T
HE little girl sat on the back steps has the most wonderful thing to tell you
and listened to the formless murmur
of the ladies' voices in the dark, cool
house behind her. The wind tossed the
branches of the big tree over the porch, and
the ground at her feet quivered with sun-
light. Although it was midday she felt lone-
some, and she hugged the ragged Teddy bear
closer to her breast and listened to the sound
of her mother talking to the ladies in the
depths of the house.
Her mother's voice rose round and thrilling
above the murmur:
"Oh, I think that's perfectly wonderful!
Nobody but Reverend Grant could think of
a plan so perfectly wonderful!"
The little girl hugged her Teddy bear and
watched the light on the ground where it fell
through the wild leaves of the big linden.
Like the ocean, she thought, tossing and full
of deep green lights. Her heart dreamed far
BY DAVE GRUBB away to oceans.
ILLUSTRATED BT C. C. BEALL "Isobel!"
Her mother's voice was close and urgent
now in the doorway. The little girl turned
and saw her mother's long, white face behind
^jAoitJ'A^dtdt^ the wire screen, the two lenses of her spec-
tacles white with bare reflected light and her
thin lips pressed in her most special after-
noon-tea smile.
"Isobel, come inside, dear. Mrs. Yance
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golden day that shone distantly through the
about!"
Isobel felt the coldness coming inside her
body as it always did when she was about to
be brought into the room for company. She
got up and, as her mother held the screen
door open, she put her thumb in her mouth
and hugged the worn, one-armed Teddy bear
closer to her breast.
Her mother's hand rested against the back
of her head all the way down the long hall
and into the dark parlor as if to make certain
she couldn't turn suddenly and run back
again toward the door, away from them all.
"Oh, she's such a lovely child," a rich,
heavy voice boomed from the window seat.
"Such a lovely child, Mary! I do believe she
favors you!"
Then a dark, huge figure was looming
against the light and bearing down upon Iso-
bel. A dry soft hand was patting her on the
cheek. The little girl felt her mind withdraw
tight and warm inside her most secret self,
hiding from them all and from the room,
but most especially from the soft, dry fingers.
She hugged the Teddy bear so tight that it
seemed that the heartbeat thudding strongly
in the dark, cool room might be his and not
her own.
"Isobel," her mother's voice was saying
from somewhere, "say 'How do you do' to
the ladies, and take your hand out of your
mouth, dearest. Remember what Mother told
you."
Isobel took her thumb from her mouth and
wiped it on her skirt.
"How do you do," she said, pronouncing
each word carefully and staring hard into the
wild arabesque of the rug at her feet.
"Now," said a new voice. "Do you think
Isobel might like to hear about Reverend
Grant's wonderful plan?"
"Yes, Mrs. Yance!" said her mother. "I
know she would! Isobel is the most gener-
ous child in the world. Her father and I have
always seen to that!"
Two hands grasped her shoulders, and two
round eyes came close to her face.
"Reverend Grant has pointed out to us all,"
said the voice, "that we must learn to share
our nice things with those less fortunate—
with other little children whose parents aren't
able to buy them nice things like you have,
Isobel. That's why he's asking each and every
child in our Sunday school to share its toys
with these less fortunate little ones. He wants
every child to seek deep down within its heart
and decide what one toy it loves the best—
and then give that toy to the teacher at Sun-
day school next week!"
I SOBEL stared at the hard little star of light
that winked from the emerald brooch on
Mrs. Yance's dress.
"That's right," said Isobel's mother. "And
then the toys will be distributed"—she fin-
ished the last of her tea with a lift of her
head—"to the most needy."
Needy. The word played in Isobel's head.
Needy. A thin, hungry word with rags flut-
tering at its elbows. She shifted her feet un-
comfortably, feeling sad for the poor little
needy.
"Now," said her mother, folding her fin-
gers neatly in her lap, "go play, dear. Mother
wants to talk to the ladies. We just wanted
you t o be thinking about it, so you can de-
cide which toy you care for the most—the
one you want to give next Sunday."
She paused, and Isobel could feel the si-
lence poking inside Jier like a finger in a
purse.
"You will, won't you, dear?"
"Yes," said Isobel obediently. She clutched
her Teddy bear and walked toward the door.
"Isobel," called her mother. "Haven't you
forgotten something?"
Isobel turned in the doorway and stared
at the dark group, the rims of the teacups
shining palely.
