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Homecoming
Homecoming
Homecoming
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Homecoming

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Is it ever possible to truly come home? Following the second World War, Stannard Pickering has decided that he has tired of his wild bachelor ways and vows to seek matrimonial bliss with one of the women from his colorful past. However, the war's shadow has touched even the little college town of Junction City, Indiana, and even the spirit of Homecoming cannot completely banish it from his mind. Hidden in the pages of Stannard's little black book lies the answer to all of his woes--or perhaps it is right in front of him?

LanguageEnglish
PublisherJames Dedman
Release dateJan 13, 2019
ISBN9780463546048
Homecoming
Author

James Dedman

James C. Dedman lives in a rural community in the Midwest, forgotten by the modern world, presiding over an empire of various barnyard critters. An avid Civil War Reenactor and Historian, he enjoys researching genealogy, visiting historical locales, and raising chickens. An author of over 20 novels, he has also directed several independent films, a documentary and even a few plays. A Woman of Consequence marks his ebook debut, with more to follow. A practicing attorney at-law in order to fund his research, in his off time he gathers material for his books by making frequent trips to the West. He is the proud father of three girls, all of whom can sit a horse and fire a gun. He must always defer to his wife of over thirty years, however, as she is the one who feeds his horse.

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    Book preview

    Homecoming - James Dedman

    Homecoming

    By James C. Dedman

    Edited By Daryl Debunhurst

    Copyright 2016 James Dedman

    Smashwords Edition

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Disclaimer: This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to people living or dead (Except historical figures) is purely coincidental)

    Dedicated to Cherie Kesler, my favorite sorority girl, who insisted several chapters be rewritten so as to be consistent with Scottie’s character.

    Table of Contents

    Chapter 1: "A Homecoming Prologue"

    Chapter 2: The Black Book

    Chapter 3: The Girls of 1941

    Chapter 4: Back to Cumberland County

    Chapter 5: Summer By the Lake

    Chapter 6: "Little Italy"

    Chapter 7: Beginning School

    Chapter 8: Back to Campus

    Chapter 9: Pearl Harbor

    Chapter 10: A Lovely Evening

    Chapter 11: A Christmas Ambush

    Chapter 12: Murder

    Chapter 13: Fort Benjamin Harrison

    Chapter 14: A New Leaf

    Chapter 15: Camp Toccoa and Beyond

    Chapter 16: The Bonfire

    Chapter 17: Aldbourne

    Chapter 18: The Parade and the Game

    Chapter 19: Uppotery Airfield

    Chapter 20: The Homecoming Dance

    Chapter 21: The Night of Nights

    Chapter 22: Recovering From a Hangover

    Chapter 23: Stella

    Chapter 24: Hays, Kansas

    Chapter 25: Bastogne

    Chapter 26: A Surprise Visitor

    Chapter 27: Epilogue – West of Hays

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Chapter 1

    A Homecoming Prologue

    Fall 1945

    Homecoming is a very unique American tradition on college campuses across the nation, a practice that began at the University of Illinois in 1910. A number of other colleges also claim the credit for this unique tradition, but in the Midwest, Illinois began the ritual of alums returning to their alma mater for a special visit and linking the occasion with a football game and other festivities. Certainly that is where Western Indiana State Teachers College got the idea when they had their first homecoming in 1915.

    The College was built in Junction City in western Indiana in 1890 as an institution of higher learning designed to turn out teachers for the public school system of Indiana, and the political influence of Senator Lionel O. Powers saw it established in his old hometown rather than the county seat of Cumberland County a few miles away at Centerville. For fifty-five years the college grew slowly, but in 1945 plans were underway to double the campus size and for the little college to become a small university. This was in no small part due to the G.I. bill providing low cost tuition paid stipends to the returning veterans of World War Two.

    The end of the war had already seen a rapid rise in student inquires and enrollments. The small college, soon to be university, saw their enrollment for the fall of 1946 nearly double. There was construction and planned expansion all over the campus to prepare for this major change.

    Junction City had always been the second city in Cumberland County since its founding in 1805 at the juncture of an old Indian trail with the National Road. Centerville to the west may have been the county seat, but with the college in Junction City it become a quiet campus town and was now about to experience a post-war boom unprecedented in the city’s 140-year history.

    Amidst this happy future filled with promise was the 1945 Homecoming. It would certainly be the last small homecoming and future years would see the campus swelling and growing every year. For those alums wanting to remember the campus as it was in the 20s and 30s this was their last real chance to see it that way. There had already been one major construction project during the war that had changed the vistas on the college grounds considerably; namely the student union located in the middle of campus.

    Interest in the first homecoming since the conclusion of the Second World War had definitely spiked among the alumni and a large group was expected for Homecoming 1945. The fraternities and sororities were working had on the usual parade floats and house decorations to impress all attendees. The all important homecoming dance had been assigned to a young new professor: Evelyn Curtis, a handsome woman of only twenty-seven. The war had given her promotion to full professor and she was an important part of the college now despite her youth.

