.. It was nice. You are a good kisser, Mister.”I knew that the universe had a sadistic sense of irony but this was over the top. Somehow the universe sent me back to live through Pearl Harbor Day, and I was going to be right in the middle of it.“What time is it, please,” I asked feeling scared.“It’s just about six AM. Why?”“Are you heading past, or near Wheeler? I really need to get there like RIGHT NOW,” I said with just a bit too much emotion.Clair smiled. “We are heading to Wheeler. Jenny and I are meeting General Wilson from stateside, to help him and his aides get film for something or another. We are public relations assistants at Wheeler. Come on and we’ll get you to the base right away.”I didn’t stop to think about how the late Phil Rassmussen got himself to this diner. All I could think about was getting to Wheeler and finding a way to get their planes in the air to meet the Japanese and slow them down long enough to get some of the fleet out to sea where they wouldn’t be. "You're those people who arrived yesterday. Do you have a means of transporting these supplies?" We will deal with whatever you have for us," I assured him with a smile. He looked at us skeptically on hearing this."Who is your Quartermaster? He will need to sign for these supplies each time," he wanted to know next, as he made a notation in his ledger."This is Lieutenant Gwyn O'Connell. She is our Quartermaster," I told him, indicating Gwen, who smiled at him."You have women in your company?" he demanded, angrily."Of course! Over half of our Company are women," I informed him. "And I wouldn't do anything to anger them, if I were you, unless you like looking like a pink frog," I added with another smile."Yes, Mark, this one would look good as a frog," Gwyn said, with a giggle, before turning to the fat Quartermaster. " Would you like a little demonstration?" she demanded. The Quartermaster didn't appear to be totally convinced by our remarks."Of course, you would also look good as a.
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