Project Backwards; Chapter Four

A Chapter by Michael Stevens

Chapter Four:

“That’s sir, soldier!” Sir, was he a soldier?

“And why are you out of uniform?” Steve looked down, and saw he was still dressed in 1920’s garb. He decided to just play along; it was easier than trying to explain, and he wouldn’t be believed anyway.

“Ah, sir, I was on shore leave (he wasn’t quite sure of the proper term) and just now returned for duty, sir!”

“Shore leave? The only leave you’ve taken is of your senses; this is the Army, private!”

Just then, a plane flew overhead. “Well, that reminds me; I wonder if Lindbergh made it away from those two tough-guys?” He had blurted it out without thinking.

“That’s sir, and who?”

“Sorry sir, Lindbergh, Charles Lindbergh.”

“Who’s he?”

Wow, MacArthur’s a moron! “Sir, the first person to fly across the Atlantic?”

“I don’t know what alternate universe you’re living in, but Freddy Flature was the first person to fly across the Atlantic.”

Freddy Flature, who’s he? Once again, history has been changed as a direct result of me! he thought.

MacArthur continued, “I don’t have time for your stupidity; the Japanese are just outside Manila.”

Manila? He was in some deep s**t!

“Pack up, we’re withdrawing to Bataan,” announced General Macarthur.

Steve knew what the result of that would mean; capture at best or death at worst, at the hands of the Japanese. He had just figured out where he was supposed to be, through many bitching outs by his superiors, which meant damn near everyone. Why did he have to time travel in as a private? Why not a captain, or a general?

“Ah, excuse me sir, but do you think that’s a very good idea?” he shouted, surrounded by men. His borrowed army uniform flapped in the breeze, which ruffled through the palm trees. He really looked pathetic, as his sleeve cuffs, and pant cuffs, were each too long; but he’d had no choice but to throw himself on the mercy of his fellow soldiers. He obviously had no uniforms. When questioned as to why, he’d claimed amnesia. He claimed to have no idea how he’d gotten here, which was the truth, sort of. If he told the time machine story, the laughter for his fellow soldiers would be deafening. Better to claim shell shock or something, than try for the truth. Shell shock; did they still call it that in WWII?

Macarthur grew red in the face; livid would also work. “Who said that? You’re in deep s**t, mister!”

Steve tried to hide amongst the relative invisibleness of his unit. Immediately, every soldier standing near him pointed at him.

Thanks a whole hell of a lot; Judases!

“You there, what were you saying?”

Oh s**t! “Ah, sir, I was thinking another course of action might be called for here, sir.”

“What would you suggest, private?”

The utter stupidity of his question slapped him in the face. “Me? Ah, maybe surrender. You know, live to fight another day, sir?”

“Surrender? What are you, a coward?”

Yep! he thought, but answered, “I mean, maybe you could save some of those who died, sir.”

“Get a load of this guy; worried about his own a**, in the guise of ‘caring about the other men’! Well, Mr. Chicken-S**t, if I were you, I’d be more worried about surviving in the brig; because that’s where you’re headed; for publically questioning my judgment, and disrespecting both me, and the uniform. What are you, some kind of a clown? Look at you!”

It turned out that Steve didn’t have to spend any time in the brig, as the entire army withdrew first to Bataan, then here, to Corregidor. The Japanese army was closing in rapidly. General Macarthur had been ordered taken off by PT boat, and was by now safely out to sea. Steve understood why, but was still resentful. He was skin and bones, and cursed whatever had sent him here, to this misery and suffering. They were hold up in a cave, with little water and no food, with no hope of rescue, as Steve well knew. He had only stuck around to figure out why he was here, but now it didn’t matter; it was time to leave. He looked sadly at the others, who wouldn’t be leaving, and felt bad, but it was time for him to go. “Get me out of here!” he muttered, and everything went dark.

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