Mission to Britain

by J Eugene Porter

  Brand walked in behind the Marine officer. He also quickly smiled as he saw the doctor with a bottle in his hand making funny faces at Flannigan.

  “So, dear Captain, you have brought your young squire back to do battle with me again? I dare say, Mr. Brand, have you not tired of thrashing me in chess or must we try another game of which I cannot win?”

  “Doc, you are a sight for sore eyes, and I’m glad you’re here to make us somewhat happier in our misery.” He looked back and saw Pride and Gunny entering the room. Both disappeared to find the nearest head and discard their jackets and neckties.

  The doc, with only the officers present, quickly passed a glass to Flannigan and asked, “Any news on Captain Jameson?”

  Flannigan sipped the lighter than usual beverage and commented, “Nice stuff, less smoky flavor, where the hell did you find this and do you have more of it?”

  He held out the glass to the doctor. Feldman was about to put more of the light golden elixir in the glass, but stopped short and with his famous smile asked again, “Where is the good captain of this ship or do you not want more of this?”

  Flannigan gave a blank expression, and Brand came to his rescue. “Seems the captain is coming back tomorrow with members of the admiral’s staff. We’ve had one or two quick conversations, most of which tied to things we cannot discuss. Let’s say, things are getting busy out west. I think he’ll be back here tomorrow evening if they can get the plane flying early enough in the morning. I hear they have a stripped-down B-24 set up like a passenger plane which can fly a whole lot faster than an R4D.”

  “Okay, the good captain of Marines may have another taste of this special brew of the Gods. It is a special whisky I received from one of my patients, a semi-retired member of the Navy Board who seems to have good connections in the liquor industry. It is my duty to help our old men of the sea, so to speak, by reducing their alcohol consumption.”

  He turned to look at Brand and asked another question. “So, what are you and the team going to do next? Can we all take a trip to Britain and find more whisky or are you all stuck in Washington now for the duration?”

  Flannigan took up the challenge because he didn’t want to put Brand in a spot by having to lie to his friend. “We’re waiting for the captain. It appears we’ll be told something soon, but what that is, I have no idea. We’ve been looking at lots of things going on in the Pacific as well as the ongoing Atlantic submarine attacks, but we simply serve our appointed leaders or something to that effect.” He smiled at the doc and took one more sip.

  Brand saw the gunny speaking to the other men out in the main room and decided to find out what was so interesting, allowing Flannigan and Feldman to talk by themselves and probably take a few more hits from the whisky bottle.

  Flannigan watched Brand move into the other room, stopped smiling and spoke quietly to Dr. Feldman.

  “We don’t have any idea yet what they want us to do. The captain told us to be ready to move, but he didn’t say when or where, so we’re in a holding pattern. I think we will head out west and you can figure that one out for yourself. I’m not sure what the timing is from the standpoint of a short trip like the tour of Britain or if it would be something else, but I guess the captain will tell us when he gets here.”

  The doctor looked around to make sure there was no one else within hearing distance. “Look, Robert, if you are heading way out west to a place with palm trees, see if you can get me as your medical officer. I don’t need to hang around with you all the time. They have some busy hospitals in the far west that could use my skills more so than here in Washington. If I see one more retired admiral or worse, his wife, I think I’ll scream. God, what a war I’m fighting!”

  “I’ll see what I can do, but you know it will take someone higher than the captain to get you moved from this billet. They love you here, and with your good looks and manners, you might even marry an admiral’s daughter, or even better, the daughter of a senator.”

  Doc took the bottle, replaced the cork, and looked at his friend saying, “Well with comments like that, the bottle shop is now closed. I have yet to see one good looking admiral’s daughter or anyone under the age of thirty come into the hospital. I’ll be damned if you fly all over the place while I’m stuck here.”

  Flannigan smiled then spoke slowly. “Doc, perhaps we can work something out, but I’m still ignorant of what they have planned for us. They could break us all up and send us off to other duties. They’re just as likely to lock up Brand in a university lab somewhere and put the captain in some office doing studies on things that will never be built.”

  The tired looking captain took another sip and then looking to make sure no one was lingering by the doorway said in a matter of fact way, “As for me, they could send me to Quantico as a training officer for the duration. You know what the medical reports say about my arm and shoulder, so I don’t think I’ll see any more combat. I’ll be lucky to stay in the Corps at all, but then again maybe I’ve learned something useful in babysitting Brand these last few months. Just maybe, someone will see that I’ve got something between my ears besides deviant sexual tendencies like you continue to manifest.”

  The doc laughed out loud thinking about how the strong Marine standing in front of him, the one who wanted nothing more than getting a combat command, could make a joke about his situation. But now it was Feldman’s turn to strike back.

  “Captain Flannigan, you believe that I, a trained surgeon and officer in the United States Naval Medical Service, have deviant sexual tendencies? I should inform you that I need not have to look fondly at goats such as Annapolis plebes did where you matriculated. Nor should you believe all those things they say about good Jewish boys and their circumcised appendages.”

  He turned and heard Flannigan begin to laugh. He turned back with the bottle of Scotch and said, “Here, you big Mick, have some more whisky and tell me about your day.”

