In the year 2167 DNA was used to find artifact from WWII under the sands of Normandy - Story was written in less than two hours
“Monsieur Irby, would you like roulements et café?” The chief serveuse of the Chateau des Milandes in Aquitaine said with just a bit of starch in her voice.
“Veuillez oui. Monsieur Jerry Irby will be down shortly and I am sure he will also want to start with rolls and coffee.” Tom said in his best high school French. He had graduated with honors six year earlier in 2161 and gone on to a higher education in DNA Polymerases with specialty in Engineering Thermostable Polymerase Trends in Biotechnology (DNA) at the Heidelberg University.
Just as he was reminiscing about his great-great grand father Louis Irby, Jerry came bouncing into the dining room.
“Tom, good morning.” Jerry was happy and looked to be rested after their flight from Houston, to Paris to Normandy yesterday.
“I ordered breakfast. OK?”
“You bet cousin. I hope you ordered a side of beef and a gallon of coffee.” He was serious.
“Close.” Tom replied with a crooked grin. He was excited as today was to be the day he had studied and prepared for. Today he would put all his education, knowledge and experience to his one driving goal. The goal he had promised his mother on her death bed.
Looking at Jerry’s attire, Tom said, “You may be a bit chilly in shorts and polo today. Don’t you think you will need a sweater or jacket?”
“Hay buddy, its June, I’ll be fine.” Jerry said over his shoulder as he waved toward the waitress.
“OK, but just remember June in Normandy France is different then June in Houston Texas.”
“6 June in France or 6 June in Texas is all the same ole buddy. I’ll be fine.” Jerry said. Tom had done all his graduate and post graduate studied in Germany and he knew June in Europe could be chilly, especially at the waters edge of the English Channel, but he let Tom bask in his Texan ignorance.
A tray of meats and breads was placed on the table with Tom and Jerry along with small pots of the thickest black coffee know to mankind. Jerry’s cup was small and he could just fit his first finger into the handle. Small volcanic-like vapors rose from the miniature molten lava cup as he stirred the black concoction. He stopped stirring for a moment as the waitress passed and the spoon stood erect in the cup.
“Tom look!” Jerry was pointing to the spoon as if were the ninth wonder of the world.
Tom was not interested in Jerry’s antics and continued munching a roll and a few slices of salami as he read and reread his journal.
“What yaw reading cuz?” Jerry said with a mouth full of bread.
Without looking up and with a single hand motion Tom slid a single piece of paper across the table coming to rest under falling crumbs.
The paper was yellowed and stiff. The words were original and more then faded from a 1944 ribbon fed typewriter.
A great invasion force stood off the Normandy coast of France as dawn broke on 6 June 1944: 9 battleships, 23 cruisers, 104 destroyers, and 71 large landing craft of various descriptions as well as troop transports, mine sweepers, and merchantmen—in all, nearly 5,000 ships of every type, the largest armada ever assembled. The naval bombardment that began at 0550 that morning detonated large minefields along the shoreline and destroyed a number of the enemy's defensive positions. To one correspondent, reporting from the deck of the cruiser HMS Hillary, it sounded like ‘the rhythmic beating of a gigantic drum’ all along the coast. In the hours following the bombardment, more than 100,000 fighting men swept ashore to begin one of the epic assaults of history, a ‘mighty endeavor,’ as President Franklin D. Roosevelt described it to the American people, ‘to preserve … our civilization and to set free a suffering humanity.’
Churchill warned, the beaches of France might well be ‘…choked with the bodies of the flower of American and British manhood.’
“Wow. That’s heavy cuz.” Jerry said with a somewhat downcast feeling.
“I know. I know, but remember, it’s the main reason we’re here. I made a promise to mom and I intend to find what she asked of me.” Tom said.
“You know we will probable have more luck in finding the Holy Grail.” Jerry still had a mouth full of bread and cheeses, but he got his point across.
“I know.” Was all Tom could muster before adding, “Don’t forget my expertise?”
It had taken the cousins almost an hour to climb over the rocks to the
all but hidden Normandy beach. His DNA detector was strapped to his back and there wasn’t any thought of others on the beach at this time of morning. It was low tide as Tom and Jerry started at the water line and began sweeping the detector back and forth. On his fifth pass, the detector gave a strong beep…beep then said in its mechanical voice. “STOP! Here. One meter down.”
Tom looked at Jerry and Jerry looked at Tom just as an uncoordinated sea gull came to a chin sliding shirking stop at the end of a three foot sand ferrule just three inches from Tom’s sandals.
The digging took no more then a few minutes even in hard packed sand. There it was. A Saint Christopher medal still in its 222 year resting place and still belonging to a PVT Louis Canute Irby, 101st Airborne Infantry Division that had been blown apart as he took his first step onto French soil and his last step on earth.
A long three minutes passed before Jerry said to Tom, “What now?”
“Back to Mom. It’s what she wanted.”
An awkward bird pulled itself from under its self-inflected sand tunnel, yelled something in gull language and disappeared into the blinding sunrise.
It was going to be a perfect day.
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Reviewed by Flying Fox Ted L Glines
11/26/2007
I think I love the "DNA detector" concept, which is theoretically possible because a strand of DNA will have its own unique radiation signature. Nice touch! And a talking "DNA detector" at that. Cool!
A page-turning novel about a relationship between best friends that is interrupted because of betrayal , deceit, sexual promiscuity and pregnancy happens!
