Andrew Paddock

OPENING SCENE - Introduces antagonist, teases core wound, and introduces primary conflict. Heaven in Hell's Half Acre, by Andrew Paddock Chapter 1 My Dearest Giorgio, Just a quick note for now, we’re in Los Angeles and about to hop on a train. I think about you every day. I pray you are safe and this letter finds you well. I can’t bear the thought of anything bad happening to you. I know things got pretty heated with your father before you shipped out, but I hope you know how much he and I love you. It’s not that we doubt you or think we can tell you what to do. We just want what’s best for you. Especially after your accident. Your spot in the family business is still here when you get home, no matter what either of you said that night. He’s too proud to say that to you right now, but he feels it. So do I. I know this doesn’t feel like what you wanted after New York but it’s a great life we live. That can be yours too. What you do does not define you. How you live does. Just promise me you will think about it, okay? Time to sign off for now. No matter what you do, we’ll always be here for you and love you. Please write soon, we haven’t heard from you and your sister is worried sick. I love you, Piccolo. -Mamma George Hamilton stared at the sheet of paper for a long moment after reading those last few lines. A few letters now and still no word from his father other than this. The last page had some water spots and the handwriting was sloppy. Tears, he guessed. How long had she been keeping them inside? He felt a pang of sadness and sympathy, but quickly brushed it aside. Don’t get soft now, he thought to himself. Have some pride. No matter what the words on that paper said, the memory of the words that were spoken out loud that night couldn’t be swept aside. Some doors can’t be opened once they are closed. A few men started shouting nearby and he craned his head to see. It appeared to be a card game with a big hand, nothing exciting. Most of the sleeping men on the cots around didn’t even budge. He couldn’t wait to get off this troop ship. All of them were stacked one on top of the other and spread across every inch of space. When the others weren’t bragging about how many Germans they would kill once they got to Europe, they were vomiting from the seasickness. He folded up the pages of the letter and tucked them into his pocket. With one clean movement he jumped down from his bunk and landed on the hard steel floor. All around him were rows of bunks, starting at the ground and rising vertically to the ceiling. He stopped for a moment to gain his balance as the ship went over a light swell outside. After shimmying his way through the bunks, he moved up and out onto the deck. The rush of brisk Atlantic air hit him abruptly. It felt good after the stuffy confines of the bunks. The crisp feeling reminded him of Autumn nights back in New York. George stood aside for a moment as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. A full moon granted decent visibility and cast a comforting glow over the black water below. They refused to turn on any lights above deck for fear of German U-boats. A few sailors moved about on their duties. A few men were puking near the edge. Otherwise, all was quiet and basked in the silver moonlight. George walked down the ship until he found a private spot. He moved over to the edge and pulled the letter out. He gave it one last look in the moonlight. I love you too mamma, he thought. But not yet. He crumbled the pages up, and threw them out to sea. “Bad news from home?” George spun around and saw a sailor standing there. The insignia of an officer on his shoulder. George couldn’t make out the rank in the moonlight. “Something like that, sir.” “I’ve seen plenty of men deal with a Dear John letter. You’re not the only one who lost a girl to this damned war. I’m sorry, son.” “Thanks I guess, but don’t let it eat you up. I won’t. She was alright. Prettier than a pinup girl, but it was never going to last.” George lied. That felt easier than letting this man in on his business. “If that helps make it easier, by all means.” The officer started to walk away. George got defensive. “It doesn’t make anything nothin! It’s just the truth.” He leaned against the side of the ship and looked out at the moonlight reflecting off the ocean. About a half hour passed. The cold air started to push through his coat and he felt a shiver crawl up his spine. He started to walk down the ship to get some life back in his legs. Cold be damned. Anything to keep him from those stuffy bunks. “Mind if I walk with you, pal?” George knew that accent anywhere. It came from the same place he had just been. New York. “Sure.” “George Hamilton, right?” George gave him another close look. He didn’t recognize him, but it was hard to tell with just the moonlight. “Yeah. What’s it to you? Do I know you?” “No, but I’m a fan of your work.” “I’m