W E B Griffin - BoW 04 - The Colonels

by The Colonels(Lit)

  "If you've got it," Lowell said, "flaunt it."

  "Go to hell, Craig," General Jiggs said.

  The Follow-Me led them off the runway onto a taxiway, and then toward the troops and the tanks. Two ground handlers in white coveralls ran in front of the aircraft and with snappy signals showed where it was to be stopped. Finally, with their signal wands crossed at their necks, they ordered Lowell to kill the engines.

  Lowell turned in his seat and pushed open the curtain separating the cockpit from the cabin.

  "Davis," he called to Jiggs's aide-de-camp, "give the general a minute to pull up his tie before you open the door."

  Jiggs got out of the copilot's seat, buttoned his tunic, and tugged at the skirt.

  He pushed the curtain aside.

  "And now we'll wait for Major Lowell to pull up his tie, Davis. I wouldn't dream of depriving Major Lowell of the indescribable pleasure of participating in this military panoply."

  Lieutenant Davis went down the steps of the fold-down door first. He saluted the five officers standing on the ground, a major general, a brigadier general, a colonel, and two aides-decamp, and then he stood at attention as General Jiggs climbed off the airplane. Salutes were exchanged.

  "Welcome to Fort Knox, General," Major General David Henderson said.

  "How good of you to meet me, General," Major General Jiggs replied.

  They shook hands.

  Lowell got off the airplane.

  The brigadier general and the colonel shook hands with Jiggs, calling him by name.

  The aides introduced each other.

  Lowell stood by the plane door, hoping he would be ignored.

  "Dave, this is Major Lowell," Jiggs said.

  General Henderson looked at Lowell, his eyes dropping to the armored insignia on Lowell's lapels, and above his breast pocket the pilot's wings, and above them the miniature Expert Combat Infantry Badge with a star signifying the second award.

  "Another good tanker gone wrong, I see, Major," General Henderson said, offering his hand. "But I'm pleased to see that General Jiggs at least has the good sense to have himself flown around by a tanker." "How do you do, sir?" Lowell said politely.

  "Actually, Dave," General Jiggs said, "Major Lowell is the rocket-armed chopper expert."

  "Well, then, Major," General Henderson said, "you're doubly welcome."

  "Thank you, sir," Lowell said: The brigadier general and the colonel offered their hands.

  "Now we'll officially welcome you, General, to Fort Knox," General Henderson said.

  "You didn't have to do this, Dave," Jiggs said. "I never thought I was George Patton."

  "I wouldn't have missed this opportunity for the world," General Henderson said. "Who would ever have thought, so to speak, when I first laid eyes on you, then a skinny, freckle faced callow youth, that one day I would be in a position to render to you the honors of a general officer?"

  "You were a prick in Beast Barracks, Dave," Jiggs said, tempering that remark only slightly with a smile. "You've grown more sophisticated, is all."

  General Henderson smiled warmly and a bit stiffly. He nodded his head.

  The band played ruffles and flourishes. The tank cannon fired the salute prescribed by regulations for a major general. Then the band played the national anthem.

  "Would the general do me the honor of trooping the line?" General Henderson asked.

  Jiggs nodded.

  Trailed by their aides, the general officers marched over to the company of troops. While the troops executed open ranks, they trooped the line. After they had finished and Jiggs had offered the company commander the ritual compliments on his command, the command

  "March Past" was given, the band struck up

  "For in Her Hair She Wore a Yellow Ribbon," a "traditional cavalry air," and the company of troops began to march past.

  They were followed by the six tanks and finally by the band. "That was very impressive, Dave," Jiggs said. "Unnecessary, but first class, and I thank you."

  "My pleasure, Paul," General Henderson said. He looked at his watch.

  "And right on schedule, too. We've time for everything."

  "What's everything?" Jiggs asked. "I came over here to talk to you..."

  "Everything' begins with a quick trip to the museum. Just a short stop. There's something there I think you'll be interested in. And then we're going to have lunch at my quarters. There's someone I want you to meet. This afternoon we can have our talk. I've got the whole afternoon set aside for that. And tonight, I've laid on a dining-in at the main club. I thought it would give you a good opportunity to make your aviation pitch to my officers."

  "Major Lowell would be better at that than me.

  "They'll pay more attention to you," General Henderson said. "You are the only man who's commanded an armored unit larger than a battalion in combat since War II." "Am I?" Jiggs said, embarrassed.

  "Yes, you are, and you know it. That's the point. And they know it."

  He looked at Lowell. "You know that about the general, don't you, Major?" "Oh, yes, sir," Lowell said, innocently. "General Jiggs has been kind enough to relate many of his exploits in Korea."

  Jiggs gave him a withering look.

  "And wouldn't you agree that tankers would rather hear from a tank force commander about aviation than from an aviator?"

  "Absolutely, sir," Lowell said, enjoying himself heartily.

  "That was a bit insulting to Major Lowell, don't you think, Dave?"

