The General's Driver
Shelley J Alongi

 

The General woke slowly, realizing one moment at a time that he lay beneath comforting blankets, warm, secure, snugly protected against the morning. The first timid exploration of a hand from beneath his protective cocoon informed him that it was, as he had expected, quite cold. As long as he had held command of this army in the cold reaches of the world, he had to admit that he could, in the morning at least, never quite get used to the icy chill which crept into the room, seeping into his bones, laying its glacial hand on everything: tables, desks, walls. Even now in bed it threatened to foray beneath the blankets and steel the precious warmth which had gathered to protect him through the night. In the arms of such luxury, he allowed himself the customary ten minutes to gather his strength, to mentally prepare himself for a day which he knew would be long, exhausting, and, ultimately, rewarding. When he sensed that the moment was right, he pushed the blankets aside, and stood up, ignoring the cold, and shouldering the responsibility of command. Quickly he tidied the bed, pushed a stray lock of hair away from his forehead. He thought it was once again time for a hair cut as he came from behind a screen which separated his bed from his desk and prepared to make himself a pot of very strong coffee. He preferred to do this himself, especially in the morning when he was gathering his thoughts. It was his orderlies and aides concession to the strict military code which demanded that the General be protected and provided for at all times during his service to it. He knew that "they" lurked somewhere in the shadows, but was glad they let him have his private space.

He dressed quickly in fatigues and was pulling on his boots as the coffee�s aroma began to permeate the room. He took a small key from a hook and opened a desk drawer, drawing out a list. He casually glanced at it, nodded. Today he would be assigned a new driver. A new driver? So late in the game? He thought for a moment as the coffee dripped into the pot. Things like this were always cropping up, but so close to a war? Tensions between enemy forces and his own were heightening by the moment, and turnover in staff was, at this moment, undesirable. Oh, well, thought the General, tucking the list into a uniform pocket. And testing the first sip of the coffee, we shall just have to deal with this one, too. He picked up a sealed letter to his wife, and paused a moment. His command post lying in the cold reaches of the world, and his enemy, vying for the same space, was about to come to blows, and damn it all, he wanted her here with him. He choked back a wave of regret as he fingered the letter. All that would have to wait. He took a deep breath and added the sealed letter to the pocket. He hid his sadness in a swallow of coffee and decided the time had come for him to pass into the next section of his day. His ritual now completed, he emerged from his room, and nodded to his bodyguard, who quickly followed him into the cool, crisp morning.

They made their way across the compound and entered the mess tent where the General joined his young, black staff sergeant, Neal Jackson. Quietly acknowledging each others presence, they proceeded to a table lined with wooden benches, and joined the rest of the General�s crew: his orderly, his aide, and a new person whom the General did not recognize.

"This is Jackie Small, your new driver," said Neil Jackson by way of explanation. "She joined staff today and has been briefed. She was transferred from the other base where she worked for the commander of the Tank Division. She is here to take the place of James who was wounded in the attack which heightened the hostilities, Sir. She�s quiet and professional, and, since she�s new, sir, she hasn�t pulled Bear duty yet."

Chuckling slightly and allowing a small smile to creep across the craggy plains of his face, the commanding officer extended his hand to the driver. Jackie liked him at once. The hand shake he gave her was warm, firm, assuring.

"Hello, Jackie."

The low, dulcet tone of his voice warmed her. She felt as if she were being taken into his confidence. No wonder his men liked him. She remembered briefly the awe with which the other drivers had looked at her when she had been chosen for the general�s driver.

"You�ve pulled Bear duty. You�ll like him. He�s a kind man�and he�ll treat you with great respect, Jackie, because you�re a woman. He won�t look down on you, or try to sleep with you. You can be sure of that."

The General quickly glanced at Jackie, took in her tidy appearance, noted the neat way in which she wore her uniform, her short hair, her erect posture. He noticed that she wore no jewelry, that there was a slight sheen of oil under her nails which perhaps time and necessity had deposited there.

"Good morning, General."

