Weather Report

an inadequate homage to Cpl. Irving Strobing, USA

     Runners took over the radio-men's duties as the defense lines slowly collapsed and the need for most long distance transmissions ceased.  Most of the operators were given rifles and ordered up to the front, now less than a half mile distant.  A few remained to transmit the daily situation and weather reports and to copy the wisdom of headquarters thousands of miles away.

     The reports were progressively grimmer, the weather iffy and the wisdom implausibly upbeat.  One bleak report to headquarters included the commanding general's request to "act with discretion."

     "Not long now," said the sergeant.

     "We'll see," said the corporal.

     Two hours later came permission from Hawaii, surrender at discretion.

     "Told you so," said the sergeant.

     "Perhaps," said the corporal.

     At dawn the next day they were ordered to stand ready to destroy all equipment, leaving the long range shortwave radio for last.

     At nine am they were ordered to start destruction, with the last traffic outgoing to all stations and Hawaii at 11.30.  A final text arrived at 11.15.  The corporal keyed up.  It wasn't a long message, it concluded, "... active resistance to end at Noon local.  God bless America."

     "That's all," said the sergeant.  "Good signal, but now we're screwed, they'll forget all about us by the time this war's over".  He picked up a sledgehammer and eyed the transmitter. "Where's the Fleet?  Where's the damn air force?  Hell, they've forgotten us already.  'No mama, no papa, no Uncle Sam. No aunts, no uncles, no ... '"

     "Maybe," interrupted the corporal.  "What about this?"

     "The weather report? Might as well send, someone might need it.  It's not 11.30 yet."  Allied ships, fugitives from Japanese navy search planes, were still running south for safety.  "Go ahead, in clear, voice."

     The corporal opened his mic,

     "Gentle trades and isolated light showers are present mainly south east of Manila. Weather will slowly stabilize today with showers and thunderstorms staying to the south.  Combined seas of two to four feet are indicated at the buoys. My name is Corporal Eddie Robertson, Army Signal Corps. My mother is Ann Williams, she lives at 32 East Pecos, Kansas City, Please tell her I'm OK. Station will be closing ... standby ... ."