Battered Wings

By Catherine Yee

A single act of violence causes a once loving marriage forged in the furnace of WWII to be almost torn apart in the fiery hell of the Vietnam era. Three-star General Leland Thornton, retired, suffers a severe personality change from an old war wound that causes him to assault his wife of 25 years, sending her to the hospital and landing him in jail. Now they both must work to rebuild the love they once shared and face ghosts from their past. Along the way one of their grown children fights to survive the war-torn skies of 'Nam.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Whiskey Creek Press
• Release date: Feb 1, 2011
• ISBN: 9781603139281

Book preview

The Empty House

Lee entered the silent house in Colorado Springs. He called his wife’s name.

Clare?

The sound echoed through the house. There was no answer. She was gone and the house was a lifeless void. It was 1966, the year Lee would always consider the one that nearly destroyed everything he loved. He walked into the bedroom they once shared and turned on the light. The room was neat, devoid of his wife’s things. Only the furniture remained. Lee spotted a note on his side of the bed. He picked it up and discovered a small jewel box under it. He opened the box and his heart sank. In it were the pilot wings he gave her years ago while recuperating from combat injuries in an air field hospital in England. The diamonds, surrounding the 8th Air Force insignia, were still as bright today as they were in 1943. He had the sweetheart wings made just for her. He took them out of the box and held them tightly in his hand and briefly that sweet moment in time was vivid.

Now, he focused on Clare’s note and he read the words written in Clare’s lovely penmanship: "I’m giving these back to you. You gave them to me that day in the hospital and pledged me your love and I pledged you mine but things seemed to have changed over the years. My love for you is still strong, but, it seems your love for me has faded. All I ask is that you not give these wings to Her. Give them to one of our kids if you want, or throw them in the garbage. Just please don’t give them to Her. At the bottom of the note she simply signed her name: Clare."

How had it come to this, he wondered? It was not her doing; the blame was his and his alone. He’d been an ass—an arrogant, bullheaded ass. She warned him he was beginning to believe the myths about himself, that he was indestructible. He remembered the day he raged at her for begging him not to take on General Miller but he had done it, and gotten thoroughly trounced for his effort. The younger man was more in touch with the newer technology, battle procedures, and Miller was very astute, just as Lee had been during the early years of WWII. In his bitterness he lashed out at her, insinuating that it was her fault for interfering with his career. She had gone quiet then and not said another word about the incident. That made Lee angrier and he decided that day that he would show her who was smarter.

Leland Thornton, a retired Lieutenant General, had finished up what was otherwise a stellar career in the United States Air Force, but his retirement was under clouded circumstances. The flap with the younger man had repercussions all the way to the Pentagon. The fallout led Lee to turn in his retirement notice. When the day of the retirement ceremony arrived, Clare stood beside him, silent and tense. She graciously accepted the congratulatory wishes from all their friends, but they noticed the change in her. They realized that something was drastically wrong between her and Lee.

The Thornton offspring were there also. 1st Lieutenant Paul Thornton was an Air Force F-4 Phantom pilot serving in Tokyo, and 2nd Lieutenant Rebecca Thornton, an Air Force flight nurse, both on leave for the ceremonies. The kids knew something was wrong, but neither parent chose to talk to them and they felt helpless.

Harsh Reality

Thornton walked over to the mirror in the bedroom and looked into it. He saw in the reflection an aging, gaunt man. He stood six feet, one inch tall with broad shoulders. He still had a full head of silver-grey hair. His face reflected his inner turmoil that was in his soul and heart. He still had the disciplined figure of a military man even in his sixty-third year of life.

Then he looked down at the few pictures remaining on the dresser. Only one remained of Clare and it was with the children. She had left that, perhaps as a reminder of what he may have lost forever. He picked up the picture and looked at his wife. She was beautiful then and she was still beautiful. She was five foot, seven inches, statuesque with blond shoulder length hair. To him, she could have passed for a Greek goddess. She had aged well through the years. Her hair was still gold with soft waves. He looked hard at the picture and touched her image.

Oh how he wanted to touch her and tell her how sorry he was for what had happened. The thing that bothered him the most is that he could hardly remember the events that led up to her leaving. The last ten days had been a dream, rather more like a nightmare. The only thing he could clearly recall was waking up in jail. After that he knew only what he had been told.

Lee went back into the living room to find the family phone book with his daughter Becky’s number in Tokyo. He dialed it, ignoring the time difference, desperate to contact her.

I’m sorry, General Thornton. Lieutenant Thornton is not here right now. I am trying to have her located, said the young soldier in charge of guard duty at the barracks.

Damnit, Airman! This is a family emergency! Get off your duff and find my daughter! shouted a very frustrated Leland Thornton.

