I immediately felt my insignificance, for I was only a Lieutenant, and around me were Colonels, Majors and Captains, and on account of this subordinance I knew my place demanded reticence rather than verbosity. Therefore, when introduced I merely told her quite formally how happy I was to know her and then I closed shop with all the good intentions of a huge, triple-locked, steel safe. However, Eileen, for this was her name, had the master combination for unlocking the deposit box of pentup conversation. She started it, but after she had been going for two or three minutes, rank did not amount to anything to me, because I was quite sure, as I had been several times before and have been several times since, that this was the one girl God had made for Elmer. So to me Rank was business and Love was pleasure, and pleasure superseded business.
Versatility was this girl’s middle name, and to my great surprise she even had a conversational knowledge of aerial observation, which is, indeed, unusual for a woman. Perhaps the reason she was so friendly to me was that I had some knowledge of aviation myself, and she wanted to learn more. She asked me no questions, however, simply volunteered her own information, so I felt she could not possibly be a spy, but whether she was or not it didn’t matter to me, for I was thoroughly convinced that there never before had been a girl like this and there never could be another afterwards.
While dining, it developed that I was especially anxious to get a method for the rapid adjustment of artillery fire on moving targets. I explained to her that while it was no easy matter to make an adjustment on a moving target even in a quiet sector in closed warfare, the observer, at least, had the advantage of knowing where the battery was located, what the battery’s signal panels would look like and what code signals both would use and what method of fire the battery would pursue. But in a war of movement in which we were engaged, our own batteries were constantly on the move, and even if we did find a battery that was not moving there was no way of finding what code call it had been assigned, for the reason that they never displayed their panels as prescribed when taking a temporary position. So I explained in a careless way just what difficulties I had to surmount before reaching a successful method satisfactory for all conditions. Perhaps I said a little more than I should, but I couldn’t help it. I simply had to talk to this girl. She had the art of flattery well in hand, for she delighted me by demanding what business I had serving as an ordinary observer with my superior knowledge of things, whereupon I told her what a great man I really was—that I was the Operations Officer for the Air Service of the entire Wing, which consisted of six Corps, and that I was only in this drive doing very special work. This sounded bigger than it really was, but it seemingly got by, for she seemed very sympathetic from the first. I was quite sure I had won my happy home.
That night, upon an improvised stage in one of our huge airplane hangars, she sang. Galli-Curci, Breslau, Schumann-Heink or Farrar had nothing on her. She trilled and as she trilled, I thrilled. I even had wild ideas of a little home in California and everything. After the performance was over I reported for duty and we started to walk back to the main quarters together, she having spurned the proffer of one of my superior officer’s car. I had just made a grand and glorious spiel about the beautiful night, and the myriads of twinkling stars in the heavens, and how wonderful it was to be walking along in the lovely delight of it all with such a charming and entertaining companion, and how I dreaded to think that in the morning I must go out to fly again and might never come back to all these wonderful things.
I was raving and sputtering away, the enslaved victim of temperament, sentiment and ephemeral love. In brooding over the possible tragedy of the next day I was, of course, fishing for sympathy, expecting her to say, “Oh, don’t talk like that,” or something similar to jolly me along, but she evidently had had that line pulled on her before.
“You know, Lieutenant,” she smilingly said in a voice as welcome as that of a dying aunt about to give you a hundred thousand dollars, “I’ve been thinking of the wonderful work you are doing, and while I was singing my first song to-night I looked down at you and I had an inspiration which I think will help you.”
This was the highest compliment I had ever been paid in my life. I had disgusted people, displeased them, and even been repulsive to some, but this was the first time I had ever been the cause of inspiring any one. I thought it was the psychological moment to put the question. I had previously concluded that when a woman begins to talk about inspiration she has fallen in love herself, so without inquiring further about this particular inspiration, I turned to love.
“Eileen,” I said, and my voice quivered, for I had not called her that before—it had been Miss ——, “do you know, I want to ask you a question.”
She said nothing, and I did not look, though I was certain that she had modestly turned her head away from me, bashfully anticipating the fatal question which was sure to come.
“Do you know, Eileen,” I stammered on, nodding my head affirmatively in order to carry along with my words additional evidence of my sincerity, “I have been wondering why you have paid this attention to me to-night and have been heedless of the pressing attentions of the Colonels, the Majors and the Captains. I don’t like to talk like this so soon, but you are leaving to-morrow and I might never have another opportunity.”