(Splash had this montage of old pictures of a little airfield in the Southwest Pacific. It is now called “Honiara International. American Marines called it something else a number of years ago.)
Our Attorney had business of her own elsewhere. It is a weekend, and she had “business elsewhere,” which we assumed to be personal in nature, possibly associated with family or the ideas she may have about starting her own. Accordingly, DeMille told the gathering around the Fire Ring with steaming cups of Chock Full O’ Something-or-other to mind themselves and not waste time on stuff the Legal Section would have to sort out before Monday and re-imposition of adult supervision.
That led naturally into a discussion of things we are not supposed to discuss. We would normally share them, even the more controversial ones, with appropriate footnotes, but it would only lead to trouble, like that African immigrant who is trying to purchase a controlling interest in a social media platform most of us quit using because they restricted some kinds of “speech.” Splash had pointed out it wasn’t actual “speech,” but a bunch of digital symbols that represent “speech,” which was the way humans used to communicate until about fifteen minutes ago.
By the time the morning ground rules were sorted out, coffee mugs replenished, and the birds were permitted to resume their joyful squawking, things had returned to a semblance of rationality. Splash insisted we could talk about a time fifty or sixty years ago when it was permitted- even encouraged- to march in the streets against the idea that people- note the ecumenical term- could be selected for public office based on the lack of melanin content of their skin. We knew he was kidding, since the idea of using the color of skin, or the various organs contained within such envelope, as a quality for public service would be preposterous.
DeMille wasn’t going to play. “Although we are permitted to discuss historical events, we are encouraged to not mention the connection between historical events and those going on around us today.”
“You mean like the Chairman’s Grandfather’s grandfather, the one who was born in Ireland, and signed up for the Union Army here to fight for freedom. Not his, of course, since it took crossing an ocean to get away from a famine.”
“And it was about other people held in bondage after crossing the same ocean.”
“Knock it off. It is Easter tomorrow and let’s have a little respect for the Holy Day and the revival of all earth’s creatures in this Spring season.”
“So we can’t talk about Henderson Field?”
“Which one? The Hendersons keep their property in good order and only fly drones over it for recreational purposes that they assure us are not collecting images of the property.”
“No, the one we fought for in a desperate struggle against an implacable foe seeking to dominate all of Asia.”
“So you want to talk about an airstrip in the Solomon Islands? That is almost all the way to Australia!”
“That is exactly why it is in the news again, for exactly the same reason it was news a long time ago, only with the characters sort of inverted the way things seem to be depicted these days.”
“We are not supposed to notice the inversion. It was the Japanese who built the airfield there so they could attack Australia. It is so far away that most people don’t even know where the Solomon Islands are, and so long ago we don’t remember the Japanese trying to conquer China in 1931.”
“We have a hard time remembering anything beyond the Depression we started in 1929 right here.”
Buck had been concentrating on the dark beverage in his cup and sat up. “I think we can trace the market collapse on Black Friday, 1929, to other interconnected events that played out in the prosecution of the Great War, the one supposed to have ended all wars.”
“Didn’t quite work out that way.”
“No, and now it is the Chinese who are helping to finance construction at Honiara International, which is the new name for Henderson Field in the Solomons.”
“I am getting confused.”
“We don’t blame you. In fact, that is part of the point about it all.” The group agreed with a certain amount of confusion about what exactly we were confused about.
DeMille sympathized, since a third cup of coffee would result in a necessary break for personal reasons and to get organized for the rest of a bright Spring day, a trip to the local vendor of holiday spirits and carrots to shred for a special cake in the morning.
Melissa did have a last question, just to get her thinking straight. “Do the Chinese want to fly drones from the airfield like the Henderson’s do?”
DeMille rose to attempt to impose order. “We will not get to that until the production run next week. It is an interesting story about changing global dynamic, choices to be made, and wars that aren’t over. Tomorrow, let’s try talking about peace.”
No one laughed about that one.
Copyright 2022 Vic Socotra
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