"Neal tells me you�re a good driver."

"Neal has done his homework, sir. He received a good reccommendation from the General of the tank division."

"I trust Neal. If he says you�re to be trusted, I believe him."

They ate their breakfast in silence, washing down their reconstituted eggs with hot, strong coffee. Jackie looked discretely at the men who surrounded her. There was neal Jackson, the Sergeant, Clarke Henry, the General�s orderly, Ken Reese, the aide, and finally, the General, whom she knew handled the military�s affairs with inveterate calm. Jackie had served the other General with skill, and felt comfortable in the presence of so much brass and Polish. She easily made small talk with the men, waiting for her instructions.

"You don�t mind if I bring a book, sir?"

"No, of course not. There is a lot of down time."

By way of small talk, the General now finishing his coffee inquired as to what she was reading.

"Crusade in Europe, General Eisenhower�s work on the Second World War ETO."

"Eisenhower?"

He nodded in approval.

"That�s not easy reading."

"No. But I like his personality. He puts personal encounters in his book. It ads a little warmth to the military detail."

"Military detail," said the General absently, now beginning to think about the next part of his day. He quietly made a signal and Neal rose, a cue to everyone that breakfast was finished, and the business of war was at hand.

Over the months, the General found that the assessment of his young staff officer had been correct. Jackie knew her job. Quietly, she served the harried commander of the army which each day drew closer to war with its enemy. She was accompanied regularly by the General�s body guard, his orderly, his aide, and, thought the General, more than a little proudly, by her book. Weekly, they inspected the troops, conducted the clandestine and sometimes open affairs of an army preparing for war. In that time, the General discovred that Jackie Small rarely engaged him in personal conversation, a fact which he found comforting.

"Jackie," he began, sliding into the car one morning and putting his brief case behind the seat, "You don't say anything to me while we're driving. I must confess I�m more than a little curious as to why you don�t try to initiate conversation with me."

"General," said the woman, engaging the ignition, "You always look like you're trying to win the war all by yourself. I figure you have enough people giving you advice. I see your staff hovering around you, see you looking at maps and drawing lines and hear you giving orders, and I figure you need some time to just be silent."

The General nodded. She was right. There was so much activity around him that as the time for war drew closer, he craved the long trips spent in complete silence. Many times he would sit in the car and rest his weary head against the seat, closing his dark brown eyes; eyes that often ached from too little sleep, or too much reading. One day while they made a three hour trip to visit another base to assess their military readiness, Jackie detected his regular breathing. She glanced over quickly and saw that he lay against the window, sleeping. She did not disturb him, only kept her eye out for traffic and the enemy, and did her job. when they arrived, the click of the disengaging key awakened him. He rubbed his eyes and stretched.

"Did I sleep?" he asked unnecessarily.

"Yes, sir, you did."

"You should have wakened me."

"Why, sir. You were obviously tired. I'll be here when you return, sir."

Jackie had her friends on base, those in the motor pool, those on the General�s staff. It wasn�t unusual while she was off duty for her to spend hours chatting with Neil, or one of the other men close to the General. The General discovered that Jackie was amiable, and made conversation easily. She preferred, while in his employment, when she was not called to carry equipment or accompany staff to soldier�s camps or mess halls, to remain in the car and read her books.

"What are you reading now?" he asked on one occasion with more curiosity than the first time he had asked that question.

"I'm reading The memoirs of Ulysses S. Grant, sir."

The General shook his head again in approval.

"Grant�s memoirs are, in my opinion, the finest work on the U.S. Civil War."

"They are detailed. I�m sure I�ll be a while finishing this one."

"Jackie, don�t you read anything else besides military history?"

"Some times. I�m sure, sir, that I�ll be reading your own military history some day."

He peered out the window, took in the flat land surrounding them, glanced to see that the car following, with the body guard was at an easily reachable distance. Momentarily, he turned his gaze back to his silent driver.

"Perhaps. And you�ll be in it. I�ll credit you for being the only one who ever gave me time to contemplate my decisions. You�ll go down in history as the one person close to me who could keep their mouth shut!"