  Jiggs snapped. "You'll notice he's wearing a CIB above his wings."

  "It certainly wasn't intended to be insulting," Henderson said. Sensing that Jiggs for some reason was genuinely annoyed, he changed the subject: "We're going to put Major Lowell and your aide up in the V. I.P guest quarters. You'll stay with Beth and me, of course. Are you familiar with Knox, Major? Can you find your way from the guest quarters to the main club tonight?"

  "If it's still across the street, yes, sir," Lowell said.

  "Major, would you like to ride along with General Jiggs and me to the museum? You would probably find it interesting."

  It was, Lowell saw, a waving of the peace branch. Jiggs decided to let the subject drop. He nodded his head just perceptibly.

  "If I wouldn't be in the way, sir," Lowell said.

  A line of olive-drab staff cars rolled up. General Henderson's aide opened both doors of the first one. Jiggs and Henderson got in the back, and Lowell in the front.

  "Take General Jiggs's aide to the V. I.P quarters, show him around, and then bring him to mine," Henderson ordered.

  "Yes, sir," the aide said and saluted, and the car drove off.

  "We have great plans for the museum," General Henderson said. "We're going to call it

  "The Patton Museum," for one thing. And down the road, we're going to get a new building. We've already got his Cadillac and his jeep, and I finally got authority for a full-time curator."

  "It's a good idea," Jiggs said. "I'm glad to hear that."

  "We had a hell of a fight getting tanks away from ordnance," Henderson said. "From their museum, I mean. E.Z. Black helped us. At least we're getting their duplicates, and we've got some they don't have."

  The car moved slowly from Godman Field around the outskirts of the main post. They came to a frame building in the row of tank barns at the foot of the hill on which the barracks of Student Officer Company were located. Lowell could see the mess hall where he had eaten as a student.

  A lieutenant colonel and a master sergeant were standing on the stairs before a tank barn labeled

  "The Armored Museum." When they saw the staff car approaching, they walked to the edge of the street.

  The sergeant-driver of the car jumped out, ran around the rear, and opened the curbside door.

  General Henderson introduced the lieutenant colonel who was the curator and the sergeant who was his assistant, and then said they were "running a little late," and would have to skip "for now" a tour of the museum proper.

&
nbsp; "I think it's more important," General Henderson said, "wouldn't you agree, Colonel, that picking General Jiggs's brain on our new acquisition is more important than showing him inside?"

  "Absolutely, sir."

  They were led down a narrow space between two of the tank barns. Behind the tank barns was what looked like an ordnance junkyard: tracked vehicles, American, German, Russian, English, Japanese; artillery pieces; enormous crates apparently unopened in years, their shipping instructions stenciled on their sides; and four tanks, one of them an M26, to which General Henderson and the curator proudly led them.

  "Look familiar, Paul?" General Henderson asked. "Unless memory fails," Jiggs said, dryly, "that's an M26."

  "Is that all you've got to say?"

  "How about a beat-up M26?" Jiggs asked, innocently.

  "That's one of yours, Paul," General Henderson said, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

  "Mine?"

  "We checked the hull number," the curator said. "We found the records.

  That tank was issued to the 73rd Tank Battalion in Pusan on 29 August 1950."

  "J'll be damned," Jiggs said.

  "The colonel was hoping you could tell us something about it," General Henderson said.

  "I don't quite understand," Jiggs said.

  "We were hoping we could go beyond saying simply that this tank served with the 73rd Tank Battalion," the curator said. "For example, did it have any official kills? Did it participate in the breakout from Pusan? What company was it assigned to? That sort of thing. Did it have a name?"

  Lowell looked hard at the worn-out M26. He had seen a hundred of them.

  He had even seen one with a scar in the turret like this one had, the scar left by the impact of a 2.8 inch rocket, captured and in the hands of the North Koreans But none of them had the name this one had on its turret.

  "Jesus H. Christ!" he said. He experienced a chill.

  Generals Jiggs and Henderson and the curator and the master sergeant looked at him in surprise.

  "It was called

  "Ilse," at first," Lowell said, his voice level.

  "God, Craig," General Jiggs asked. "Are you sure?"

  Major Lowell pointed at the flecking paint on the turret. The letters, "s" and "e" were faintly visible. They had been painted over several times, but flaking paint had uncovered them again.

  "You've found your man, Colonel," Jiggs said. "Major Lowell is familiar with this tank."

  The colonel beamed.

  "Do you know for sure if it was in the breakout?" the curator asked.

  "That would be nice to know."

  Major Lowell nodded.

  "It was in the breakout," he said. "And it went to the Yalu and back."

  "Then it would be reasonable to presume that the kills painted on the turret were earned," the curator said. "There're eight." "I can verify that," Paul Jiggs said.

  "Splendid!" General Henderson said. "When we get back to the main post, I'll get my secretary to take a short statement from you. Just a short one, stating that to your personal knowledge the tank

  "Elsie' made the breakout, went to the Yalu, and had eight kills."

