They eloped. Left both of their families hanging. Not a single telephone call to warn their parents. The straight A college girl and her just-drafted Army man. They had to do it, before he was shipped out for basic training and the worldwide war on Fascism in the Pacific. His idea. He begged her to do it. Go to Gallatin, Tennessee by bus–where nobody knew the couple–meet the courthouse clerk, exchange vows, say “I do” and both high school sweethearts were husband and wife. License in hand. Good and legal.
Instant regret came over the smartest one of the young newlywed pair:
“What have I done?”
Billy Neal came back home from the war a changed man. His natural proclivity for sudden violence–gotten worse. Fighting was all Nashville Boy knew, when he wasn’t shooting hoops. When he wasn’t shooting Japanese troops, he fought anyone in the West Coast port city of San Francisco. Long ways from the days he’d explode into slugfests with any college boy who dared to dance with his Bettie Page. Slapped her over the slightest provocation. Accused her of adultery, making it with any sailor on shore leave in town when he wasn’t around. Threatened her at knife-point in the kitchen that she’d be a corpse if she ever divorced him. Insecure. And violent.
Instant regret came over the abused one of the young married pair:
“What have I done?”