Jackie, though interested in her books, always seemed to know what was taking place around her. She would read for a moment, then look around, surveying her surroundings, checking for inconsistencies, changes in the sceenery. She would park her car in open areas so that she could have a good view of anyone walking within her vicinity. One day, she looked up after reading a page,and swept the scene as usual. She caught sight of the General walking toward the car, straight, tall, confident, followed closely by his body guard. The three exchanged a glance, then she got out to meet them. She came to the General, took his bag, his papers, put them in the trunk. The two men stood talking while she put her book on the floor, and opened the door. The general got in, still talking, then shut the door, and turned to Jackie.

"Yu saw us from a distance. You�re not only a good driver, you keep an eye out for trouble, don�t you."

"You bet, sir. My job is to take care of your car, and you, at least while you�re in my sight, so I intend to keep an eye out for trouble. We are going to war, you know."

The General spied Jackie�s book lying on the seat between them. Taking it into his hands, he looked at it. He focused his dark gaze on the picture of the general dressed regally in the blue uniform of the United States Union Army. He shook his head, sadly.

"Yes, Jackie, I know."

In the days prior to the commencement of war, the General went to the different troop deployments, shaking hands, talking to soldiers, confirming orders to commanders, making sure his army was ready, and knew its job. The outlay of emotion and energy exhausted him. As he slid quietly into the car for the trip back to headquarters, he grew listless and often wearily rubbed his temples. Jackie slid his bags into the trunk and came around to her side of the car. She noticed his distress.

"General? You look like you have a headache."

"I do. It's an awful, sick headache. I'm so damned tired. These men are honed to a fighting edge, one that we haven't seen since the last great war. I think it is the stress. I'll be alright."

Jackie pulled into traffic and kept quiet. Ocasionally she glanced over to see him sitting in discomfort, putting his hands to his head in anguish. Jackie glanced at the gas gage and saw that the tank was almost empty. She looked to see the general half asleep and said quietly,

"I need to fill the tank, sir. I'll get the can out of the trunk."

He grunted, closed his eyes, tried to rest.

She pulled out of traffic, got out, went to the trunk. Fishing around in the trunk, she found a bottle of water, some Aspirin, and the gasoline can. She filled the tank, and came to the General's side of the car. She knocked on the window. He looked up, slid it down. She handed him the water and the Aspirin.

"You look as if you could use this, General."

He sat, stunned, grateful for her act of kindness. He opened the small bottle, swallowed a few of the tablets with a few swallows of water.

"Thank you."

she looked straight ahead. She nodded.

Finally, the day came when the General�s enemy commenced the attack against a shared supply line. It was unfortunate that last minute peace efforts had failed. Now, the slow atrition of enemy forces began, severely restricting the General�s movements. He buried himself in the office with Neil and the rest of his staff, keeping track of troop movement and talking by radio to his tactical commanders. Then, Christmas came. A watch was posted around the General�s headquarters. The two armies made a truce. None would fire a shot till the day after christmas. the General held a Christmas party. He found Jackie in deep conversation with Neal Jackson, holding a glass, smiling. Jackie looked up as the General approached their table.

"Are you going to join us?" asked the young officer, beckoning for the General to sit with them.

The General sat down, reached for a glass which a waiter handed him.

"Not for long. I have to make the rounds, you know."

He glanced around the table, smiled a little more easily than he had in recent days.

"jackie? No book today?"

"It�s in my room. Later on tonight I�ll become a sack rat. Now, it�s time for friends."

He chatted with them for a while, showed them some pictures.

"This is your wife?" asked Jackie, looking at a medium-build woman with brown hair and lively, blue eyes. "She is very beautiful. I know you miss her."

The General sobered.

"Yes, I do miss her. Especially tonight."

Inspired by the moment, Jackie pulled out some pictures. She showed the two men her mother and father, her sister.

"You�re not married?"

"No. Not yet."

She smiled.