glad somebody is. You’re an army of one on that front.” “Joey Tessatore.” The man held out his hand. George shook it. “I’m more of a Dodgers fan myself. Brooklyn. But I follow all the New York squads. You’re a helluva pitcher. What are you doing out here? You should be back home with the Giants.” “They cut me on account of my hand getting fucked up. It’s a harsh business.” Joey let a long moment pass. When he spoke again, his tone became serious. “I was wondering what you’d say there. I know exactly what happened to your hand, kid. Good answer.” George instinctively moved away from the side of the ship, taking a few steps sideways. His muscles tensed and he felt his heart rate tick up. His eyes darted around the area for that elusive safety only bystanders can provide. No one else was in sight. Joey laughed. His voice returned to a light hearted tone. “No need to worry, pal. I come in peace. I’m with Lucky’s boys. Paulie Dime’s crew.” That made more sense. He looked around again and still saw no one. “Not even you fellas can avoid the draft, eh?” “We always end up right where we want to be. You know that by now. There’s no higher cause than defending your country, right?” “Looks like the war drive has even penetrated the mafia.” “Ain’t no one say nothing about no mafia.” Joey said in a low, serious tone again as he raised an eyebrow. The message was clear. “Let’s take a walk, yeah? I’ve never had the good fortune to talk with a player from the good ol’ New York Giants before.” “I’m all right. Just came up here to get some air.” George’s hand cramped a bit and he noticed he had been clenching his fists. He loosened them a bit. “Fair enough. But I ain't asking.” Joey started walking slowly. “Let’s cut the shit, shall we? You know as well as I do that if we wanted you dead, you’d be dead. I’ve got a proposition for you instead. I think we can help each other.” “Last time I heard that speech, it didn’t end too well for me. I’m sure you’ve got a good pitch, but I’ll pass.” “Humor me. It might just be the curve ball you’ve been waiting for” Joey reached into his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. He offered one to George, who refused. Joey lit his own under his coat to block the light and took a drag before continuing. “I heard the Giants said you’re done for good. That true?” “More or less. Done with them at least.” “Any other teams call?” “A few.” “You ain’t gotta lie to me, kid. You don’t owe me nothing.” George gritted his teeth. “Just the Seals from the Pacific Coast League, but I don’t plan to go back there.” “That’s a rough draw. It’s a damn shame the way things went down. Sometimes things just get out of hand.” George said nothing. “I’m damn near frozen out here so I’ll just be straight with you. We have an in with the Dodgers. Someone high up there owes us a favor. I made a few calls and we can get you a tryout. As long as that fastball of yours still looks good, the spot is as good as yours.” George perked up. “Yeah?” Almost immediately, he regretted how hopeful that made him feel. “What’s the catch?” “No catch. No strings attached. You’ve been through enough back home. We do need some help on this side of the pond, though. This ship is headed for Naples, Italy. I’ll be assigned there and we have some business for me to attend to, but I need a man in Palermo.” “What’s in Palermo?” “No need to worry about that. Just a couple of errands to run with some of our contacts on the ground there. All real easy. Off the books though. You jump when I say jump, you run when I say run, and when this war is over you’ve got a spot on the Dodgers.” “How do you know I’m headed for Palermo?” “You’re not. But just leave that to me, pal. We’ll make sure you end up there if you agree. Can’t have the next star of the Dodgers on the front lines dying on us, can we?” “And if I don’t agree?” “Well then you’ll head wherever Uncle Sam meant to send you. And I imagine it won’t have a shower, warm bed, and hookers to boot like you’ll get in Palermo.” “Forgive my bluntness here, Joey, but I don’t think they’ll just live and let die back home. They don’t look too kindly on me these days.” “You talking about the Profaci boys? I talked to them, too. You come on with me, we’ll square everything up with them. You won’t have to worry about that. Like I said, we take care of our own. “Tell you what, pal. Think it over. I gotta get inside before my balls freeze off. I’ll find you when we get to Naples. Let me know your answer then. This is a one time offer.” Joey took one final drag of the cigarette and flicked it overboard as he walked away. George’s heart pounded in his chest, and he couldn’t quite feel the cold anymore. His face felt hot. He took one final look at where Joey went to watch him go into the ship before breathing a deep sigh of relief. He took a seat on the deck and leaned his back against a steel wall. How the hell did he wind up here?

