All through dinner and later as they slowly drank their coffee and Coca-Colas to keep the table from being taken, he thought about his situation and began to appreciate this little group of men, especially young Mr. Brand. Jameson had met him only once before when he was much younger, if that was possible, and was taken by his brilliance and his demeanor. Now, he fully realized the other side of Brand who had taken on the sadist petty officer who was beating up recruits, took him down, then survived an even more brutal attack by the brig sergeant who could have killed him. Brand did not discuss the situation further after he provided the facts and an assessment which perfectly coincided with Dr. Feldman’s records. Brand was truly an amazing fellow.
Brand started to look around the restaurant and asked a young, but not so pretty waitress for the restrooms. She pointed out the door and to the left. Brand asked permission to use the facilities. Jameson, fearing more challenges from the SPs and MPs, asked Sergeant Jones and Corporal Pride to escort him. Flannigan looked up and said, “I could use the head as well so I’ll join this field trip.”
Everyone laughed and the four of them walked out of the restaurant in search of relief. Feldman turned to Jameson and asked, “Is it always going to be like this for Brand? Will he always be herded around by a security team?”
Jameson shook his head saying, “I don’t know for sure. He is so young and naïve so for right now, I think the answer is yes. He is too valuable to the war effort to have him harmed again. The navy needs him, so we will make sure he arrives in Washington in good shape and without any publicity.”
The restroom, or head as the naval service called it, was quite large, which you would expect in a major railway station and reeked of piss and beer, which was also expected. Flannigan told Corporal Pride to stay inside and told the gunny to watch the exit. Each of them, like Flannigan, had a .45-caliber Colt on their belt and took little guff from anyone in the area. Flannigan went to the trough to relieve himself and Brand went in a stall for his business was of a greater nature. After Flannigan had finished, he told the gunny, “I am going over to get myself some smokes at the shop over there,” pointing to twenty-five yards away. “Keep an eye on the ensign, Gunny.”
The gunny always a man of few words, said, “Aye, Aye, Lieutenant,” and walked inside to relieve himself. As the gunny stood at the trough, in came a group of six second lieutenants of the U.S. Army Air Corps, who had finished their advanced flight school and were heading off to their first posting. Each one was highly inebriated and wearing their best slouch hat with the headband removed; most were perched high on the back of their heads. They were quite a sight with most having cigarettes in their mouths and smelling of beer. The gunny, sensing problems zipped up, turned to the stall occupied by the ensign. As he did this, Brand walked out looking for a place to wash his hands.
“Look, fellas,” one of the lieutenants pointed, “a real live squid. Hello squid,” he said to Brand. Brand smiled and said, “Hello, sir,” and walked to the sink.
“Fellas, the squid talks and he seems to be a nice boy. Guess the navy is recruiting from the boy scouts.” The Air Corps was still taking only college men with at least two years of college, and many had been in ROTC making them between twenty and twenty-four.
Brand smiled again and started to wash his hands. One of the Air Corps lieutenants walked over to him and slapped him hard on the back yelling, “What kind of boy scout are you?” The slap hit Brand on one of his cracked ribs, and he grunted in pain, turned pale, and began to stumble. The Air Corps lieutenant turned to his buddies and said, “Look the squid grunts like a fish, and he seems to be getting ill. I wonder what happens if you hit a squid, does it make a loud noise or does it just go bang.”
The Air Corps lieutenant was just getting ready to swing when a hand grabbed his fist, and yanked it back dropping the fly boy to the floor. Lieutenant Flannigan had been walking slowly to the restroom when Corporal Pride waved his fist in a “come on quick” motion that all marines knew. Flannigan entered, saw the gunny about to take out the flyboy, but jumped in front, preventing the gunny from hitting a superior officer, and stopping the drunken hand from hitting the young ensign.
When the fly boy hit the ground, his comrades stepped toward Flannigan, but right behind the marine lieutenant, the gunny was now pointing his .45 Colt directly at the oncoming aerial heroes, stopping them in their tracks.
The corporal, seeing what was going on, acted on his standing orders and ran to the restaurant for reinforcements. He didn’t have to say much more than, “We have a problem. Come quick.” The commander, Sergeant Laird, and Feldman followed the corporal, nearly running over a few civilians on the way. As they entered the restroom, they saw an Air Corps lieutenant holding his hand, Brand holding his chest, Flannigan holding up Brand, and the gunny holding a gun on the other lieutenants.
As he entered the room, Corporal Pride yelled, “Attention, senior officer on deck!” The Air Corps lieutenants did not move at the presence of a navy commander, but when Sergeant Laird walked in behind him with an MP captain they slowly stood to attention.
Feldman took immediate charge of Brand and the commander signaled to get him out of there. But first, the good doctor looked at the hand of the offending Air Corps lieutenant and pronounced, “Ligament sprain. It will be okay in about a week, Lieutenant.” And then he knelt real close to him and whispered to him so only he could hear, “You were lucky, flyboy. The gunny or the lieutenant would have broken both of your arms and probably your legs, so be very careful.”