    Although Professor Curtis sounded like she was a posh Englishwoman, she had in fact been born on a little farm just west of the college in the last year of the First World War. But her rural roots were unknown to most of her colleagues. She had gone to the University of Indiana and then done some graduate work at Western Indiana before becoming a teaching assistant, then associate professor, then full professor. Professor Curtis had published some minor works on American history and gotten her doctorate from the University of Chicago. The college President considered her a great asset to the little college about to become a university. She was both brilliant and political, and had charmed a number of alumni into making large donations during the war to help build the prestigious student union building, which was the pride and centerpiece of the current administration to date. That she was in charge of returning alums was very sensible.

    Evelyn Curtis had studied the names of the alumni who promised to return. She had written and lobbied for the presence of the former history professor whose job she had gotten and in whose lovely little cabin out on Indian Lake south of town she now lived. Thus she was very pleased when a letter arrived announcing that Stannard Walter Pickering would be in attendance this year.

    This is the story of that special homecoming and its aftermath.

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    Chapter 2

    The Black Book

    Monday, October 8, 1945

    Stannard Walter Pickering was a very thin man. He stood just over five feet ten inches tall, but weighed less than 150 pounds. He was thirty-four now and cut a rather romantic figure wherever he went with his dark, wavy hair, his brown, dreamy eyes and his thin black mustache. Pickering always imagined that he looked like the actor William Powell from the Thin Man picture series. He certainly looked very dashing in his military uniform with the sharp Eisenhower jacket showing his rank of major and his division as the 101st Airborne. Just now he was moving from the Pullman car on the Memphis Express out of New York City, headed for the club car at the end of the train. He had selected this particular coach for the journey because it was directly in front of the club car, where he planned to spend most of his time on this trip with its fully stocked bar, drinking, smoking, and, most importantly, drinking.

    Just out of New York City he and his friends had gone to dinner in the Dining Car. The Memphis Express was attempting to be a luxury train again now that the war was over. The meal had been excellent, as was his company. Lionel Rusty Powers and his wife Margaret, called Scottie, were his best friends in the whole world. Rusty wore a uniform like Stannard, but in the rank of captain. Scottie had on a British lieutenant’s uniform. They were traveling together as they had since England, heading for the great state of Indiana, a place Stannard and Lionel called home. For Scottie it would be her first visit. After dinner they all went to the club car and had found the whiskey served there to be excellent. After a few drinks, Stannard had suggested they retire to the Pullman.

    The car’s steward had made up the beds while they were gone. The lower bed was for the Powers’ and the upper berth for Stannard. Everyone grabbed their overnight bag and headed for the men and women’s lounges respectively. Rusty, as usual, quickly changed and was back to the Pullman before Stannard had finished brushing his teeth. Stannard grinned. He was happy that Rusty was so excited about his young bride, the beautiful Scottie. Rusty was a very lucky man to have her.

    Stannard did not change into his night clothing. He took out a cigarette and had a seat, smoking by the window in the Men’s Lounge while giving Rusty and Scottie enough time to begin whatever they were going to do in the lower berth. When he finished the cigarette, he went back to the Pullman. He tossed his bag on top, then listened for the telltale sound of lovemaking from the Powers’ lower berth for just a moment outside their thick curtain. He then smiled, shook his head with appreciation, and headed back to the Club car alone.

    Stannard knew the passion the Powers’ shared and had no plan to go to bed until they were worn out and fast asleep. He had a large cigar, which he began to smoke as he seated himself in a comfortable over-stuffed chair and the waiter brought him some more whiskey. Then he settled back and relaxed to the steady clicking of the rails taking the train westward.

    Just keep that flowing, brother, he told the young man tending bar. Stannard’s voice had a smooth quality that sounded like professional lecturer. He tipped the young man well and sipped his whiskey, puffing occasionally on the delightful Cuban cigar he had purchased just before getting on the train in New York City.

    Stannard had lost count of the drinks but had nearly finished the cigar when he looked up to see Rusty and Scottie coming into the club car. They were wearing robes and had smiles too large to be polite. Scottie’s long red hair was down now and all tossed all about her head and shoulders. It ran far down her back when not contained atop her head.

    What on earth are you doing here? Stannard challenged them both as they sat together on the sofa opposite him. Scottie slipped out of her bedroom slippers, tucked her feet under her, and sat on them.

    Why aren’t you in bed, Doc? Rusty asked him, as if he did not know. Doc was the nickname hung on him by the soldiers in his unit when they learned he was a doctor of philosophy: a history professor.

    I was rather hoping the two of you would exhaust yourselves early and give me some peace, Stannard replied in a stuffy sort of way, teasing them.

    Ai tol’ him we were makin’ too much noise, Scottie poked her husband gently in the ribs. From her voice you could hear the reason for the nickname. She was from Scotland and every sentence she made tortured the English language with her thick accent-- when Stannard had first met her he could barely make out a word she said. She was a tall woman, nearly Stannard’s height, with auburn hair and the most beautiful green eyes. But Scottie needed to be tall. Her husband Rusty was a giant at nearly six and a half feet. He was clean-shaven and handsome, built like a football player. They were a very handsome couple.

