, The Wetter the Ice.

If you're trying to give me something, don't.

I have everything.

If you try and know me, you probably already do.

Don't leave it to me to measure your worth.

I'll let you be worthless.

But ask me to be kind, and I'll never say no.

Expecting, Getting, and Forgetting

When a night begins, I'll sit around Expecting it.

What it will be.

We leave, we arrive.

And everythings changed A hundred times on the way.

Half the time its a blast.

Half the time my body makes it in the door but I never did.

Whatever times left, Nobody makes it in the door - me and a close drunk squeak alone 

We always get it.

We left to get it.

I never remember it but thats what cheap poems are for.

A poem for Jeanie

By B.T Masters

Swing you, and away. Always.

Fly you and always so high I cannot see.

Is it distant love I've adopted.

Or is the illusion whats come too close to my heart.

To ask "Are you mine" 

Dumb speech.

To wonder if it's only me.

A dumb life.

Then there's nothing left than to be dumb for you.

Part 2-"Rhythm is our business" Said Lunceford to Smith

...Two weeks earlier this same beach was smiles, songs; nurses in next to nothing. Beer thanks to the Colonel. Paradise on the border of a war. Every friday we would shrug our duties for the whole day and set up at the beach. Three months on the island and our system was flawless.

 9 Am- the Cooks and the Mechanics (who all happened to be decent and passionate chefs in their own ways .) Set up the giant trough grill, and began cooking. Everyone would make their way to the large courtyard a the the fore of the base. Standing in the courtyard looking out at the beach, the radio tower would be directly behind, The Nurses station to the right, and the living quarters to the left.

It didn't take long to wire our record player to the base speakers (which I had installed myself) and have the sound of Bunny Berigan's "Trees" in our ears as we poured our coffee. We had the best coffee. If I wasn't so caught up in the little world we'd created I might feel bad about spending the government's war bucks on Premium roast and Blatz but what the fuck, I was just following orders anyhow. 

Usually on fridays my job was surf lessons. I had come up with this job on my own, and while it seemed a helpful gesture  to the cause of those who had no clue how to ride a wave, It was for me. I had figured that all the fellas on this island either knew how to surf just fine, or didn't know cause they didn't care. This left only the Female nursing staff wondering what this sport had to offer. Paradise. Every friday.

"Alright girls, now hop up on your knees!" I shout to the row of nurses all lying on their boards. Jesus H. Christ.

"Having fun playing with your dolls then?" A shout comes from behind. I Don't need to turn to know who it is. Her deliberate tongue, Joy. She mouthed off more than any woman I had ever met, but she was good looking enough to get away with it. Smart too.

"I am infact!" I still hadn't turned. I walked over and adjusted the closest girls posture with a gentle tap on the lower back. She straightened out. I turned. "Care to join us?" I asked to Joy.

"ha!" she throws her head back, messing her dark red hair, stopping just where her shoulders end. Untied." No I was just coming over to say I appreciate the flowers, Your an ass but Ill miss you when I leave." She was still in her uniform. Most of us were in some form of bathing suit or another, but she knew the power that pencil skirt had. 

"Ah you won't miss me." I replied, walking a little closer. The nurses kept practicing hopping up on their knees. They had started gathering a crowd, but I had become uninterested."You got yer New York newspaper world to keep you busy. All those real bright writers with ten assistants to carry around their seven pocketbooks, and 15 guys to keep track of those ten guys" I started smacking my fingers as if to count " Oh and that loft with the view!" I fell back into the sand with my hand on my head as if to faint. 

"Oh come off it." She laughed "I have a bit more to write then you and I will have a drink?" she started turning away but kept her eyes fixed on mine, as I lay on the sand.

"Yeah, Ill be around" I said back. She walked off and I put my hand over my eyes to block the sun. I pictured her naked.

Next on the schedule we had fallen into, after everyone ate, was a toast lead by Colonel Brighton. "As I raise the first glass of the day, as I hope to one day raise the flag over Tokyo-" Everyone cheers " ah ah ah not yet! As I raise the first glass of the day, as I hope to one day raise the flag over Tokyo, I drink to raise the spirits of those who have fallen, and toast to them." Everyone raised their glasses and there was a half second of silence before Brighton shouts "The unlucky bastards!" and downs his entire cup. Cheers- and we begin. 

The air by this time stunk of grilled meat and coal. Beers were being tossed back and forth and everyone was wearing a smile. By now even the true warriors, who craved battle, who wanted Japanese blood, had given up and begun enjoying themselves.  The Colonel and he's entourage stood around the makeshift bar we had put together. The top was covered in assorted bottles. None of it was cheap either. I had to wonder what his personal stock was made up of. They already looked drunk and it was only about Noon.

Charlie Barnet's "The Right Idea" came on the PA and a few of the guys took a few of the girls and swung em around. One of the nurse girls approached me . Jeanie ,blonde, little pony tail, about 19 I'd say. She had her swim suit on still,Red and white stripped, but had thrown one of the mechanics dark blues over her shoulders and tied it up in such a way so she didn't have to button it. She had a cigarette hanging out of her mouth. "Whats the idea Bill?" She said bumping up against my side to the music, pushing me a bit.