  "use," General Jiggs corrected him. "The name of this tank was

  "Ilse."

  "

  "That sounds German. One of your troops have a German girl friend?"

  "Ilse was German," Lowell said, icily. "She was born Ilse von Greiffenberg. Her father is Generalmajor Graf von Greiffenberg, Chief of Intelligence of the Bundeswehr." "Really?" General Henderson said, pleased. "Put that in your statement, too, Paul." He chuckled. "So no one will think you went to war with the name of some GI's shack job painted on her turret."

  Jiggs saw Lowell's stricken face.

  "This has gone quite far enough," Jiggs snapped. He turned to the curator. "For your sign, Colonel, or however you decide to identify this tank, you may state that it was the tank assigned to the commander of the force which led the breakout from the Pusan perimeter. That force was known as Task Force Lowell."

  "Task Force Lowell," General Henderson said. "Of course. It led the breakout." He looked at Lowell. He thought he had everything explained. "Your brother, Major? Or your father?"

  "Let it go, Paul," Major Lowell said, barely audibly.

  "The tank was named after Major Lowell's wife," Jiggs went on relentlessly. "Two hours before Task Force Lowell made the link-up with elements of the United States X Corps, it was my unpleasant duty to inform Major Lowell that his wife had been killed by a drunken QM major in an auto accident in Germany."

  "I am sure," General Henderson said, upset and contrite, "that Major Lowell understands I had no intention of insulting the memory of the lady. I will be happy to get in touch personally with the officer in question, to tell him how pleased we are to have his tank in our museum." "You're looking at him, Dave," Jiggs said.

  It took General Henderson a moment to collect himself.

  "That's my second unintended insult, Major," he said, finally. "I offer you my most sincere apology. In extenuation, I can only say that you just don't look old enough."

  "He wasn't old enough, or senior enough, or experienced enough," Jiggs said, still angry. "But somehow he did it anyway."

  "God, I wish we had a Plo photographer with us," General Henderson said.

  "I'm glad you don't," General Jiggs snapped. "And I'm sure Major Lowell feels the same way. You said something about lunch Dave?"

  (Five)

  Someone touched his shoulder. Lowell looked up and saw Paul Jiggs, bending down by the open door of the staff car.

  "You all right, Craig?" Jiggs asked.

  "Lost in thoughx," Lowell said. "I'm sorry, sir." "Don't be ridiculous," Jiggs said.

  Lowell got out of the car. They were stopped in front of Quarters No.

  1. General Henderson was standing ten feet from the car, looking uncomfortable.

  "Sorry to keep you waiting, sir," Lowell said.

  General Henderson made a deprecating gesture with his hand.

  Lowell followed them into, the house, an attractive but not luxurious brick home. Lowell thought that the first time he had seen officers' row at Fort Knox, he thought it looked like a set for a prewar Hollywood musical comedy about a college campus. Mid-American U. It was, he thought now, far more elegant than Paul Jiggs's official quarters at Fort Rucker. More elegant and much larger.

  The aides were inside. Lowell was surprised when General Henderson led them past the living room where a tray of hors d'oeuvres was waiting on a table into the kitchen. To the obvious surprise of the white-jacketed GIs in the kitchen, Henderson pulled open one of the kitchen cabinet doors and took from it three glasses. Then he stooped and opened another cabinet and took from it a bottle of scotch.

  "If you have had the privilege of serving under General Jiggs, Major Lowell," he said, "then I'm sure you have learned that there are times when a commander must violate one of his own orders. This command frowns on drinking before 1700. This is the time to violate that regulation. I hope you'll join me.

  He poured whiskey in the glasses and handed one to Jiggs and Lowell.

  Lowell took his.

  Henderson looked as if he could think of nothing to say.

  "Absent comrades," Paul Jiggs said, softly, and tossed down his whiskey straight.

  "Right," General Henderson agreed, and drank his at a dranght. - "Absent companions," Lowell said, and drank his.

  "Make three more of those," General Henderson said to one of the enlisted men, "with ice and water, and bring them into the living room."

  He motioned Jiggs and Lowell ahead of him.

  "You were stationed here, Lowell?" he asked.

  "Yes, sir. I went to Officer's Basic Course, and then I was assigned to the Armor Board for a while."

  "You've been here, before? To Quarters 1, I mean?" General Henderson asked.

  "Just in the garden, sir."

  "A lot of interesting people have lived here," Henderson said. He showed him a p
laque on which the names of former residents were listed.

  It was a long list. The names included Major General G.S. Patton, Jr." who had occupied Quarters No. 1 before the European campaigns of World War II from which he emerged as a four-star general; Major General E.Z. Black, now the four-star Vice Chief of Staff; and Major General I.D. White, who had gone on to command the X Corps (Group) in Korea and was now the four-star Commander in Chief, Pacific.