  Flannigan sipped on the whisky and recounted an unusual encounter that morning at the request of General Marshall. The general had been in Britain for meetings with the British general staff about things which Flannigan was not privy to but thought it concerned the U.S. buildup in Britain. “Anyway, the request came in for the two of us to go as soon as possible to see Major General Eisenhower in War Planning. When we got there, we were rushed in like we were sent to rescue someone from a fire. Well, it seems we were there to do just that but differently. Our reports on the people and things we saw in Britain were more widely read than we thought.”

  Again, Flannigan took another taste of the scotch and then with the sound of contentment continued his report. “Seems General Eisenhower wanted more details and our ideas. The general was interested in our assessment of the Americans we met and, most importantly, those in charge of the operations. General Marshall was concerned about certain individuals he had met personally or heard about from the Brits, so he asked General Eisenhower to meet with us to get our feel. He told us whatever we said would be in complete confidence and he wanted our gut reaction to certain people.”

  Doc was holding his glass peering into a small amount of liquid at the bottom. He reached over and poured, replenishing his drink then gave Flannigan a raised eyebrow, silently asking the Marine if he wanted more.

  “Yes, Doc, give me some more because if I must keep you entertained, I at least should be slightly looped.”

  Feldman poured then retorted, “I hope I’m not going to have to hold your hand again and say strange chants to get you to sleep tonight. Please continue your story.”

  Flannigan smiled at the doctor and resumed by saying, “Well, the general seems to be a hell of a nice guy, and he is genuine in just about everything. I don’t think he’ll be in this job long. He has a way of getting information out of you, and when he’s done, you want to thank him for doing it. Smart and crafty but likable as hell.” Flannigan took another sip and then started anew.

  “General Eisenhower asked some pointed questions,
not only about logistics and inter-service cooperation but also about the leadership of the people we saw. He said junior officers often have a better feel for this than their seniors and can smell through the crap. He asked about General Chaney and the recently transferred Admiral Ghormley and how they ran their operations. He was also keen to learn more about the workings of the British staff members we met and how they dealt with problems and interservice rivalries. I tell you, Doc, this guy is impressive. When we walked out of there, I don’t think James or I understood what the heck we told him or what he really wanted, but he said we had done him and General Marshall a great service.”

  *****

  On the other side of Washington, a similar conversation was taking place between General Marshall and General Eisenhower. Both men had come to several decisions about the men sent to Britain and how they were feeling about the coordination of the buildup by the United States and Britain. Eisenhower recounted his meeting with Brand and Flannigan and pulled out the report sent to Marshall by King, which included the report from Captain Jameson.

  “General, after reading this report again and meeting with the two young officers, Flannigan and Brand, I’m in agreement about your concerns in Britain. Lieutenant Brand did not mince words, which will get him in big trouble one day unless there are people in very high places to provide cover for him. His feelings were born out by details that only a mind like his could contemplate. I think we should do a full inspection of the operations in Britain and make changes quickly. I would suggest we put together a team with General Smith in charge and let them dig around for a few weeks to see what’s going on.”

  Marshall, never the huge talker but rather a huge thinker looked over at his trusted deputy and said, “Eisenhower, this is a good idea, but you are the one who will go and report back with your recommendations. I also agree with you on that young navy lieutenant. I would love to get him away from King but I would probably have to trade him a year’s worth of steel allocation from tank production to ship production, and I don’t think I can afford it.”

  Eisenhower had thought about recommending himself for the mission, but he knew he was needed in War Plans. The men in his War Plans group were looking at so many operations and expansion plans, that he almost never left the building until midnight and then was back at his desk by 0700. He was about to say something when Marshall spoke, “Take Smith with you and Clark. See what you can find out about our people and if the Brits want to play ball with us.”

  Eisenhower knew the order was set. He would work up details for getting over to Britain soon. He figured he could get a team together and would seek out Field Marshal Dill to ease the path with British leadership and make the trip in mid-May. Hopefully, by then, some of the other big issues would be resolved.

  31

  29 April 1942

  Office of Rear Admiral Willson

  Washington, D.C.

  • First coastal convoy leaves New York for the Delaware River.

  • Japanese land on and seize Parang and Cotabato, Mindanao, Philippines.

  • Admiral King establishes South Pacific Amphibious Force (primarily First Marine Division).

  • New Guinea--Japanese order landing at Port Moresby.

  Admiral Willson had been going over the newest intelligence reports. He was trying to read through the maze of comments, assertions, and intentions to define what the Japs were up to in the Southwest Pacific. The intercept stations in Melbourne and Honolulu were sending daily updates, and there were increasing amounts of radio traffic which signified more merchant shipping activity and probable movements of warships. The Japanese used several different codes. One of them was for their merchant fleet managed by the Imperial Navy which was linked to the JN25b operational codes. These radio calls were becoming numerous in the areas of Rabaul and Truk, indicating the movement of large numbers of ships in convoys heading south. The Allies had the raw information but were still unaware of where the ships were heading and which Japanese warships were involved.

