Chapter Twenty-Two
“This is called a waltz.”
Miss Pompeii vigorously cranked the Victrola, then lowered the tonearm onto the vinyl record.
All the dining tables had been pushed to the side of the mess hall, except for one left in the middle of the floor, where Miss Pompeii had set up the Victrola.
A few scratchy sounds came from the trumpet-like speaker, then the beautiful notes of The Blue Danube Waltz began.
Miss Pompeii stepped to the end of the table as forty cadets scattered to make a wide semi-circle around her.
“Does anyone know how to waltz?” Miss Pompeii glanced from one cadet to another.
The boys either kept perfectly still or simply shook their heads.
Finally, Liz raised her hand.
“Ah, Cadet Keesler,” Miss Pompeii said. “Come on out here, and we’ll demonstrate the waltz