Feldman then smiled and got up to take charge of Brand. As he started to help Brand move, the MP captain said, “Nobody moves until I find out what is going on in here.”
Commander Jameson turned to the captain, but the captain did not come to attention. “Captain, is the Army totally blind to rank?”
The captain, annoyed but saw the equivalent to a lieutenant colonel standing in front of him, came to attention and saluted. Jameson returned his salute and asked the captain to step outside. He motioned for the doctor to help Brand, which he did with the assistance of Sergeant Laird.
The captain started to protest again, but Jameson cut him off. The Air Corps lieutenants were all standing, and the aggressor held his deeply distressed hand. The gunny had returned his sidearm to its holster and the corporal watched everyone else, including three additional MPs who had joined their captain. Funny, Pride thought, when the shit hits the fan, every damn SP and MP shows up to get in a few hits.
“Captain, my name is Jameson, and I will be happy to let this incident slide for the good of inter-service cooperation.”
“Sir,” the MP captain responded, “no one is permitted to be carrying a sidearm, but my men and a few other men so equipped. This is a violation of the Military District of Chicago, and your men must come with me to make statements. The same goes for the lieutenants in there.”
A navy lieutenant walked up with two shore patrolmen. He asked his counterpart in the military police for a report on what was happening. The captain began his report but again was cut off by Jameson.
“Lieutenant, what is your name?
“Sir, Bennett, Sir, Robert R.”
“My name is Jameson and as I have been talking to the good captain, sorry, your name please?”
The army captain was becoming flustered. “Sir, Powell, John D.”
“Thank you, Captain Powell, for introducing yourself. As I was saying, Mr. Bennett, this situation, if you would like to call it that, is over. There has been no foul except for a hurt hand on one of the drunken Air Corps lieutenants and the recurrence of an injury caused by a slap on the back of the ensign standing with the good doctor.”
“Sir,” the captain interjected. “Firearms are not permitted, and a gun was pulled, two officers have received injuries and several army and navy regulations have been broken. I must insist that you and your men accompany me to the station house to make a full report.”
The commander now had to us
e all the command powers he had learned at the academy and in his business career.
“Gentlemen, who are your senior officers?” The commander looked at each one with a searing stare burning into them, they quickly reported.
“Sir,” the navy lieutenant said, “my commanding officer is Lieutenant Commander Perkins.”
The army captain looked at the commander now bearing down on him saying, “Sir, my commanding officer is Major Stillman.”
“Good, now we are getting someplace. And where are these two gentlemen right now?”
The navy lieutenant responded, “Sir, they are both in their offices on the second floor next to the station manager. They work side by side and should be in the office.”
“Good, let’s go see them. If you would have your men wait here, we will go see them now.”
“Sir, they usually are not supposed to be disturbed except in the case of a major situation.”
“Well, Captain Powell and Lieutenant Bennett, you are both about to see what a true major situation looks like.”
Both officers told their men to keep the area cleared of all other individuals, and no one was to leave the scene.
It took about five minutes to walk through the huge station and climb stairs to the second-floor office of the Shore Patrol and the Military Police Headquarters. When the three officers walked in, there were two non-coms from each service and two very drunk enlisted men sitting in chairs waiting to be charged. When the officers walked in led by the army captain, the sergeant did not get up from his chair but said, “Hello, Captain, how are things on the plat . . .” Then he saw the man in the back with three broad stripes of a navy commander. The navy rating saw it first and jumped up to full attention, followed by the army sergeant. “Sir,” they said in unison. “How can we be of service?”
The army captain tried to say something but was stopped by Commander Jameson, “At ease.”
“At least someone in this command understands military courtesy.” These comments were meant for the army captain, and they hit like a spear in the heart.
“Where are the commanders of this unit, Petty Officer?” looking at the senior ranking non-com.
“Sir, I will get them for you. They are in their office. Shall I announce you, sir?”
“No need.” He walked quickly into the office followed by the navy lieutenant and the army captain. Jameson found the senior officers playing a game of acey-deucy. They looked up to see a very tall navy commander standing in the doorway and jumped out of their chairs in a total disarray. The army major had no tie, no shoes, and smelled of tobacco. The navy lieutenant commander wasn’t in much better shape with no jacket, no shoes, and smelling of beer. The commander in full voice, said, “I take it you two gentlemen are in command of this operation?”
Both officers quickly saluted and the salute was returned with a curt, “At ease, gentlemen. I have your two young deputies with me, and they have a story to tell you that you should hear and then I will tell you what you need to do. Captain, you were first on the scene, so please tell your superiors what is going on.”
The captain gave a quick recap of the events, and as he talked of a pulled firearm, the two senior officers began to get very concerned.
“Thank you, Captain. Why don’t you and the lieutenant step outside for a minute so I can talk to your commanding officers.”
They looked at each other and decided the best thing to do was to comply. As soon as the door closed, the commander asked his question. “Gentlemen, I think it is in the best interest of inter-service cooperation to forget what has occurred. I will not press charges against the Air Corps lieutenant and the other officers with him, but I would recommend that you impress upon them the need to stay sober while wearing the uniform of the armed services.” Jameson looked at the navy lieutenant commander and continued. “Are there any questions gentlemen?”
