Five
Danny and Al pulled their gear from the jeep and walked the path up the hill.
“I hear that a box up the coast has five or six rooms in it,” said Al.
“I guess these things come in all sizes,” said Danny. “We’ve got them from San Diego to Seattle. Some have got the big 16-inch guns.”
“Yeah, and we get the smallest one of the bunch,” said Al. “At least it’s quiet here.”
As they approached the ground-level hatch, Danny picked up a rock and squatted down. He tapped three times on the steel hatch. After a few seconds, the hatch opened with a metallic grind.
“You’re early,” came a voice from the shaft below.
“Hey, Campio,” said Danny. “It’s almost dark—you guys want an escort home? Could be scary out there.”
“Shut up and get inside,” said Campio. “We’re going nuts in here.”
Al passed his gear to Danny. He dropped the bags down the shaft to Campio. The men climbed down the ladder and entered the chamber. The main room contained two bunks and an equipment rack on the opposite wall. The dominant fixture was the 50-caliber machine gun mounted on a turret in the middle. The muzzle faced out toward the ocean through a wide slot formed in the concrete wall. In a smaller second room, another soldier sat at a steel desk, writing in a log book. To his left was a large two-way radio on the edge of the desk.
“Come on, Abramowitz. Get us logged out and let’s go,” said Campio. Abramowitz finished the entries and closed the log book. Without comment, he picked up his bag, climbed up the ladder and exited the bunker.
“It’s all yours, boys,” said Campio. “I’m off to find some beer.” He stepped toward the ladder and then stopped. “Oh, yeah. Sarge says to oil those bayonets. You never know when Adolf will drop by for a shave.” As Danny and Al settled in, Campio climbed out and followed Abramowitz.
Al looked at the two M1’s propped in the corner by the bunks. Two sixteen-inch bayonets were on the floor next to them. “I don’t get why the sergeant wastes these on us. If we got attacked, what would we do with a couple of rifles anyway?”
“Maybe he’s just watching out for us, Al,” said Danny. “We can clean up the bayonets later when we really get bored. They’re pretty new, so Sarge will know if they look rusty. This salt air does them in pretty quickly.”
“Okay,” said Al. “I’ll get us logged in. I can also take the first watch. After that, I’ve got some reading to do.”
Danny stopped and looked over at Al. “Reading? You? I mean, I didn’t know you liked to read.”
“Sometimes,” said Al. “At least it takes me out of this place for a while. You know, my cousin is in the Navy and is on a sub somewhere out there. I told him he was crazy to be in that floating coffin. Now, here I am, in an underground tomb. Can’t win for losing.”
The men finished their evening setup and prepared for the long night ahead.
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