"Alright alright" I grabbed her waist and led her out toward the boards we'd set on the ground. Not the best dance floor but it did the trick. We started moving.

"That was a good lesson today, I think im about ready to go in the water..." Jeanie said puffing on her cigarette which she had hanging out of her mouth.

I grabbed it from her with my left hand and kept here in rhythm with my right, on her back.I took a drag and put it back into her mouth. "Wanna give it a shot?" I pushed her out with a spin and pulled her back quick and a little closer than before.

"How about t'nite? it'll still be warm im sure of it" She said more quietly. Just as I began to smile I looked over across the courtyard to see Brennan Masters, and for all intensive purposes, this was his girl I was dancing with. She was wearing his shirt at least. I Averted my eyes. He was a quiet fellow. Always reading. He'd gone and grown a beard, the mechanics generally did.

"What'd Master think of that?" I said. She pulled away and looked me in the face. We weren't moving anymore.

"No ones nobodys!" She said loud. Then she came in close again with her hands crawling up my back  and said half as softly "What old Brenny Boy don't know won't hurt him."

"Fuckin A" I pecked her on the cheek and lifted her off. "Be good Jeanie!" and I started away. I had to find Joy.

I pushed around the groups of people chatting and drinking. Some of the Fighting men were horsing around playing war. They were here to guard the tower against attacks we never thought would come, all they could do was play war. My focused shot passed them, through their battle of laughter and sand throwing, to Joy sitting alone on a small grassy hill on the edge of the sand. She had a glass of something that looked full so I didn't feel I had to bring her anything. Plus, I had a beer in my hand, freshly opened, and one in my shirt pocket. It didn't fit well but it worked. I jogged over and through the firing line . "Friendly fire!" I shouted as I was hit with a Chunk of torn up grass.

"Don't tell me your playing war too" Joy said turning her head toward me as I emerged from the fray.

"Not my thing." I replied and sat down.

Smoke means People.

...The five of us were making better time than we expected. About 3 miles south the plant life started to ease up. Another couple and there was almost none left. Just wide open fields, all flooded about 2 feet deep. marshland. at least a mile across. We couldn't tell how far along the horizontals it went. Farther than we could see. We were a people who knew very little about our own countries terrain. 

Growing up, we were aloud to leave the Protectorate only with  purchased "Vacationeer" passes. Everything they supplied us with was patronizing and cold. It came from the top. The passes were given out in a lottery , but could also be purchased for a price higher than any Harrison Pharm. employee could ever afford. At least they gave us he illusion of liberty. Once you had one of these passes, you were assigned an "Adventure Post" . That was a protected group of campsites about a mile outside of the Protectorate. Now as a kid, this drive through the jungle which took no time at all, still seemed to land us in a completely foreign world. At least they created the illusion of adventure. No one who grew up in Harrison Pharm. knew shit about Cambodia. That was no accident.

We all stood there and took it in for a second. I had never seen anything like this in my life, and it had been a three day walk from where I was born. Artcher too had been inside the protectorate his whole life. Anna had taken part in rescuing "Lost Citizens". (really this was capturing escaped citizens trying to get out of the country without the two tons of paperwork it would normally require. Not to mention 80% of submissions were denied.) They performed operations outside the protectorate often, and she had a decent lay of the land. Just from maps which she was never allowed take home. Dyrell had no idea where he was. He was the first to un -freeze and start wading across the mire. We joined in.

Part 1-a Sunset to the Sun and Suds, Island 28

This was one way to spend the fuckin' war. I carried a surfboard more often than a gun and we were the go to spot for the fuck-ups of the pacific. We manned a forward radio outpost not big enough for an airstrip , and with a coast so rocky the only stretch of actual beach was about the length of a football feild. Not many boats came in. Not much anything came or went out. Not much of anything happened, as far as the war was concerned. 

We would get our occasional Casualty import. A few shot up navy guys show up to lay around and get better. We had  a small nursing station filled  with the Army's best looking girl soldiers. If I were on a carrier or a gunboat out in the fight, and I heard about Island 28, I'd go right ahead and shoot my toe off, just in hopes I'd land on this island. Not everyone was so content with the distance between our island and the fight, but they made due in fighting each other. I swear America's best post war boxers, surfers, and drunks came right off Island 28.

I'd been one of the first to set foot on the island with the corps. of engineers, to build the radio tower and the lodging for the crew that would eventually man it. We also, as I had mentioned, built a small field hospital. 15 beds. Enough to get us the extra funding we "Needed". I would later find that the Colonel  and commanding officer stationed on our island, Col. Brighton , had intended to spend the money on booze for himself and the rest of us. He got his leg torn off on the deck of a gunboat 3 days before  the Bullshit at Pearl Harbor, the beginning of the war he was born to fight. He was heartbroken and became quite an eccentric drunk. Luckily his position was more that of a Mayor than a military leader. He had swung some kind of deal that allowed him command in a region that was still considered disputed but not of any tactical advantage. Our forces had pushed on and built more powerful towers , there were plenty. We could have cut transmission 6 months ago and no one would be the wiser. My theory is that our tower made all the other frequencies a little less snowy. A luxury frequency. Whatever.

