Reinke Faces Life

The good Nuns and Brothers were working hard to instill piety in all their charges.

It was Friday afternoon Stations of the Cross. The entire Grammar School was assembled in Church. Ordered by Class, us Eight Graders were in front, to give good example. It meant we were first in and last out. Girls on the “Bride’s side”; boys on the groom’s. In alphabetical order, we had “processed” into the Church. Each row held thirty children. Exactly measured by the caretaker, there was a nearly invisible piece of scotch tape on the back of the pew where we were to “center” ourselves. The Prefect of Discipline from the back could spot any transgression. There were two empty rows between each class. The Teachers were seated in the spare row behind their class where they slide down the length to admonish the troublemakers.

We had been doing this since Labor Day this year. Of course we had EIGHT years of practice to moving annually closer up to the front. So we had it down pat. Discipline was self-enforced. Misbehavior that was too wide spread or particularly disruptive brought the ultimate punishment — Saturday Mass.

Yes, if the Prefect ordered it, we would all return at 7:30 AM in our school uniform and assemble for 9 AM Mass. The Prefect would always start our wait from 7:45 until the 9 AM “tee time” with “Thank you all for coming” (Like we had a choice!) followed by “Now let us silently reflect on the wages of sin”. So needless to say “the inmates in this particular prison were mostly well behaved”.

But we were kids. However, anyone who inflicted the school with “Saturday devotions” was usually well admonished by peers and representative delegations from other grades. You were gonna get a beating. Maybe several! But we were kids. And particularly in the Eighth Grade and to a lesser extent the Seventh, there was estrogen and testosterone in the air.

Fantasies abounded.

I once opinioned in a school yard chat that there were more wet dreams sitting in those pews than ever at home. After all when you’re effectively confined in a small physical space, bored, and going out of your mind, what else can one do but take solace in dreams.

You really didn’t think anyone was paying attention or praying. Did you?

So Friday afternoon, we were nearing the halfway point of the service. As the priest crossed over to the other side of the Church, it was now expected for us to all turn towards the girls. All you could see was backs of heads. Mostly! But it did have an exciting and calming effect.

We heard a shout from the rear. Then shots. Then the front corner side door opened and some soldiers rushed in firing at the girls. Pretty ragged looking “soldiers”. I turned and headed for the opposite front side door. I admit it; I was a coward. But I had seen a enough “war movies”, John Wayne flicks, and cowboy reels to know that one didn’t hang around to get shot. I guess some followed me. Interesting but I never thought about punishment; just escape. “We”, me in front so I had no idea if there was anyone behind, there was, I just didn’t know it, bolted out the door.

And, with the heavy door we smacked right into some guys coming into Church with guns. Having survived countless melees on the playground, I drop kick the nearest guy’s eggs for a winning field goal. My patented practiced move was particularly effective against school yard bullies who were leading a mob to tease me about being fat. No one ever wanted to be first around me. Make the first one pay and take your beating knowing that the first guy wasn’t going to have sex anytime soon.

As the guy dropped, he stumbled back knocking the two behind him, then I just piled on swinging wildly. Must have connected more than once because my hands hurt. Regaining my feet, we had swept the field. My fear was now congratulating my brain for a well executed plan. Yea, right! My hands, acting on their own, picked up the man’s weapon. I had shot my uncle’s shot gun to salute the morning flag raising up on his farm. So I was an “expert”. My feet turned themselves around and were heading back to rescue the girls. The estrogen was calling. Like in the Duke’s Sargent Stryker in the movie, I held the gun like a pro. A pro who was ready to do a bayonet charge. But without the bayonet. Hey, all parts of my body were acting independently. And it seemed time had stood still. I was back to the door ready to charge. Who me? One of the Brothers, where did he come from, did he follow us out the door?, reached over my shoulder and said “take the safety off”. I knew those Brothers were all ex Marines who had taken the vow after all the killing in WW2.

So, one of my hands opened the door and I went in. I could see the “soldiers” going up the aisle shooting kids. I just aimed at the closest and fired. It was all a blur after that. I’m told that I got fourteen before I was shot. Who knows? It was total chaos. My leg was asking why did it have to take one for the team, it was NOT going to have any sex. I passed out.

Later I was told lots of things.

As the Church massacre was happening, the Soviets and Cubans fired their nukes at the US. We reciprocated. The Civil Defense sirens had gone off. I was down and out, when that Brother dragged my butt and a whole lot more into the church basement fall out shelter. Of the over one thousand children in the Church that day, less than 75 made it to the shelter. I was “lucky”.

After two weeks in the shelter, Brother Kevin led us out. My leg was better, but would never be right again. I’d seen picture of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. This was worse. Brother Kevin thought that the Cubans were shock troops intended to be a fifth column that found out they were expendable. And, decided to “have some fun” with some young girls that would never be known. He told me that I had deprived many of that pleasure. Some in the act.

Marie, my childhood sweetheart, told me that when she saw me running out, one side was praying I’d be safe and another disappointment that I was abandoning her. She saw a different side of me as I came back in shooting. She thought it was a miracle. One of the soldiers had grabbed her breast and his chest just exploded. She scurried to me just as my knee collapsed.

This was all bizarre to me.

Brother Kevin asked me what I was going to do. Looking at Marie, I said I was going to head north to Vermont and my uncle’s farm. It was 6 hours by car and I figured I could hike it a month. He didn’t have any better ideas, but maybe we could get some cars of a bus running. I always wanted to be an engineer and it sounded like a plan.

Brother Kevin, Marie, and I were going to Vermont. Accompanied by a mob of children of assorted sizes and ages. Beside I’d read the Pearl Buck book and seen that movie where the hero, sexy woman, and a passel of Chinese kids walk out of trouble. If they could do it, we could to.

Besides, Marie’s estrogen was particularly attractive. And, motivating.

We’d survive.

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