"One man told me once I was the only woman he knew who could resite the names of German generals. I suppose that might scare a few prospects."

"Are you looking?"

"Not in a hurry, General," she said. "I don�t want to get married during a war. Emotions are high and sometimes people make bad decisions. I�d rather wait. I�m really happy with serving and reading."

The General nodded. He was surprised and yet admired her straight forward attitude. How many people did he know who had made the wrong decision? Too many, he thought sadly, as he gathered his pictures and his glass and prepared to go to another table. Too many.

As the general turned away, Neal spoke.

"He likes you. You do him good, Jackie. I think those silences help him. You don't know how desperately he needs them. If you sat in on a strategy session with all our allies and saw the grief it sometimes gives him, you would know just how much your silence helps.

Only one thing, Jackie," admonished the General's right-hand man.

"Yes?"

"Don't mention his wife. They're a very close couple. He misses her terribly. Sometimes I come into his office and find him surrounded with his pictures and her letters. Our General is a very competent and clearheaded man, but there's just something about his family that gets to him. He really misses them."

A year passed. After being thoroughly beaten by the general's military tactics, the enemy surrendered. The war was over. the general, perhaps reacting to the sudden release of incredible pressure, snapped at his staff, then apologized profusely. He quietly approached Neal Jackson.

"Find Jackie. I want to go for a long drive. I think..."

Neal nodded, and put in a call to her room.

"Jackie, the General wants you to take him for a drive."

She sounded surprised.

"He didn't give me anything on the schedule for today, Neal."

"I know, Jackie. I think it's that he has just had a bad day and he needs a break. You're always so even tempered; he just needs to get out of here for a while."

"I'll be there in ten minutes, then. I'll just bring my book."

Jackie met the General in their usual spot, waited for him to slide into the car. He climbed in quietly, sighed heavily. she thought he looked sad. She hadn't seen such sadness in any man's eyes since before her time in the service when she had met someone she had wanted to marry. She kept her eyes on his face for a moment, suddenly remembering her first encounter with another pair of expressive eyes. Her hands froze on the wheel. the general seemed to sit quietly under her scrutiny, or maybe it was that he was too involved in his thoughts to notice the shameless way in which Jackie small looked at him.

"Jackie?"

they both seemed to notice at the same time that her gaze had lingered slightly too long.

"Oh, I'm sorry, General."

Jackie slid the key into the ignition, resuming her professional stance.

"Please forgive my indiscretion, sir."

"It's alright," he said, the tension of the day, and the exhaustion plainly visible on his face and heard in his voice, "not to worry."

There was no more conversation for a while. Then she spoke quietly, her eyes on the road.

"General, you look sad."

He spoke to her from far away, not bothering to open his tired eyes.

"I'm tired. It's been a long war. I think it's just the pressure: the release of it, I mean. I miss my wife, and I just lost my temper with everyone. Let's go on the North Highway for a while. Just keep driving."

"Sure, General."

Jackie smoothly pulled the car onto the North Highway. But something made her look at him. He had his hands pressed against his eyes, tears were slipping between his fingers.

"General? Is there something I can do? I don't usually ask. You know."

She heard him sigh, catch his breath. Then he pulled his hands away from his face, let her see his eyes. He returned his gaze to the window without speaking.

Soon they came to a wooded area. He turned his gaze to her.

"Okay. Here."

Jackie drove the car to the side of the road, and let him out. He walked quickly toward the trees. He leaned heavily against one of the them. Sure there was noone around, he lay his head against the bark and began to sob uncontrollably. During the past eighteen months he had experienced different feelings: sadness, responsibility, separation, but today it had all overflowed and in one moment he had finally realized he needed to get away. He felt the pressure, the tenseness release as the tears which came so easily coarsed down his cheeks. Slowly, calm returned. He walked through the trees, breathing in the refreshing air, the scents of nature'� renewal. When he had regained control, restored his sense of equanimity, he returned to the car.