I remember the day our party began wind down. Things were changing. 

It was about 9 AM when I rolled out of my bunk onto the floor. Some guys were up, some were face first in their pillows. My boss being one of them.  Sgt. Hadley. He was less of a warrior and more of a foreman. He, myself, and 13 other men built everything on the island and now spent our time on "Up-keep". There was almost no up-keep. The occasional paint job. Downed transmitter. Someone put their fist through a window after a fight by the tower. Not a very demanding position. 

I decided I'd go over to the tower to make sure everything was running fine. Most everyone had been drinking the night before, shooting targets, and birds. I had decided to stay in and re-read the letters I had gotten from the girl I had back in Los Angeles.It wasn't serious and she was the kinda girl who would fuck your friends, but hell the letters were nice. Fell asleep early so I wasn't dead to the world like the rest of the crew. I didn't make it passed the Alarm-Horn before it sounded. In fact- it was directly over my head as I exited the door and nearly blew my ears useless. "What the fuck!" I shouted, along with half the hung-up soldier drunks still inside the barracks. 

Looking up I could see our little stretch of beach was littered with the small transport boats they used to bring the wounded a-shore.  There were people jumping out. Then stretchers.

"Come on lets give em a hand!" Jerry,one of the mechanics, grunted as he passed me on the way down to the shore. He was a decent guy. Had no desire to be on this island. He was older, about 55, and had grandchildren at home. We headed down together, jogging. "excitement! woo!" Jerry joked. Not yet knowing the severity of the situation.

The conversation buzzing down by the boats, from what I could tell, was about a boat that had been shot to shit by a couple Jap planes. Dive bombed and gunned to hell. The worst news for us is that it wasn't all that far from here. The wounds were fresh. Usually we got high ranking types, half healed and getting ready to head out again. Most of these bastards looked like leftovers. I spotted A navy medic without a stretcher partner. He waved and I ran over to grab the other side of the sticks. 

"Thanks, man this guys wrecked." The medic said. The name on his jacket read 'Moss' . The grunt in the stretcher no longer had a jacket, a shirt, or a left leg. "I think he lost his hearing too" Shouted the medic over the commotion on the beach. We made our way as quickly as we could up the beach to where the nursing station lie. There was a fairly dramatic incline near the top of the beach and carrying the stretcher up it was a task. We managed but others were having trouble as-well. There was shouting and fighting over what method should be used to bring the stretchers up the crest of the slope. No time for that. The medic and myself made our way into the Station. The nurses were frantically preparing  their tools and beds. There were four doctors and they all ran up to us and began barking directions. Ours was the first stretcher to have made it into the Station. 

"Set him here at this table" Said one of the doctors. They all looked the same now with their masks on. I had met them all at different points in time on the island but never gotten to know them. They didn't cary on like we did. We set the bloody mess on the table. and backed off. He was swarmed by nurses and doctors. As I saw more of the stretchers pour in, I knew without a doubt the party was winding down.

Remains

...We had shot the French. Except for the...Patriot. The real Frenchman. He was still standing there with his gunning hand in the air and the other one shaking uselessly at his side. He wasn't one of them. He never seemed to be and now it was tested.

"hey where the hell is Dyrell?" Artcher let out, lowering his rifle. We had both forgotten about Dyrell completely when we heard Anna make a noise. "Pick that up, don't be and idiot and we wont shoot you." He said to the Patriot. The boy knelt and grabbed the gun and holstered it. "Take it out, and if someone fucks with us shoot them" Artcher insisted. The boy fumbled to take out the gun, he was nervous and thankful.

We all charged out of the trees and could see immediately what we had pondered. Dyrell and Anna were marching our way with rifles in hand. "who the fuck got shot!?" Anna shouted now jogging at us. She and Dyrell realized the answer as they got closer and saw only the three of us, weapons drawn. "What happened?" Anna asked. She lowered her gun and tilted her head. She was no longer in fight mode.

We explained and took them to the remains. They weren't shocked. Anna told us she had been slapped for disagreeing with Blush then the puke with the mustache pulled a gun- "Bitch walk away" and she did. Everyone stayed awake until the sun came up. Sitting on the porch with our legs hanging off, feeling surprisingly safe. That was alot more action than I had ever seen. I had never shot anyone. Artcher might have. Dyrell, yes. I knew thats what the world was going to be for a while, shooting people. We felt like there was no one left to betray us. Either we had satisfied, temporarily , our paranoia or we had actually saved our asses just in time. It didn't mater which. Especially  now since we had just enough ferry tickets for the lot of us. At first it felt bad thinking so readily about the possessions of the fallen. Then it felt natural. And it was. Man buzzards.

"We ought to sleep, and then pack our things and begin heading south mid day." I suggested. We all agreed and tried to get some rest. None of us got much. The Patriot gave up and took to wandering around looking at the plants on the tree line. He had been inspecting them for days and in-between stints of my dozing I could look out the window and see him foraging. Boyscouts.

Time came to leave and everyone was already awake. We packed our bags, hopped off the porch and never came back to the Compound.