  Enemy movements were now being matched by forces under the command of Rear Admiral Fletcher with the carriers Yorktown and Lexington, along with Rear Admiral Crace of the Royal Navy who commanded a separate cruiser and destroyer force working north from Australia toward New Guinea. These forces were headed for a collision, and the questions kept coming. During their meeting in San Francisco, Admiral King had given Admiral Nimitz the go-ahead for his war plan to counter the Japanese.

  Issued on April 28, it was called “Cincpac Operation Plan No. 23-42” and outlined the strategy for the upcoming Coral Sea operation. King believed in Nimitz and would not second guess his Pacific Fleet commander but would make available all the resources he could muster to help in this operation as well as the continuing support for follow-on operations. Admiral King had discussed numerous support issues on the long plane ride back from the west coast, but one of them bothered him the most.

  Around noon, Admiral Willson’s phone rang and his aide told him Captain Jameson was waiting outside as ordered. He informed the aide to bring the captain in and to keep everyone else out.

  “Jameson, you don’t look too bad after your long plane ride. Did you get much sleep or did you stay awake in a poker game with some poor admiral’s aide?” Willson smiled thinking about the long hours of boredom on loud vibrating cold planes and how this was going to become the norm for everyone on King’s staff.

  “Sir, no one had any money left after waiting at the base for the fog to clear. I think some admirals got there first, so there were no easy pickings available.” Jameson smiled knowing Willson was a very good poker player and knew not to get in a game with him unless you were flush with cash.

  “Sit down, Captain, I want to talk to you about your team and what Admiral King wants you to do.”

  Willson pulled out a file and opened it while the captain sat in a hard-backed chair directly in front of the admiral. “First, tell me how you know Admiral Nimitz. I was unaware that you had served with him.”

  “Sir, I met Admiral Nimitz at the University of California at Berkeley in 1928. I was one of his instructors in gunnery and navigation for the ROTC program he established there in 1926. I had been on a cruiser for two years, and they sent me to a shore base, and for some reason, I was selected to teach at the University. I was there for two years, but Admiral Nimitz left in early 1929 if I recall. He was always pleasant toward the instructors and kept us on our toes by dropping into classes unannounced and asking questions about our topics. He knew them better than we did, but I guess it worked out well.”

  “Admiral Nimitz has an incredible memory for people, especially young officers who impressed him. You must have done a great job for him. Didn’t he write you a recommendation letter for getting into the Ph.D. program at MIT?” Willson glanced at his notes which included a full accounting of Jameson’s life from birth to this very day.

  “Yes sir, he did. I was astounded he would have done that for me since I was leaving the navy to advance my studies.” Jameson paused thinking back to the last days he served in the navy. A great number of people had encouraged him to go for his doctorate even though it meant leaving the navy to do so. Nimitz had been one of them and persuaded him to join the reserves so he could still be a part of the navy and help to the country if it was every warranted.

  Looking back, it was sound advice, and now, here he was doing what he could for the war effort. If Jameson had stayed in the navy, he would probably be in command of a cruiser or a battleship but with his academic background, more likely a shoreside station or research facility, but he was doing his part.

  “Captain, Admiral Nimitz wants you and your team to assist him and his staff over the next few months. This will not be a permanent assignment, but you will report directly to him. However, you will remain in touch with us as well. You cannot serve two masters, but you will serve Admiral Nimitz first and foremost. I cannot tell you much more, but Nimitz wants you and your team as soon as you can
get there. I’m working on getting you priority transportation to Hawaii, and you should be prepared to leave in two days. Is there anything else you need to assist in this mission?”

  Jameson was about to reply in the negative but decided to ask the question. “Admiral, could we take our doctor with us? Lieutenant Feldman has been with us from the start. The doctor would be a great asset to the Naval Hospital in Pearl Harbor.”

  He looked sheepishly as he said the last words knowing the admiral had bigger things on his mind. Jameson was asking the admiral to walk down the hall to see Rear Admiral McIntyre, the head of the Bureau of Medicine and Surgery or as everyone in navy medicine knew, the top doctor of the navy, to secure a transfer of a single junior doctor on nothing more than a request from a reserve captain.

  “Sounds like a good addition to your team. I’ll get it arranged. Your doctor will have a dual reporting relationship to the head of the hospital at Pearl and you.” He wrote down the name and recalled meeting the doctor months ago while checking on Brand’s condition when he first arrived in Washington. Nice young chap and, from what he had heard, the kind of top doctor the navy could always use.

  “Anything else, Captain?”

  “No sir. I will get the team prepared to ship out and be ready for your instructions. Thank you for your continued confidence in the team. We will not let you or Admiral King down.”

  “I know you won’t let Admiral King down because no one in his right mind would do that, now would they?”

  Willson smiled as he watched the captain squirm in front of him. Jameson wasn’t sure if he should laugh or stare at the floor. Jameson was no fool and smiled first then shook his head saying, “I would rather face the Japs with a pencil in my hand than face Admiral King.”

  Both men laughed as they stood. Willson shook Jameson’s hand and said, “Take care of yourself and remember, keep Brand on a tight leash. This is not a time for any heroics. We have lots of men who want to be heroes, but there is only one like Brand.”