Winds of Change (American Century Book #5)

Gilbert Morris

Description

The close-knit Stuart clan becomes personally involved in WWII when several members of its younger generation go off to fight. Will and Clint are strongly rooted in their Christian heritage, but Adam's life has been aimless and bitter. While he fights his toughest battle within himself, he endangers the men under his command. The three cousins' military exploits take them from the Arkansas hills to the jungles of Guadalcanal, from Hollywood to the forests of Germany. The Stuarts at home lean heavily on faith and family as they pray for their sons. Will the men return safely to the women and families who love them?

Informations

• Publié par: Baker Publishing Group
• Date de parution: 01 août 2007
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781585585793
• Langue: English

Extrait

© 1997 by Gilbert Morris

Published by Revell a division of Baker Publishing Group P.O. Box 6287, Grand Rapids, MI 49516-6287 www.revellbooks.com

Ebook edition created 2013

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—for example, electronic, photocopy, recording—without the prior written permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews.

ISBN 978-1-5855-8579-3

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is on file at the Library of Congress, Washington, DC.

Scripture is taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
To Lillian Finley—faithful friend From Johnnie
C ONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication

PART ONE: Before the Deluge
Prologue
1. A Slight Case of Assault
2. “Wendy Has a Man at Last!”
3. The Stuart Clan
4. Too High a Price
5. Man without a Star
6. Day of Infamy

PART TWO: Baptism in Fire
7. Combat Engineer
8. “Tell Me about My Father”
9. A Decision for Adam Stuart
10. Men at War
11. New Pilot
12. Fall from Grace

PART THREE: Wings over England
13. Death over Germany
14. “I Still Love You”
15. Death from the Skies
16. A New Man
17. Over the Edge
18. The Last Chance

PART FOUR: Enemy Territory
19. Survival
20. “They’re the Enemy”
21. Angel in Black
22. A Matter of Family
23. “I’ll Be Back”
24. Homecoming
Epilogue

