“It comes almost to our door when there’s a storm. And the Sea Tower really gets its feet wet.”
The road twisted and turned, first along the rocky slope, then above the edge of a beach that Norma thought must be grand in summer.
“There it is!” Lieutenant Warren exclaimed as they rounded a turn. “There’s our Harbor Bells!”
Just as she said this their ears were treated to a shock—a great booming roar shook the silent air.
“Good grief!” Millie exclaimed. “Are we being bombed?”
“Not yet,” Lieutenant Warren laughed. “That came from the fort up there on the cliffs, two miles away. You can see just a little of its wall from here.”
“One gun salute for us,” Norma suggested.
“Hardly that. Probably a practice shot. They don’t waste shots like that on a handful of WACs.”
At that they all laughed. And here they were at the gate of Harbor Bells.
Leaving their bags to be brought in by the truck driver and his assistants, they paired off and marched soldierwise up the broad sloping path to the wide veranda of the hotel.