War Photographer's Notebook

Chapter 2013 The bet is established
"Hello, Mr. Jepson."

Hearing the call, Claire looked up and responded politely.

"Just call me Morris," the soldier who called out the girl's name first said.

"Is there something you need?" Claire asked casually.

"I've found out about your brother's situation for you," Morris's answer startled Wei Ran, who was eavesdropping.

"Where is he?" Claire immediately asked.

When “he” Maurice heard the question, he hesitated.

"He's dead, isn't he?" Claire asked with a sigh.

"uncertain"

"uncertain?"

“Your brother Samuel may not have died in battle,” Morris said, carefully choosing his words, yet Claire still covered her mouth in shock.

“The information I’ve gathered,” Morris said, “is that he may have been captured.”

"Where did you get this information from?" Claire instinctively grabbed Maurice's hand.

I can't say.

Morris shook his head, then pointed around with his other finger. "But this camp is only so big. You can't get out, and neither can I."

"Can he come back?" Claire asked.

"I do not know"

Morris shook his head. "I don't know if he can come back, or even if he's still alive. I can only say that there's a chance he was captured, or perhaps sent to the mainland. I'm not sure."

The only information I received was that his B-25 bomber had been shot down last May, and his last radio call said he was about to be captured.

"So it's possible he's still alive?" Claire asked, taking a deep breath.

“Perhaps, I mean, it is indeed possible that he is still alive,” Morris replied hesitantly.

“Thank you, thank you, Morris,” Claire said, giving him a warm hug.

"You're welcome."

Morris was far less unrestrained than Wei Ran had imagined, or rather, far less of a scoundrel than Wei Ran's friend named Marshall. He was even somewhat at a loss when he received the hug.

"Is this war going to end soon?"

Claire took a step back and asked, "Will my brother be able to come back after the war ends? If he's still alive?"

“Perhaps he will come back after the war is over!” Maurice promised.

Hearing this, Claire breathed a sigh of relief, as if trying to reassure herself, and then asked, "Would you like some coffee?"

“Thank you,” Maurice scratched the back of his head. “Please give me a large jug.”

"Wait for me!" Claire hadn't finished speaking when she turned and ran into the club.

A short while later, she ran out carrying a Stanley thermos and handed it to Maurice.

“I will continue to help you find out about your brother Samuel,” Maurice promised as he took the water bottle. “Also, the war will be over soon.”

"Ok!"

Claire nodded emphatically in agreement, watching as Maurice left the club's back door with the water bottle.

Seeing Claire resume her work, Wei Ran hesitated for a moment before stepping over. "Is this Claire Evelyn Russell?"

"It's me. Who are you?" Wei Ran's formal address made Claire subconsciously tense up.

“I am Arthur’s friend,” Wei Ran said. “He is Arthur Mill, the supply manager.”

"Pineapple Art? You're from outside?"

Claire asked with delight, "Is he alright? I received the 'Since You Left' that he coordinated!"

"Pineapple Art?"

Wei Ran was momentarily bewildered. He naturally knew that "Art" was Arthur's nickname, but what was with "Pineapple"?

"It seems you haven't been on this island for very long."

Claire's confident tone held a hint of amusement. "Come with me! How is he? Is his stomach problem any better?"

"It seems alright. I haven't been on this island for very long."

As Wei Ran spoke, he followed the other person through the small door of the club, and then into a warehouse that was not very large, containing only a small desk and shelves.

"Please take a seat!"

Claire warmly invited Wei Ran to sit down at the desk, but then she turned and left.

A short while later, she brought over two cups of coffee. Only then did Wei Ran take out the letter Arthur had asked him to deliver to the other party from his pocket. "This is what Arthur asked me to give you. Also, what does 'Pineapple Art' mean?"

"During the last typhoon season, the ferry service between Saipan and Tinian was suspended for nearly two weeks."

Claire proudly stated, "Art ensured the club's snack supply with his stock of two hundred cans of pineapple and fifty pounds of hard candy, and that's how he earned the nickname 'Pineapple Art'."

By the time Claire finished explaining this, she had already opened the letter Arthur had written to her.

Seeing this, Wei Ran didn't say anything more. He poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down to wait patiently.

After he finished his hot coffee, Claire also finished reading the long letter, then untied the hemp rope and looked at the contents of the envelopes one by one.

"So who are you?"

Claire put down the letter and asked, "Arthur must be a trusted friend of yours to ask you to deliver these letters to me, but I've never heard of you before."

“Victor, my name is Victor.”

While pouring himself another cup of coffee, Wei Ran asked, "I don't want to be curious, but who was that person just now?"

“He’s Maurice,” Claire said, pouring herself a cup of coffee. “He’s also from Boston.”

"So you're also from Boston?" Wei Ran asked curiously.

"certainly"

Claire said, "Didn't Art tell you? We're both from Boston."

He and I didn't say any of that.

Wei Ran took a sip of coffee and said, "I've only heard about your brother, Samuel."

"yes."

Claire sighed and said worriedly, “My brother has been missing for a whole year. Some people say he’s dead, others say he’s still alive in a prisoner-of-war camp, so I joined the Red Cross.”

I thought I'd get news of him from the Red Cross, but actually I've been making coffee the whole time.

I might not be able to help you with this.

Wei Ran frankly said, "Arthur told me to tell you that if everything is alright, you should apply to coordinate a movie."

“It’s Sergeant York!” Claire answered almost instinctively. “We agreed to watch it together after the war.”

“That must be Sergeant York,” Wei Ran chimed in. He didn’t understand why this time they were using this pair of battlefield lovers as the starting point; in other words, he couldn’t find a single clue at all.