For December Conference: 1. Story Statement George Hamilton lost the only life he ever wanted. A deal with the devil gives him a chance to get it back, but first he must find a way to survive four months on the bloody beaches of Anzio in WWII. Can he overcome his past mistakes and make it out? 2. Antagonist The primary antagonistic force is the Anzio beachhead itself and the enemy German soldiers. The Germans create an imposing presence that constantly threatens George’s very existence. A constant foil between him and the thing he wants most - to get off the beachhead and back to his old life. The Germans intend to protect their comrade’s flank at all costs. If they fail their friends will die. They’ll fight tooth and nail and try to obliterate anything in their way. A specific character antagonist exists as well in Joey Tessatore. A smooth talking Italian-American officer from New York City. He is a member of a Mob family in New York, and he offers George a deal: work for the Mafia in Italy and we’ll give you your baseball career back. Joey’s goals: self-preservation and gaining power. He pursues any and every lead that can acquire money and power for the Mafia. His status depends on it. He’s smooth talking, well connected, and possesses a deep and manipulative darkness when pushed. Both forces are essential: the Germans destroy George’s old life, while Joey tries to pull him back into it, providing the necessary tension for George's transformation. 3. Breakout Titles Heaven in Hell’s Half Acre Hell’s Half Acre All’s Fair in Love and Shells 4. Comparables The Alice Network — Kate Quinn Debut novel blending wartime danger with an emotional journey that leads to transformation. Like my novel, it uses a wartime romance to break open a guarded protagonist and push them toward the change. Its commercial success demonstrates strong readership for character-driven WWII stories anchored in personal redemption. Beneath a Scarlet Sky — Mark Sullivan A WWII novel set in Italy which, like my novel, follows a flawed protagonist who finds his purpose in reluctant heroism. This mirrors George’s own journey and balances the antagonistic forces of romance and war. The popularity shows the market appeal of character-driven war narratives set in WWII Italy. 5. Logline A disgraced ballplayer seeking a Mafia-arranged escape from the Anzio beachhead is transformed by the brutal campaign he fights alongside Audie Murphy - the most decorated U.S. soldier in history - and by an unexpected romance with a battlefield nurse, forcing him to choose between running again or standing by the people who now depend on him. 6. Conflict Primary Conflict: The primary conflict and turmoil that George Hamilton faces is the constant tug of war between his desire to selfishly protect his own life and the circumstances of a brutal battle confronting him with the choice to save others. At several points in the battle we see him take two steps forward and one to two steps back. At times he saves his own hide, at others he puts his life on the line for others, sometimes instinctively. A tangible scenario where this occurs is in a chapter when George is asked to be a runner for his unit during an intense engagement. He winds up at the Division HQ and opts to sink into a corner, hoping no one will notice him. Through the radio they hear news of an entire Ranger battalion being wiped out in real time (based on a true story). He feels a pull to go help, but he does not. He opts to help his own chances of returning to baseball and stay in the HQ as long as possible. Secondary Conflict: The main secondary conflict is the interpersonal relationship George has with the love interest: Nurse Hazel “Bunny” Willis. George is terribly wounded and sent to a field hospital where Hazel cares for him. As they get to know each other, she breaks down his walls and sees him as the man he could be, not the man he is. The more she probes, the more George’s barriers break down and the deeper his desire grows to be more. This creates a tangible and deep turmoil between his want - escape to his old life - and his need - becoming a man with a cause greater than himself. One scenario where this manifests itself is after the hospital is bombed. He feels the pull to run to safety and save himself in case more bombs come. But he sees Hazel running around the hospital helping others while wounded herself. He springs into action to help her as much as he can until he eventually passes out from his own wound. 7. Setting This is, in my humble opinion, the greatest strength of Historical Fiction. The setting is the real world at a time and place where the true scope of human transformation, tragedy, and triumph intersect. In my case, this takes place at the Anzio beachhead in Italy. Winter and Spring 1944. Just south of Rome, and more importantly just north of a massive German army at Monte Cassino. If the Allies break through, Rome is captured and the German Army is destroyed. The stakes are massive. The beachhead itself is only about 15 miles long and 7-8 miles deep. The Germans occupy high ground around this territory while the Americans are stuck in flat marshes. There is limited cover, confined to sparsely populated clumps of trees, rocks, and drainage ditches. Constant rain and mud make every movement a slog. Every inch of the beachhead is in view of German artillery. It is hell on earth. Shells fall constantly. You can only move at night as any movement in the daytime will invite certain death. Misery is the only constant. Within this setting - there is a subsetting in which half the novel takes place. The Field Hospital. Most Field Hospitals are in the rear and safe so that soldiers can be cared for in peace. Not on Anzio. The Field Hospital is in constant view of the enemy. It is deliberately bombed several times and subject to occasional shelling from artillery that misses nearby naval ships or ammo depots. Nurses, doctors, and hospital staff are on the frontlines just like the infantry. The nurses nickname it “Hell’s Half Acre”