The guard put him on hold. With an annoyed voice, she came back on the phone. One of the other guards has gone to get her, sir. Just hold the line, General, and hold your temper.

I can speak to your supervisor. Don’t get me irritated! I will do that if I have to!

Calm down, General Thornton. Your daughter was out on the flight line.

All right, I apologize for yelling at you, said General Thornton, his head pounding like a drum. After about ten minutes of holding the phone, he finally heard his daughter on the line.

Yes, Dad? she said.

Your mother has gone and taken all of her things. Do you have any idea where she went—or is? I’ve got to find her.

Rebecca replied, Dad, she’s left you and is also leaving town. She doesn’t want to be found. You treated her like crap and she can’t take it anymore. How can you even ask a question like that after what you’ve done and the way you have treated Mom, so abominably. I’m ashamed of you!

Rebecca, please! I love your mother. I never meant to hurt her. I don’t know what made me do all that. But I am sorry and I need to speak to your mother.

No, Dad. You’re not using me that way. Mom left and she wants to be alone.

Please, Rebecca! I need to know where she is! shouted Lee Thornton wildly into the phone.

I’m sorry, Dad. I have to go. I’m very tired.

Wait, Lee insisted, tell me where she is so I can catch her before she leaves.

What time is it there, Dad?

Lee looked at his watch. It’s about four o’clock.

Somewhat irritated and annoyed, Rebecca replied, It’s too late, she’s airborne. Good night! She hung up. Lee wanted to cry.

He slowly put down the phone. His wife was gone and his daughter didn’t want to speak to him, but she asked the hard questions he had asked himself. Why had he done it, why? Who needed a mistress when he had Clare? The other woman meant nothing to him. He was getting even, but with whom? Clare? She had done nothing to warrant this.

He sank slowly into the wing back chair near the phone table, and with elbows on his knees dropped his head into his hands. Why had he hit Clare so hard that he busted her lip and bruised her face? He brought terror to the woman he loved. The worst part was that he could not really remember having done any of those things. He only knew what he had been told. Nothing he had done in the past few months had made any sense to him or to anyone else. It was as if another person possessed his body, or he had a Dr. Jekyll-Mr. Hyde personality all of a sudden. He was ashamed of himself; he was doing things he would never think of doing normally. Now the woman who had been his source of strength and love for so long had left him.

He sat there and pondered all this, startled when the doorbell rang. He rose and slowly went to the door. A courier delivered a legal, manila envelope to him. He signed for it, took the parcel and closed the door. Lee sank back in the same chair and opened the envelope. Out of it fell a set of keys, the house keys with Clare’s key ring. Now fear gripped Lee’s mind. The rest of the envelope contained legal papers. When he scanned them he realized the document was a petition for legal separation from him. The papers were signed in Clare’s handwriting. Lee leaned back in his chair, his head against the back. Tears of regret filled his eyes and spilled over. My God, what had he done to his beautiful wife to cause her to leave him so completely?

A Little Afternoon’s Delight

He tried to think back to the day he brought Sandra Benning home. He was drunk that day. He had been drinking at the Officer’s Club when Sandra sauntered up. She liked him, he could tell. She had a way of sliding her hand across his back that excited him. She felt so smooth and sexy. Sandra appeared to be ten years younger than Clare and she had a way of walking that made his masculine instincts stand up and salute. They had some drinks together. The bartender eyed him cautiously, hoping he would just go home and not ask for anymore.

What’s the matter, Kyle? I ain’t drunk yet and I can take my business elsewhere, Lee taunted the bartender with slurred speech.

You’ve had way too much to drink, General Thornton, the bartender retorted.

Lee thought about that afternoon, recollecting what had transpired.

He had never done anything like that. Come on, honey, he said to Sandra. Let’s go someplace nice and private. She had a very pleased look on her face. They left together.

Sandra was surprised when Lee pulled up at the neat little ranch-style house not far from the base. Isn’t this your house? she asked.

Yeah, he replied, but the wife is gone all day to a ladies’ thing. She won’t be home for hours. Let’s you and I relax and have some fun.

Sandra giggled and they both staggered inside. Sandra was known for her giggle and wiggle. Suffice to say she had a reputation. She worked on the base and that was stretching the definition of work pretty thin. The wives who encountered her warned their husbands to stay clear or they would have a word or two with the lovely Sandra themselves. Most men heeded their wives’ advice.

Inside Lee decided they both needed a few more drinks, and several drinks later Lee decided it was time to get frisky. One kiss led to another and before long their clothes were peeling off. Lee led her into the bedroom and pushed her down on the bed. Sandra teasingly opened her arms to him and said, Come on, sweetie, let’s see what you’ve got. Lee gleefully pounced on her and that led to more laughter and foreplay. Soon they were both seriously engaged to such a degree that neither heard the front door open and someone call Lee’s name.