Jackie had remained at a discrete distance, engrossed, as usual, in a book. Now, she got up, fitted the key into the trunk, and removed a blanket, a bottle of water, and some Cleanex. Returning to her side of the car, she quietly handed these things to the General. He took them, nodded.

"Thank you."

"Of course, sir. Back to base?"

He turned his face to her. She saw the tracks the tears had made, saw the dirt streeks, something perhaps none other had seen. He didn�t seem to mind that she had seen him in his unguarded moment. Quietly, he nodded yes, and then set to restoring his composure. Jackie took the blanket which still lay between them, and with sure hands, used to such tasks, unfolded it, and covered him with it. The Cleanex and the water she left in his hand. He turned to her once again.

"Thank you. You are very kind."

"General, I have spent many hours with children; I know when comfort is required. Get some rest, sir, we have about a two hour drive, and that should do you good."

Jackie put the key into the ignition. She eased the car onto the road and looked through the corner of one eye. The General�s head was against the window, his eyes closed, and she knew he slept.

The day after surrender, the General caught cold. Jackie had a week to put her life in order while he recovered. She couldn�t say she wasn�t happy about this: for in the time she had spent travelling the countryside, her papers had become somewhat disarrayed. Besides, she was preparing to return to her country. Her time with the Army was over, her heart now turned toward home and her small holdings there.

The days were full of organizing, demobilization, so it was inevitable, a month after surrender, when all the General�s troops had been returned to their former stations, that the General, too, would go home. Finally, the call from Neal Jackson came, and Jackie prepared to drive the General to the airport.



The General slid easily into the car, a position which had grown comfortable for him over the last eighteen months. He deposited a bag at his feet.

"Shall I put this in the trunk for you, sir?"

"No, Jackie. I want to keep it here."

Jackie slid her key into the ignition and began the three-hour trip to the airport. She noticed that the General seemed rested, alert. Gone was the distracted countenance of the preceding months. He looked out of the window, taking in the hills, the green scenery.

"Spring is coming," he commented, looking at some grazing cattle.

"Yes."

The war had done relatively little damage to this area, and Jackie thought that drinking in the beauty had begun to restore him. Sadness briefly descended over him as he said:

"There are so many who will never see spring again; not only in our Army, but the other one. It is a sad thing that men have to fight each other. A sad, but unfortunately necessary thing; so I suppose we must excel in this activity."

Jackie didn�t say anything. She signaled for a lane change.

Soon, without much further conversation, they arrived at the airport, and Jackie got out, and took the General�s bags out of the trunk. She brought them to him.

The General got out of the car, and hesitating for a moment, removed the bag which he had placed on the flor. He took out a book and extended it to the woman.

"I want to give you this before I leave the base."

Jackie took the book from the General�s hand, turned it so that she could read the gold lettering on the black cover. She gasped.

"Eisenhower's work on the battle fields of Europe!"

She fairly shrieked with unprofessional joy. For the first time in a long while a smile spread across the General's face and his eyes sparkled.

"Thank you, sir," she said almost choking on the words, "I never thought to read such a book."

"In the last days of the war I contacted the school and had the librarian there send me Eisenhower�s book. They probably wondered why in the world I wanted Eisenhower's work on Europe, but I'm a four star general in supreme command so I suppose they thought it wise to send me the book."

She reverently touched the book, and as the General turned to meet his plane, she thought she could have hugged him.

"Thank you for all your work; all your hours, and most of all, Jackie, your silence."

He took her hand, and for the first time, she saw on his face, unrestrained gratitude.

"This war was hell, but somehow I knew when I got into that car for all those trips that we�d make it. Amazing what a simple act of silence can accomplish."

"It was an honor, sir."

Their eyes met, perhaps for the longest gaze they had held in their eighteen month relationship, and in it was sealed a lifelong bond of friendship.

"Please come and see us when you have a chance, Jackie. I�m sure my wife will like you very much."

"Thank you, sir."

The General turned and walked toward the air strip, and Jackie, as she had so often done, got into the car, and slid the key into the ignition.

 

 

Copyright © 2000 Shelley J Alongi
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"