Other Books by Author
Back Cover

P ROLOGUE
A mericans measure time in many ways. One of these methods seems to be counting off history by decades, giving these periods names that indicate their nature—for example, “The Roaring Twenties.”
The thirties in American history will be remembered as the time of the Great Depression. It was a time Americans went hungry, yet it was also a period when the country grew together as a nation, neighbors learning to help neighbors. There was a solidarity of the people of the republic during this period.
This decade ended sharply, almost abruptly. It could, in one sense, be said to have ended on December 15, 1939, and one could find a symbol of the old giving way to the new in Atlanta, Georgia, on the evening of that particular date.
Limousines lined up in front of the Atlanta Grand Theater, which was decorated to resemble Twelve Oaks, the plantation where Scarlett O’Hara dallied with her beaus.
At six o’clock the theater was roped off to keep the stars from being crushed by the happy mob. Clark Gable put in his appearance at eight-forty, and a few women fainted at the sight. Rebel yells in the street greeted this premiere of Gone with the Wind , and when the three-and-a-half-hour spectacle was over, Margaret Mitchell, the author of the best-selling novel, gave a speech. In quavering tones she said, “It has been a great thing for Georgia and the South to see the Confederates come back.” Gone with the Wind , in one sense, closed the door on hard times. America saw the rich opulence of Tara and the antebellum South as it was enthroned in glittering Technicolor as a farewell to the gritty black-and-white hardships of the 1930s.
Something called Tara Mania burst on the American scene. Everyone had read the book, and now everyone saw the movie. Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler were discussed as if they were real people. The book won the 1937 Pulitzer Prize and was translated into twenty-seven languages. Across America people were naming their newborns Rhett, Ashley, and Melanie.
But if Gone with the Wind brought down the curtain on the 1930s—another sort of wind was sweeping over Europe, stirred and fanned by the voice of Adolf Hitler. Many Americans tried to ignore the dark shadow that Hitler cast over Europe, and Gone with the Wind was influential in bringing people out of their homes to a theater to immerse themselves in a past that seemed relatively safe. Americans looked ahead with a hope colored with apprehension, wondering what sort of America would emerge.
There was in the air the knowledge that a trial by fire was hovering over the world. America was about to be thrown into a crucible—and while Rhett and Scarlett could act out their fantasies on the screen, Americans from Maine to Florida, from Oregon to Virginia, knew that this decade would be unlike any other.
The fifth decade in the twentieth century would be a time of war.
A S LIGHT C ASE OF A SSAULT
A high-pitched, keening scream split the night air startling the pedestrians who were strolling down the canyon between two rows of towering buildings. Dwellers of Los Angeles were not unaccustomed to such sounds, and most of them merely gave a glance to the black car with Los Angeles Police Department emblazoned on the side as it careened around a corner, tires squealing.
Los Angeles, California, had become in some sense the dreamland of America, but as one wag put it, “Everything loose rolls right to Los Angeles.” The invasion of the city by teeming hosts of hopeful actors and actresses had begun in the twenties, and now others were drawn to the movie capital of the world. What had been a sleepy small town in which jaywalking had been one of the most serious offenses handled by police had begun to feel the pressures of a new urbanization sprawl. Hollywood had not yet become what S. J. Perelman would call it—“A dreary industrial town controlled by hoodlums of enormous wealth, the ethical sense of a pack of jackals, and taste so degraded that it befouled everything it touched”—but it was on the way. The morals of the Midwest seemed to evaporate when transplanted to this small area of Southern California.
Inside the squad car, a huge officer grabbed at the seat to avoid the door handle and to keep from falling into the driver’s lap. “Hey, Irving,” he said, “what’s the rush? There ain’t nothing on fire!” The speaker was an enormous man well known as Jumbo Yates. He had played tackle for the Green Bay Packers during his younger years, and now his bulk spilled over in every direction.
The driver, a small, trim officer named Irving Marks, did not even glance at his partner. “It gives me a bellyache,” he cut the words off sharply, “having to baby-sit a bunch of drunks—especially rich drunks!”
Jumbo Yates glanced out at the towering hotel on the right, ahead of them. “Well, if they’re in the Sky Room, they’re rich all right—don’t usually get a squeal for a spot like this.”
Marks brought the patrol car to a screeching halt directly in front of the Lawrence Hotel, blocking off all traffic. He grinned at his partner saying, “Let ’em drive around if they want to get in. Come on, Jumbo.”
As the two officers climbed out of the car, the doorman, a tall, distinguished looking man with a worried look began, “Officer, couldn’t you park your car—”
Jumbo simply brushed him out of the way with one massive arm, saying, “Take it easy, Pal; we’ll be back with John D. Rockefeller under arrest. Don’t let nobody touch that car, you get me?”
Entering the massive lobby of the Lawrence, the two officers made their way to the elevators. Marks jabbed the button with his thumb and, when the door opened, stepped in quickly, snapping his fingers impatiently. “Come on, Jumbo, we ain’t got all day!” As soon as Yates was inside, he punched the button marked Sky Room and the elevator shot rapidly upward.
Jumbo Yates was a rather placid man, dangerous when angry, but ordinarily good natured enough. He also had a streak of cynical realism that caused him to say, “Hey, Irving, let’s be a little bit careful around here. What do you say?”
“What do you mean careful? ” Marks’s dark eyes came to rest on Jumbo and he shook his head, a sour expression on his lips. “These people are just like anybody else!”
“Yeah, just like anybody else—except they’re rich. That means they got pull down at city hall. Just watch it, OK?”
The elevator came to a smooth halt and the door opened, but Marks did not bother to answer his partner. They stepped out into what appeared to be a reception room, and their ears were immediately assaulted by the crescendo from a swing band in the Sky Room. Marks, not even glancing at the guests in tuxedos and evening gowns, forged his way across the room. Jumbo Yates followed, like a huge ship guided by a small tug. He knew that Irving Marks had ambition, that he intended to go straight to the top of the Los Angeles Police Department structure. Since Marks had no influence, the only way he could do that was to make an impressive record. It had led him to do such strange things as charging into a dark alley to face an unseen gunman. Jumbo had halted on the outside that night and had listened as gunshots rattled the night air. He had seen Marks come out dragging the victim, a wanted murderer, by the collar. This was not the kind of thing that Jumbo himself was interested in! Now as he looked around with some apprehension, he found himself impressed by the Sky Room and by the denizens of its space.
Most of the Sky Room was roofed with glass so that the stars outside and the silver moon could be seen overhead. An enormous glass ball covered with tiny facets of silvered mirrors swung slowly and cast yellow, red, and green reflections over the room, giving it an unearthly appearance.
Glancing to one side, Jumbo took in the long table covered with food, noting rather hungrily the turkey, lobsters, fruits, and cheeses. Adjacent to it was another table lined with whiskey, wines, champagnes, and beer, all handed out by white-coated attendants. Jumbo’s glance shifted to the dance floor, where strange things seemed to be happening.
“They didn’t dance like this back when I was dancing!” Jumbo growled to Marks. “What is that stuff?”
Marks had hesitated for only one moment. His hooded, black eyes fell on a group parading in a circle, noting that their hands soon joined and a caller was telling them to go to the middle and “shine.”
“I think that’s called the Big Apple,” he sa