* * * *

When Clare pulled in the driveway she happily noted Lee’s car there. Great, she told herself, maybe I can talk him into going out for dinner tonight. He had been so moody and short-tempered since his retirement. She’d been trying to find things to pull him out of his dark mood. She opened the front door and heard voices in the house. She called her husband’s name, Lee?

Then she looked down on the floor and realized there was a trail of clothes, both a man’s and a woman’s leading to their bedroom. Her blood ran cold. She stood there frozen in place, afraid of what she would find next. The next sounds shocked her into action. Out of her bedroom came the sound of human beings in the final stages of climax. She moved swiftly toward the bedroom and stood at the threshold, horrified. There on hers and Lee’s bed was Lee and a woman, naked, rutting like a couple of animals.

Neither person noticed her standing there until they heard her scream, Damn you, damn you! Get out of this bedroom right now!

Her rage broke up the coupling instantly. The shocked man swung around to face his wife whose face was scarlet with rage.

The other woman pulled away from Lee, saying, Oh shit!

Sandra jumped off the bed and grabbed her clothes, throwing them on as best she could with Clare blocking the doorway. Lee was stunned.

W-what are you do-o-ing home so early? he stammered, his voice shaky and full of guilt. The look on her face kept him from asking anything more.

All Clare could say was, Get your ass out of here now and take that piece of crap with you. Don’t you dare ever bring that woman or any other woman into this house ever again! Our home is not a brothel.

Lee got off the bed and started to retrieve his clothes. All he could say was, I’ll take you home, Sandy.

Clare stepped aside to let them both out of the bedroom. Then with an icy voice, she said, Why don’t you find a motel while you’re at it, dear, and finish the job. You’ll not sleep in this bed or this house tonight, or any night soon! she warned. Lee looked at his wife with very cold, penetrating blue eyes that had turned into daggers. Clare stood her ground, her head held up, and returned his hard look with icy, green daggers of her own. Lee and Sandra left. Lee peeled out as he backed out of the driveway and roared down the road toward the main street.

Clare sank into a chair in the living room, too stunned to do anything but sit there for a while. Anger, humiliation and sorrow mixed together, forming such a heavy cloud over her that she could not think. About twenty minutes later the phone rang, causing her to jump. At least it forced her to move. She answered it, finding her friend Janice on the other end. The Caldwell’s house faced the Thornton residence in the cul-de-sac. Jan’s husband was General Joe Caldwell, a good friend of Lee’s. Clare answered in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

Clare, are you okay? Jan asked her friend of many years. Clare didn’t answer right away. Clare? Jan repeated with urgency are you okay? Clare still didn’t answer. Jan said, I’m coming over.

Moving Past The Anguish

Clare was still sitting there in the chair with the phone in her hand. It had not registered with her what Jan had said or the fact that her friend just walked in the door. Jan looked at Clare for a few seconds and sized up the situation. She had seen Lee bring the other woman home, watched as Clare pulled in the driveway an hour after that, like some tawdry movie. She watched as the other woman ran out and jumped in Lee’s car and Lee slammed out of the house, got in the car and left quickly. Jan had a dreadful feeling she knew what had just transpired.

Now, standing there looking at the stunned woman in front of her, she realized that she was sadly correct. She gently took the handset from Clare’s stiff hand and put it back on the cradle. Clare never realized that Jan had hung up. She stepped in front of Clare and pulled the woman to her and held her.

Oh honey, I’m so sorry, so terribly sorry, Jan said.

Clare laid her head on Jan’s chest and the tears came, slowly at first and then a torrent. Her sobs racked her body. She clung to Jan as if she were the only life preserver in an empty ocean. Jan Caldwell did not let go of her friend and would not until the tears had run their course. Finally through choking sobs, Clare spoke, He was laying that piece of trash in our bed. How could he? I don’t understand, oh God, please help me understand. She sobbed, the anguish in her voice so intense her friend rocked her back and forth, trying to ease her grief.

Jan’s only response was, I have no answers, sweetie, only more questions.

As hard as Jan tried, she couldn’t offer her friend any comfort to ease her pain.

Thirty minutes later Clare lifted her head off the shoulder of her friend. Jan got her some Kleenex and Clare wiped her eyes and blew her nose.

Jan, is your husband home? she queried.

Jan thought a minute and looked at her watch. He may be now. Want me to call him to come over?

Just ask him if he would fire up our barbecue grill for me.

Jan was puzzled by the request but said, "Okay, no problem. Um, Clare, what