'I Left No Orphan!"

By Paul Uglem

L'ART

יז

HIS IS A TRUE story that happened in 1939. I was an 18year old marine aboard a navy light cruiser. In those days a private's pay was 21.00 a month, so diversion while on liberty was rather limited.

We were anchored off Long Beach, California, and the following day we were to leave for San Francisco for repairs and then sail for Pearl Harbor. Everyone who could took liberty before getting underway, though I had no particular reason other than take a walk on the boardwalk and watch people enjoy themselves on the Pike, a recreational area.

When the liberty boat pulled up to the float, another marine and I took our time disembarking. What little money we had to spend wasn't worth hurrying about. We strolled down the board-walk as slowly as we could, though after boot camp training a stroll seemed almost impossible. The "hup-two-three-four" still echoed with every step.

It was dark and the beach was deserted, and after walking the halfmile or so to the edge of the Pike, expecting nothing but the usual frustrating liberty, we met two teen-age girls who took a fancy to our uniforms. Our buttons were shining brightly and with our white belts and caps I guess we looked like a couple

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of heroes to them. As we were about to pass them one said something to the other and they stopped a little fascinated. Because I was a teenager myself, the fascination was mutual. We explained that we were sea-going marines, and they explainde that they were from a central California town visiting Long Beach with their town band.

My friend escorted one of the girls to the Pike while the other and I talked. After meeting eye to eye a few times I suggested a walk. I guess I looked pretty good to her erect as the Marine Corps taught me, uniform creased to a sharp edge and still a teen-ager. I was a teal hero.

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We walked far enough away from the Pike so the crowd couldn't see us. Then I suggested walking on the beach. She seemed a little hesitant, but followed when I made the first step. It was a romance inspiring night and being alone with another teen-ager caused some anxiety of anticipation as the board-walk lights dimmed behind us. At this safe distance we sat down and I apologized for not having a blanket. She said nothing.

After sitting for a few minutes we began necking. The sand was getting into our hair and shoes. I made

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a suggestive embrace and she became a little frightened. It was then that I felt shame and felt no insistance. I remember telling her that we were sailing the next day. This seemed to add to the miserable mess we allowed ourselves to get in to. I did not embrace her after that. We just sat and thought for a moment and thought-both feeling the mistake we had made. The walk back to the board walk was solemn and I was filled with regret. We said good-bye without even knowing each other's name. I went back to the ship.

The following morning the news had passed in the marine compartment that I took a girl to the beach. 1.ly uniform was messy with sand and I was ribbed about it. The marine I went ashore with told all, though I didn't suspect he saw us go to the beach. They thought for sure I had "made" her.

Somewhere in a central California town is a family I did not make unhappy, but in accordance with the manliness connected with the service, I let them believe I had an affair on the beach.