Summer Storm
Prelude to Pearl Harbor
by
Book Cover & Preview Text
PROLOGUE Congressman Ronald Banks' home Colonel Michael Brandon Ohara, Chaplain, United States Army (Retired) sat on a worn-out wicker sofa and stared off to the sunset. He could think of no better place in America to spend the coming Labor Day weekend than this small town in southwest Iowa. For some inexplicable reason, this part of America tantalized all of his senses. The smells of its row crops were as powerful as the summer storms that blew over the rolling hills covered with corn. The music of millions of cicadas filling the nights with untold numbers of chirps was as powerful as life itself. And so far as Ohara was concerned, there wasn't a place on the planet that had sunsets more magnificent those of Iowa during the fall of the year. He breathed in deeply, holding the air in his lungs in an attempt to relax. On exhaling, Ohara looked at his watch. His best friend, an old war buddy from Vietnam and now distinguished United States congressman Ronald Banks, was due back any minute from a trip to Red Oak. He and his wife of twenty-three years, a Vietnamese war bride named Xuan Mai Tran Thi, had gone over to one of the local villages so the congressman could deliver a Labor Day speech to a veterans' organization. Colonel Ohara sat nursing his drink, recalling that today was an anniversary of sorts: twenty-five years ago this very day he had left his boyhood home in Castro Valley, California, for communications school at Fort Gordon, Georgia. So much has happened since that day, nearly three decades ago. In the next moments Colonel Ohara's mind wandered back to his first enlistment in the Army. He remembered the day he had volunteered from a cushy European assignment to go to Vietnam, and how he had met Ronald Banks there. It seems like a millennium. The colonel took a long pull from his Wild Turkey-over-the-rocks cocktail, and laughed to himself. He knew that if he were to tell the story of how Congressman Banks had changed from a drug-dealing, prostitute-procuring, black-marketeering scoundrel to Silver Star-winning hero and United States congressman, that his vestry might just suggest he take a sabbatical. And some people still cling to the idea there is no God. Lost in his thoughts, Ohara was startled when he heard the congressman's minivan approaching the nineteenth-century farmhouse. He quickly polished off his drink and walked over to the vehicle. Ohara's wife, whom he'd met while on rest-and-relaxation in Kuala Lumpur in January of 1968, and their sixteen-year-old son, Sean Kennedy Ohara, were with the congressman and Mrs. Banks. "Look who I found," Banks said, pointing in the back of the van to Colonel Ohara's family. "They were just strolling down the middle of the road, so I stopped and gave 'em a ride before somebody hit 'em." In an ever-so-faint English accent, Chloe Elizabeth Mountbatten-Ohara replied, "That is a gross falsification Congressman, and you know it!" As Banks exited the van, he hugged Ohara. Now a teetotaler, Banks immediately smelled liquor on Ohara's breath. Noticing the empty glass on the porch rail, Banks joked, "I see you got here all right--and that you found the liquor cabinet!" "You always did have the best booze, Ron," Ohara said, as his wife and son came alongside. After hugging them and relating something of his flight from Sacramento, Ohara turned his attention back to Banks. "I hope Chloe and Sean haven't been to much of a bother the last few days. At that diocesan conference the bishop simply wouldn't take any alibis." "And why should he, considering that you're on the President's AIDS panel?" Banks shot back, as the two men began walking toward the house. "Some things never change, Ohara. Even in Vietnam you had to be invited to attend the war...." On entering the large farmhouse, Banks broke the news to his friend about who else was coming for the holiday. "Colonel, do you remember John Wolfe?" "How could I forget the S.O.B?" Ohara was almost snarling. "Still holding the grudge, Padre?" "Not really," Ohara replied. "But I know for a fact that, had he not been the CIA's main man in Saigon when we got booted out in April '75, I might have shot him." "Well, it's a good thing you didn't," Banks said, lighting up a hand-made Caballeros cigar. "You know, he must be getting on in years," Ohara surmised. "As a matter of fact, he's seventy-six today." "Is he still as big a curmudgeon as ever?" "Most definitely!" Banks said, as he took a drag from his cigar. "I'll have to admit, he certainly was one tough hombre back in Saigon." "I might well imagine," said Banks. "But think of it from his perspective. There he was -- CIA chief of an operation that was going down the tubes. To make matters worse, there wasn't a darned thing he coul
"I would rather take refuge in God than rely on men;
I would rather take refuge in God than rely on princes."
--Psalms 118: 8-9
On the road to Nodaway, Iowa
1 September 1991, dusk
Formats
Book Details
About the Book
What others are saying about Summer Storm.
"In Summer Storm, Paul Frazee has set himself the daunting task of giving us a panoramic view of the events leading up to WWII Its thrilling action, its surprise twists and turns of the plot are meticulously researched.
Through the motivations of its main characters, we encounter compassionate depictions of various aspects of love, and their corollary, hatred and violence, made plausible by the urgency of stemming the Nazis. In the course of these sweeping events ... we encounter many prominent personalities of the thirties and forties.
More than that, the story is skillfully brought down to the level of individuals who lived and suffered through those defining moments of the 20th Century. Its spine-tingling tales of intrigue, of espionage and counter-espionage make this a must read."
Gerda Weissmann Klein, subject of 1995 ACADEMY AWARD® Winner, Best Documentary, Short, One Survivor Remembers.
"From one who served in the Solomon’s Campaign during WWII, I can say this is the way it was. Summer Storm is a great read – one that will keep the midnight oil burning."
LCDR-USNR (Retired) Ted Robinson, Commanding Officer, PT-118, Squadron Six, Solomon’s Campaign during WW II.
Paul Frazee has woven history, facts and fiction into a gripping story of intrigue and conspiracy during the pre-World War II years in Europe. Having fought in many of the places he describes, I marvel at his ability to describe them so accurately. Like "Waiting for a Rainbow- Coming of Age in Vietnam" Frazee has done his research, making Summer Storm an absorbing tale, and wide open for a continuing saga of the War in future books.
MAJ-USA (Retired) Ernest C. James, Commanding Officer, 238th Combat Engineers. From D-Day to V-J Day, Utah Beach to Berlin.
Visit Paul's Website @ http://paulfrazee.comAbout the Author
Raised in the East Bay Area of San Francisco, the author enlisted in the United States Army on his eighteenth birthday. After graduation from Hayward High School in June of 1966, he took basic training at Fort Ord, California ("A-3-3, Sergeant!"). Following the completion of Communications Specialist School at Fort Gordon, Georgia, he spent nearly a year with the 8th Infantry Division at Bad Kreuznach, Germany, before volunteering for a tour in Vietnam. Assigned to the 1st Signal Brigade in Nha Trang, Vietnam, Frazee served during the Tet Offensive, and he based his first book, "Waiting for a Rainbow – Coming of Age in Vietnam" (ISBN 1-882824-11-3, Graphic Publishers, 1995) on that tour of duty. After graduating from California State University, Hayward, following his military service, Mr. Frazee pursued numerous careers, among them banking, retailing, and teaching high school history and English. Now retired from teaching,Paul is working on his fourth novel, Sweet Tea and Sweet Jesus. He expects this book to be published in mid-2011. Frazee is active in his church, where he is a lay reader, and sings in the choir. Retired from the California Army National Guard, Frazee enjoys traveling with his family to Civil War battlefields, and snorkeling in Mexico near Cancun.