"Pleased to have met you, I'm sure," said
Isobel. Then she curtsied and was gone—
down the dark, cool hall, running toward the
Isobel hugged the Teddy bear so
tight that it seemed the heart-
beat thudding strongly in the
room might be his and not hers
20
door at the end.
She clattered down the steps into the yard
and ran across the soft grass to the tree. She ,
spread her blue skirt delicately and sat ing;
the grass, conscious again of the soft, ca-
ressing light that played all around her, feel-
ing the cool, moist grass blades against her
bare legs.
It had been a choking, panicky sickness
with her at first: the idea of giving the Teddy
bear away. Since deep in the unremember-
ing, formless time when she lay helpless and
kicking, it had been a close and usual part
of her. It would be like giving her arm
away. But now a huge new thing was swell-
ing within her, until she could no longer
endure the thought of keeping it. Needy!
Isobel's heart burst and ran over.
When she stood up, the tree tossed wildly
in a sudden gust of wind, and the oceans
broke around her stubby brown shoes. Her
eyes were gleaming. Like a flock of foolish
sparrows, fragments of laughter splashed
from the dark house. The screen door closed
behind her and she walked into the hallway
feeling the darkness of the house take her
like arms, but it was as though she floated
now.
W HEN she entered the room, the eyes
turned, and the three cups poised and
trembled like eyelids, gleaming faintly in
mid-air.
"Yes?" said the voice of her mother. "Yes,
dear. What is it?"
Isobel walked straight across the room.
The quiet shrieked around her.
"Here," she whispered, placing the treasure
in her mother's lap.
It lay there, staring up fatuously at the dim
glass of the chandelier, almost sadly, its one
arm lifted and the dangling shoebutton eye
gleaming like a tear.
Isobel shut her eyes. Her small feet were
close together and her knees pressed tight.
One of the ladies cleared her throat in the
silence, and Isobel's mother gave a cold, em-
barrassed laugh.
"Really, Isobel," she said, "I don't think >
you understood Mrs. Yance. I don't thinly
you understood her at all. When we give
something—we don't give something we don't
want." She stared redly at the Teddy bear
in her lap. "Just imagine, Isobel, if somebody
gave you an old worn-out toy like this. How
would you feel?"
Isobel put her thumb in her mouth and
sucked hard on it. It seemed important that
she keep her feet very close together.
"Remember the beautiful doll your father
gave you for your birthday?" said her mother.
"It's the nicest, most expensive toy you have.
Now, dear, I want you to think about it again
real hard and then decide that maybe that
would be a nicer toy to give away. Don't
you think it would?"
Isobel nodded, her heart gone to water, her
stomach quivering with shame.
"Shan't we promise Mrs. Yance right now
that you'll bring that to Sunday school next
week instead of—of this?"
Isobel took her thumb out of her mouth.
"Yes," she whispered.
She took the Teddy bear in her hands and
walked slowly out of the room. She felt their
warm, laughing voices hating her as the dark
coolness of the long hall enveloped her again.
The door was far away this time; the beckon-
ing golden tree farther than ever before. Shin-
ing with clean sunlight was the distant yard
with its oceans.
Isobel stood under the tree looking at the
Teddy bear: the ugly empty thing in her
hands; the dull glass shoe button dangling
from its face. Suddenly she ran down the
lawn to the toolhouse and bent at last to peer
breathlessly into the dark mouth of the aban-
doned cistern close to the moldy brick foun-
dation. Quickly she stuffed the cloth body
into the hole, listening until she thought she
could hear it fall softly, deep within the earth.
They were coming out of the back door, and_
the ladies' voices were saying goodby ancP
laughing. Isobel crouched there trembling,
hoping they wouldn't see her. Then the voices
were suddenly stilled.
"Isobel!" her mother's voice was saying
loudly. "Isobel, did you hurt yourself? Why
are you crying? Tell me, dear!"
 T h r e e famous flying officers plan B - 2 9 raids against J a p a n . Left
t o r i g h t , t h e y a r e Brig. G e n . E m m e t t O ' D o n n e l l , J r . , L i e u t . G e n .
Millard F . H a r m o n , n o w d e a d ; Brig. G e n . H a y w o o d S. H a n s e l l , J r .

^^MISTER BEE^^
GOES TO TOWN
BY FRANK D. MORRIS
Left t o right, S / S g t .