“Sir,” Major Stillman said as he regained his composure, “I am afraid any firearm not in the control of a police unit or guard unit of the service is a chargeable offense and we,” he looked at his navy counterpart, “cannot overlook this offense. We need to conduct a thorough investigation and then refer this to the Judge Advocate General.”
Jameson expected he would not be able to bull his way through this, so he went for a quick kill. “Major, I understand the regulations. The gunnery sergeant was acting as a guard and is authorized to carry a weapon as are the other marines in this command. Furthermore, I would like to show you my orders which should clarify this position.”
He pulled out the envelope, handing it to Lieutenant Commander Perkins, who pulled the major over. They looked at the commander who glared at them with a great amount of seriousness. “Gentlemen, if you would like, I will have your petty officer call the number on this card, which is the chief of staff to Admiral King, and he can put you in touch with the admiral. Major, if you need additional clarification, I have been authorized to let any army unit contact General Marshall for validation.”
Jameson continued, “Now, I think these orders make it perfectly clear the mission we are on is top secret and requires a high level of security. That is the reason for the armed marines who are authorized to shoot to kill.” He wondered if he did have that level of authority. “So, gentlemen, should we take the recommendation I gave you a few moments ago for the good of both services or should we make a phone call.”
Both the major and the lieutenant commander looked at one another and again, stared at the name on the orders. Almost in unison they responded, “Sir, I think we must talk to those flyboys to make sure that military protocol is followed at all times, especially in areas populated by civilians.” They passed the orders back to the commander and said, “Sir, what else can we do for you and your people.”
The commander, still not smiling said, “You can make sure we get on our train which departs in about thirty minutes. Then make sure you forget about the orders you just saw. You can tell your subordinates anything you want but not about this mission. Do you both understand?”
“Yes sir,” came the reply. The major asked the two junior officers into the office. They came in and stood at attention.
Major Stillwell in a very authoritative voice said, “You will personally ensure that the commander and his party are escorted to the train and make sure that they board the train. You will both stand by to see if the commander needs any additional assistance until the train leaves. You will have your men escort the young Air Corps officers to the holding area until they are sober. Then you will make sure they get on their trains. Are there any questions?”
“No sir,” came the answer and both knew whatever had happened in the office, they were now being ordered to shut up and do as told.
The commander shook the hands of the major and the lieutenant commander and said, “Thank you both for your help and consideration. I think both of these young officers did their job in an exemplary way and should be congratulated on their professionalism.”
With that, he took their salutes and walked out with the two younger officers.
When they had gone, Major Stillwell and Lieutenant Commander Perkins exhaled and looked at each other. The major said, “I still am not too sure what just happened, but I don’t want to know any more than what I saw on those orders.”
The navy officer sat down and said, “I hope I never see orders like that again, nor do I ever want to see that commander.”
Commander Jameson met the others and they were all escorted to the train. As they settled in their cabins, he could see the navy lieutenant and the army captain having one hell of a discussion. It continued as the train pulled out of the station.
As the train picked up speed, the gunny stepped up behind Jameson and said, “Sir, seems that Mr. Brand attracts trouble no matter what. I hope this is just a matter of coincidence, but damn, sir, I am getting worried about him.”
The commander turned to Jones saying, “You are correct, Gunny.It appears Mr. Brand is a magnet for tr
ouble and it is up to us to make sure he stays out of it. Once we get to Washington, we will get him up to Bethesda for another medical exam. The doc thinks the hit on the back may have aggravated his cracked ribs. So, once we get picked up at the station, it’s off to the hospital where we can stash our man.”
The gunny responded, “What’s next after that, sir? Do we have a place for him to stay or is he going into BOQ in Washington?”
“Gunny, that is a whole new ball of wax, and I think we had better approach the admiral on this. I think if he is located with a bunch of other young officers, he might get in more trouble which would not be a good idea.” The commander again looked out the window before commenting, “I may recommend he stay with me at my house in Bethesda, but whatever is decided someone is going to have to ensure his safety. I don’t think our mission here is over, Gunny, but only time will tell.”
Gunnery Sergeant Jones remarked, “Sir, I was hoping to get into battle once more or at least serve on a battleship. Don’t take this wrong, Commander, but being a babysitter for a smart kid is not my idea of being a marine.”
Jameson turned to Jones and replied, “I understand, Gunny, really I do. I don’t have a clue what’s going to happen next with Mr. Brand or for that matter, what else is going to happen anywhere. We all want to serve our country and if possible, most want to see action. You know better than this,” pointing at his top “been there ribbon” denoting the Navy Cross for heroism in action in World War I, “but just like you, our young wannabe hero, Ensign Brand, is being pulled from what he wanted to do. He is now going to play his part to win the war in the best possible manner his education and skills allow. Each of us, including you and me, receive our orders and we hope those orders match the objective in some small or large way of winning this war. That is all we can do and all we can ask for.”
U-Boat Scourge Page 9