ADVENTURE ON OCRACOKE ISLAND; CHAPTER 11: BRITISH SAILORS LAID TO REST (ELEVENTH IN 14 PARTS)

For the rest of March and into April and May there were more attacks on ships offshore. The window glass rattled at night, and once, after the dishes fell out of the cupboard again, Delia looked out an upstairs window and saw fire on the horizon. She knew it was a burning ship.

Every night there was a blackout. In every house and building, before anyone turned on the lights or lit candles and lamps, they drew heavy dark fabric over their windows. Everyone on the Outer Banks had learned from the Coast Guard that the island lights silhouetted the passing ships at night, which made them easier for the German submarines to see and to sink. Aunt Hetty grew more anxious. Delia knew that she never rested easily until Alex came by the house, night or day, to let her know he was all right. Sometimes, if it was very late, he simply knocked softly, said hello when Aunt Hetty opened the door, and left. He was always tired.

Delia saw Ben every day at school. He was very busy, between his homework and the Beach Patrol. He spent a good part of the early mornings and afternoons riding Flame and scanning for the terrible debris the explosions sent ashore.

One morning at school, Katie told Delia that the Navy was going to build a base on the island, near the Coast Guard Station.

"Are you sure?" Delia asked. Suddenly the war seemed closer and closer.

"Yes, I'm sure," Katie said sadly. "Because they bought our house! They're going to build it right there."

"They bought your house?" Delia said. "Where will you live?"

It was true. And, although the Marlboroughs were paid for their property, they still had to find somewhere else to live. Katie said her family was going to live with her grandparents near the harbor. Delia felt sorry for her. She knew what it was like to leave your home, even if you were just going down the street.

Delia told Aunt Hetty about Katie's news. "It must be good, don't you think, that the Navy is coming here?" Delia asked. "They'll protect us."

Aunt Hetty frowned. "Yes, but it also means that the danger must be worse. Otherwise they wouldn't come."

Delia's heart beat faster.

One morning in May, she was on her way to school when Ben and Flame raced down Howard Street toward them.

"Terrible news!" Ben said. He was breathless and sweaty. "A British ship was hit last night, and two bodies washed up across the beach this morning!"

"Did you see them?" Delia asked. She felt dizzy and afraid.

Ben grimaced. "Yeh, I it was " He stopped and looked as if he were going to cry. "They're British sailors. They're goin' to bury 'em here."

A few days later, two more bodies were found. There was a simple funeral for the British men, held in a quiet, shady grove on land given by a local family. Many people were there, including Alex and other Coast Guard men in their uniforms. There were a few young men who had not yet gone to war, standing with old men who would not have to. There were women, old and young, and children like Delia, Ben and Katie, whose fathers were gone. They all stood with their families among the silent, somber crowd.

The caskets were simple, made from wood donated by an islander, as even wood, like other things, was becoming scarce because of the war. As they were lowered into the ground, one man sang a hymn, and his voice was lifted by the wind and carried up to the sky.

Afterward, the mourners slowly walked away.

Aunt Hetty touched her eyes. "What a shame," she said. "This awful war!"

Grandpa looked grim, with his lips pressed together. "There's nothin' worse than dyin' at sea," he said.

Delia looked at him and thought of the awful things he had seen at sea. She also thought about her father, who might very well be lost at sea himself.

She thought, too, about all the other people who were worried about someone they loved. Ben. The Haskells. Aunt Hetty, who worried about Alex. And Alex, too, who worried about Aunt Hetty, even when she was safe in her house. He knew she was frightened and one night he had asked Delia to look after her if he never made it back. It had seemed like a strange thing to say to an 11-year-old girl, Delia thought, since she had always thought that she was the one who needed looking after. There were many men at war, he said, who worried about their families back home especially along the Outer Banks, where the war was so close. Delia thought about all the people here, who had fathers and children and sweethearts away at war.

And those who had lost them. And she thought about the British soldiers, now buried so far from home, and the people they had left behind.

Suddenly something happened inside her. It was a sharp pain in her chest. She felt as if, by thinking of all the people who felt the way she did, she had grown another heart. It hurt very much.

She decided that she would try to do something to help.

"Ben," she said quietly, as they trudged through the sand behind the others. "Do you think I could join the patrol?"

Ben looked surprised. "But you're a girl," he said.

"That doesn't matter," Delia replied. "I want to help. My Grandpa says I'm good luck."

Ben shook his head. "They don't allow kids," he said. "They only let me do it because I was already doin' it anyhow."

Delia was quiet.

"It's right scary," Ben added. "There's always a chance you'll find somebody you know."

Delia thought about both of their fathers, out on the sea somewhere.

A chill crept down her back.

NEXT WEEK: Chapter 12: A Call to Action.