    I should have brought a companion on this trip as well, Stannard teased them. I knew from the ship it would be like this.

    Ai’m sorry she would no’ come, Scottie seemed sincere in that. Ai think she just couldna’ leave her family. Ai have no close relatives and . . .

    You would have ditched a mother, father, and twelve brothers and sisters to be with Rusty, Stannard cut her off. Scottie’s devotion to Rusty was wonderful to behold. She did not argue; she just looked lovingly at her husband for a moment. In fact, you two are an inspiration to me, he told them. You should know that.

    Inspiring you in what way? Rusty was instantly suspicious of the compliment.

    Well, as you know, I was way off the notion of marriage, Stannard recited. Now I am thinking that with the war over, I should reconsider the matter and give some lucky girl a chance to make me happy!

    Rusty and Scottie both laughed with him, but Rusty saw that he was serious. Where are you going to find this girl, Doc? he asked his old friend.

    Well, we are going to Homecoming, Stannard reminded them. I have my old black book, might as well give some of the returning alums a second chance at me, eh?

    Wha’? Scottie did not understand. She had only been with them since the war, but Rusty and Doc’s friendship went back to well before that.

    Doc’s little black book was famous, Rusty explained with a wry smile. It is a list of all the girls he considered dating. Everyone wanted a peek inside-- it was considered first rate reading.

    I have it here, Stannard produced the worn book from his buttoned coat pocket. Indulge yourself. It is not that amazing. He tossed it to Rusty, who only had time to open it slowly before Scottie snatched it from his hands and began reading.

    Girls’ names, phone numbers an’ some details; some rather rude details! she scornfully noted in her thick accent, flashing her green eyes between him and the pages of his book.

    Just important facts to keep them straight, Stannard insisted.

    Wow, it goes back a-ways, Scottie whistled.

    To my high school days, Stannard explained. I doubt the old entries will be of much value to me now. And of course the newer ones are back in the old world, he concluded, shrugging.

    An’ you have a German girl in here! Scottie snapped sharply. What’s wi’ that? She pointed an accusing finger at the page with the name of the offending girl, near the end of the book.

    ‘Had’, not ‘have’ is the operative word there. But she assured me many times that she was not a member of the Nazi Party, Stannard teased her. There is an Austrian girl there too; Elsa, I think her name was.

    Flat an’ dull is wha’ you noted about her, Scottie continued, leafing further through the book’s many pages.

    I was certainly not referring to her chest, Doc muttered, slightly under his breath. Scottie snapped him another irritated look. Her green eyes could flash fire when she did that.

    Hey, is your first wife in there? Rusty tried to look over Scottie’s shoulder. She was dominating the book and seemed unlikely to hand it over to him.

    You speak like there was a second, Stannard corrected.

    Well you ARE speaking of getting married again, Rusty pointed out.

    Yes, she is there, Stannard confessed. Scottie looked up at him with her green eyes, expecting him to supply a name for her. Nancy Bernhard. You will find years marked at the top of the pages. Look under 1935. A very bad year for me, but not as bad as the year that followed, He very quietly muttered the last bit.

    Nancy Bernhard, Scottie read and the name sounded so foreign from her Scottish lips. Nancy Bernhard, smooth brunette. Tha’s all? You married her?

    What can I say? Stannard declared. "We are all entitled to one giant mistake in our lives. Look to your man Montgomery; he had Market Garden."

    "You an’ Market Garden! Scottie snapped back at him, slapping her free hand on the couch with great irritation. Monte was a great general! I dinna care wha’ you say about him!" Scottie raged, shaking her finger at him. It was not the first time they had this argument.

    I said everyone is entitled to one monumental and massive mistake, Stannard reminded her with a paternal smile.

    "Is he e’er goin’ to get off Market Garden?" Scottie asked her husband.

    Look, we don’t feel the same way about Monte that you do, Rusty tried to explain it to her for at least the twentieth time.

    When ya married me, ya lost your own opinion abou’ such things, she reminded him playfully, but with some note of truth as well.

    So I am supposed to say what a great general Montgomery was? Rusty asked, teasing her back.

    He may have to but I, at least, can stick to the truth, Stannard interjected.

    Ai suppose you both prefer General Patton? Scottie challenged them in a falsely superior tone.

    He did not save us at Bastogne! Stannard now snapped back reflexively, as if on cue from some part of another long standing argument with her.

    We did not need saving, Rusty reminded her with equal passion.

    Still, for my part, ai am glad he got there, Scottie ended the argument, kissing Rusty lovingly and rolling her eyes at both of them.

    Oh children, get a room, Stannard complained when Rusty kissed her back for far too long. Off to bed! I will be along when it is safe and quiet.

    Scottie giggled, stood up, and slipped her feet back into her slippers. She took Rusty by the hand and smiled at him. Compliantly, he toddled off after her. Scottie suddenly stopped and tossed the black book back to Stannard. He caught it

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