T o k y o R o s e , fivst B-29 to fly o - r T o k y o -^^^^^^^^ "^^^^^^'T^S-
Here's the story of the development of the greatest
^X^O-S^^,^^^:^;^^. Walter C, M - - f^" T l i ^ ^ air M'eapon of all time—the B-29; and of how hun-
Hnrlpv W . Clark, u e s ivii' Cnvinc Mmn-^ ^ / " / - „ . 2 n d L t . C h a r l e s
M a r c u s M . Johnson C o l d ^ l » ' " ^ | ^ „ ^ „ , o n , Athens G a . ; 2 n ^ L ^ ^ ^ dreds of tliem daily go about annihilating the power
t^-l^-siF'Srs^ss&K&^-V.^^^^^ of the Japanese Empire. The first of two articles
S t a m b a u g h , S a n Anton ,

BY RADIO FROM HEADQUARTERS, when they did start bomb runs, enemy fight- about such a prospect. But by now they've had flown more than a hundred hours in
ers and ack-ack gun crews, alerted well in seen plenty. And according to Radio Tokyo, those early, sad days of war, bombing the
21st BOMBER COMMAND, G U A M advance, were usually there to deliver pun- the Japs call a B-29, with great respect, "Mis- Jap navy and shipping.
ishing blows. ter Bee." Their first joint inspection didn't take long.

T
ALK with a Navy veteran or a B-29 The return home through the same unpre- Last October two young brigadier generals The solitary B-29 which General Hansell had
man—pilot, navigator or tail gunner dictable weather with damaged ships, failing flew into Saipan from the States. One was just flown in was parked on a hardstand
—about those raids over Japan, and engines and sparse gas supplies was the Haywood S. Hansell, Jr., who for a year had flanking the airfield's one long runway. The
inevitably he'll mention a three-leiter word. granddaddy of all nightmares. been planning with other Air Forces experts sleek silver ship was their current air force.
Iwo. That small bleak island which our Ma- Most of those shudders are gone now. in Washington headquarters a bombing cam- It was true that additional B-29s would be
rines took at great personal cost from the Instead of detouring around Iwo to elude Jap paign against Japan. Early in the planning flown in at the rate of about five a day, but
Japs means almost as much to Superfortress fighter planes and radar detection, they now stage "Possum" Hansell had insisted that the this expansion would probably tax the mea-
crews as the planes they fly. Oddly enough, head right for it. Today Iwo is the guiding Marianas would furnish the best platform ger facilities available to service planes.
they used to consider Iwo a menace and beacon for Superfort navigators, an invalu- for launching the campaign, and now here he Aviation engineers had doubled the length
avoided it as they would a triangular mound able weather station, a base for friendly was on Saipan as head of the Twenty-first of the strip on an old Japanese air base,
of poison. Now these same fliers regard it as escort planes, and an emergency haven for Bomber Command. Aslito Field, a job that had consumed most
a life saver. crippled bombers. By capturing Iwo Jima we The other brigadier general, Emmett of their time and labor. Completion of main-
This attitude readily explains itself. Be- raised the morale of these fliers higher than "Rosy" O'Donnell, was a sort of branch tenance shops and equipment necessary to
A fore we owned Iwo Jima, B-29 men ba^ed in Mount Suribachi. manager of the Twenty-first, commanding the the care and fueling of big bombers would
the Marianas faced the long 3,000-mile round The evolution of the tremendous B-29 Seventy-third Bombardment Wing which he have to wait.
trip to the Japanese homeland with crossed striking force—before Iwo and after—is a had trained with Superforts back in the Possum and Rosy didn't like waiting.
fingers. When they started out on a bomb- story of brains, brawn, smart planning and wheatfields of Kansas. Rosy, a Brooklyn boy, Neither did their flight crewmen and me-
ing mission, they never knew whether they an item respectfully called guts. Ten months had flown the mail with the Army Air Corps chanics and clerks, so they all jumped in to
would reach the target, whether they would ago there wasn't a single Superfort in the back in the early thirties and was commander help the engineers, contriving to sandwich
be forced back or down by weather they'd Marianas. The people of Tokyo hadn't seen of a squadron of Flying Fortresses in the their regular duties in between. Some of the
never dreamed of until it hit them. If and one, either, and they were not worrying Philippines when the Japs attacked there. H e (Continued on page 59j
Collier's for A u g u s t 11, 1945 21

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