Chapter 68

On the 18th of November, a ship, a very small ship, 92 tons, named the Rock Queen, disappeared from the lower reaches of our theater of operations, Southern Lake Huron. Beginning with the temporary letup on the 22nd, anything that could fly was sent on reconnaissance ... and that included us ... worse luck.

We spent two days doing what we had been doing ... flying crop-dusting patterns without the dust. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth, flying under an overcast and lowering sky. When we got to the area where we had ceased flying for the night on the fifteenth, Grace turned on the magnetometer.

Since the lower end is ALL less the directed minimum, we flew from Canada to the US back and forth and back and forth. We didn't find the little ship, no speck of debris floating on the convoluted and dirty waters. Not a life ring, no lifejacket, no pathetic corpse floating face down ... if male, no tattered remains floating face up ... if female. Not a board, or deckhouse or even a mast bobbing ... or not ... in the disturbed and tossing sea. Nothing.

But we did finish out our job.

We couldn't tell General Uncle Bleeker. Our attention was supposed to be on the rescue or recovery of the crew of the Queen. At the altitude we flew and with the bulkers trying for one last run before lay-up ... ALL our attention was on the water. Those damn Lake boats are huge. If it fogged we landed. Right now.

We had to fly to Chicago. We finished our commitment to the United States Geological Service ... the Great Lakes Exploratory Expedition was complete. In spite of adversity ... and certain episodes of sheer stupidity ... we survived. We ended with an enormous number of hours in our logbook ... and an honorary Bachelor of Science degree in Geology from the University of Michigan. The Geology Department found a way around our demands.

Uncle General Harry put in the paperwork for our discharges. We were in for the Duration and it was over. Now we had to deal with the bureaucracy. Discharges took time and time was what the REMF's had plenty of.

Meigs Field in Chicago ... well ... first we flew to Pentwater, loaded up on Wendy burgers and Canadian cut fries ... swiped three bottles of Canada Sauce and had our own burgers while we waited. Charlie Arthur admired the AD-2Q minus the Q so Grace took him for a hop.

"That's a hellofan aircraft. Four twenties? How many rounds?"

"800," I said ... and paused, "You know ... I think they're loaded. We assumed ... but the covers are still attached."

The covers were streamlined plastic prongs that kept debris out of the barrels. and out of the interior of the folding mechanism. This AD-2 trainer still had the leather cannon covers in the wing knee. The leather has a zipper and snaps and the armorer has a choice of access on the inboard gun but the outboard is a little different. During the Korean Conflict nobody bothered with the covers ... either of them ... the cover for the barrels or the inboard gun cover ... too much work and speed was of the essence.

"You know ... that's the same engine as the B-29."

"Upgraded version, 2700 instead of 2100. It's very stable."

Charlie agreed with that, "And a short run takeoff."

"Yeah."

"How is Ben doing on the SNJ?"

Since he knew Ben had it ... the story wasn't necessary. "I don't know. We're going to stop in Lansing on the way back ... we misplaced David's cat."

"You don't need to go that far. She's at the boathouse ... with little surprises."

So, we walked down to the boathouse and there in the corner cuddled up in the ratty sleeping bags was Piper ... and two kittens.

About time you showed up. she thought at both of us. I want some burger and none of that General Stores crap. Dead fish is better than that.

"Yes, dear. David ... you heard the woman. Antler burger and make it snappy."

That man of mine ran off and left me in this condition. Now I know how mom felt.

I heard that on my way out the door.

Grace reported later that Piper had reached an age in her development where she couldn't! help it ... she had an itch and it had to be scratched ... NOW.

She had made her way from East Lansing, where we had 'misplaced' her, the 25 miles to Saint Johns Michigan and the C&O Rail Road to eventually ride a railcar to Ludington. Piper Hobo. Grace didn't try and make me believe that Piper could read ... but she can listen and people talk. She took the Badger to Kewaunee, Wisconsin because she thought if mom got knocked up by a cheese head, and look how she turned out, she couldn't do better than that. Really! Or so Grace said ... Piper said. Get it?