“How can I thank you?” Claire asked, “I mean, how can I thank you for sending these letters?”

"You're welcome"

Wei Ran waved his hand, seeing that the American sweetheart-like girl had already focused all her attention on the stack of letters in her hand, so he simply didn't linger there. After finishing his coffee, he made an excuse and left.

However, no sooner had he stepped out of the club than he saw Morris return, and even more so, he saw the latter sitting at a small table in the outdoor area, waving at him.

"Me?" Wei Ran pointed to himself and asked as he walked toward the other person.

“That’s right,” Morris nodded, and gestured for Wei Ran to sit down at a table.

"Are you Claire's friend?" Morris asked bluntly.

"No, this is the first time I've met her." Wei Ran shrugged. "Are you trying to warn me to stay away from her?"

Upon hearing this, Morris paused for a moment, then fell silent. "No, no, no, you misunderstand. I'm not one of her suitors. We're just from the same hometown, and I know she has someone she likes, that Pineapple Art."

"It seems I misunderstood you," Wei Ran smiled. "Would you like me to buy you a drink?"

“I certainly wouldn’t mind if I could,” Morris said casually.

Upon hearing this, Wei Ran introduced himself, got up, brought over two glasses of beer, and gave one of them to the other person.

"Are you Mr. Lawrence's assistant?" Morris raised his glass, clinked it with Wei Ran's, and asked after taking a sip.

"You seem to have excellent information network?"

"not at all"

Morris pointed outside the door. "I saw you when you came over. And Colonel Parsons and I live in the barracks not far from yours."

"Looks like we can have a drink together," Wei Ran suggested.

“If this were an interview, we probably wouldn’t refuse,” Morris said casually.

"I bet you didn't stop me from sitting here just to schedule an interview with you, did you?" Wei Ran steered the conversation back on track.

"of course not"

Morris glanced in the direction of the warehouse where Claire was hiding, then lowered his voice and said, "I know Claire's brother; he was my classmate at MIT."

"Oh—" Wei Ran also lowered his voice and gave a response as if he had just realized something.

“He’s dead,” Maurice said in a low voice.

"what?"

"Samuel, he's dead."

Morris said in a low voice, "The B-25 he was in as co-pilot was shot down. In his last communications, he said that they had made a successful emergency landing, but the warship that recruited nuclear agents was not far from them. He certainly didn't survive."

"Why are you saying all this?" Wei Ran asked after a moment of silence.

"I...I'm worried you brought Claire bad news. I hope you can stay home for now."

Before Morris could finish speaking, Mr. Lawrence walked over and immediately noticed Wei Ran and Morris sitting together.

The old man with the flat nose waved to them warmly and then walked over with a glass of beer in his hand.

"What are you talking about? Can I join in?" Mr. Lawrence asked enthusiastically.

"The weather here is awful," Wei Ran remarked casually.

"About a friend of mine, he... he may have been killed in action." Maurice made no attempt to hide anything.

"This war has taken away many people's families and friends," Lawrence sighed.

"yes"

Morris looked around, then stared blankly at the warehouse not far away, and said, “My friend’s mother runs a farm by herself, and his sister studied veterinary medicine in order to run the family farm well.”

Then the war started, my friend Samuel went missing, and his sister came to the front lines to find him, where she probably met her love on this godforsaken little island. You see, war changes many people's lives.

"It sounds like she doesn't know about your relationship with her brother?" Wei Ran asked abruptly.

"I really don't know."

Morris smiled. "My initial understanding of the battlefield came from letters Samuel wrote to me, in which he also mentioned his sister Claire."

At this point, Maurice sighed, "That angelic girl is only 20 years old. I don't know how to tell her that her brother probably won't be coming home alive."

“That’s not your responsibility,” Lawrence said.

"What happens next will be my responsibility."

Mosley lowered his voice considerably, "That thing will take many more lives, even though they are all enemies."

"Are you hesitating? Or are you afraid?" Lawrence keenly noticed Morris's uneasy mood.

"I do not know"

Morris's tone was filled with bewilderment and fear of the unknown. "I have a feeling that we might be opening Pandora's box. Especially... especially since the last key is in the hands of Colonel Parsons and me, and I even have the last key between the two of us."

"So is it time for an interview?" Lawrence asked after a brief silence.

“You’re the reporter, I’m not,” Morris replied casually, snapping out of his reverie.

"In that case, how about we make a bet?" Lawrence uttered a key phrase that jolted Wei Ran awake.

"What are we betting on?" Morris asked with interest.

"I bet that after you open Pandora's box, your attitude will be even more resolute than it is now," Lawrence said with a smile, making the bet.

"Why?" Morris asked after a moment of silence.

"You'll have your own answer in time."

Lawrence's explanation was equally casual: "The answer to the problem is that this can end the war sooner with fewer casualties."

But we are not those ignorant Black people; we all know very well that this is just a struggle for the right to speak in the new order, so I don't have an answer. You will find the answer yourself.

“Alright,” Morris picked up his glass, “what’s the stake?”

"If I'm wrong, how about I give you an exclusive interview?" Lawrence raised his beer and clinked glasses with the other man.

“What if you’re right?” Mosley asked.

“If I’m right, why don’t you give me the last key to open Pandora’s box?” Lawrence said with a smile. “That shouldn’t be difficult for you.”

"It's really not difficult, and it seems like it's a win-win situation for both of us."

"I'm a Wartsman," Lawrence joked self-deprecatingly. "Wartsmen are the best at trading."

"So this is also a transaction?"

"Are you talking about the bet we just made, or that thing?" Lawrence said, giving a playful wink.

“In that case, the bet is settled.” Mori extended his hand to the other party, and he seemed less nervous.

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