There was absolute silence in the room as they waited for him to go on.
“But I have the feeling we’re going to be called. I don’t know where we’ll go, or what we’ll do, but we’re the Marine Corps reserve, and the reserve gets called in time of war. I hope we’re not in a war in Korea, but we may be, and it is clearly our duty to prepare for that.”
He paused.
“Every Marine is a rifleman. My drill instructor taught me that when I went through boot camp at Parris Island. And during the war, I saw how right he was, how important it is to the Corps. So the one thing I know we can do to prepare for being mobilized is to make sure that every Marine in Baker Company is not only a rifleman, but the best rifleman he can be.”
He paused again.
“The training schedule is therefore changed to rifle marksmanship. In the first hour of training tonight, you will draw your piece from the armory, clean it, inspect it, make sure it’s as right as it can be. The following three hours will be devoted to dry firing, et cetera. I have arranged for us to use the St. Louis Police Department firing range. It’s only a hundred yards, but it’ll have to do. There will be a special drill next Saturday. You will report here, draw your weapons, and be taken by truck to the range. Those who will be working at your civilian jobs on Saturday, give your name to your platoon sergeant, and either your platoon leader will, or I will, call your employer and explain the importance of this.”
He looked again at the faces of his men.
Well, I’ve done it. Peterson will shit a brick.
There will be no deviations from the prescribed training schedule without prior permission from battalion.
Special drill sessions will not be held without prior permission from battalion.
Ammunition will not be drawn from sealed armory stocks without prior permission from battalion.
The use of civilian and/or local governmental firing ranges is forbidden unless specifically directed by HQ
USMC.
“Company, ten-hut!”
Baker Company snapped to attention.
“I will see the officers and senior noncoms in my office immediately following the formation,” Captain Hart ordered his executive officer. “Dismiss the company for training.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Lieutenant Barnes said, and saluted.
Captain Hart returned the salute, did an about-face movement, and marched across the varnished wood to his office.
Lieutenant Peterson was standing just inside the office.
“Questions, Lieutenant?”
“The colonel’s going to shit a brick,” Lieutenant Peterson said.
“I suppose he will,” Captain Hart said. “Sometimes you have to do what you think is right even if it gives the entire Marine Corps diarrhea.”
“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Peterson said. “Sir, permission to speak?”
“Granted.”
“You didn’t specify a time for the special drill on Saturday. May I suggest the company report at 0430? That will give us time to get to the range by first light.”
“Make it so, Lieutenant.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
[THREE]
SUITE 401 THE CORONADO BEACH HOTEL SAN DIEGO, CALIFORNIA 1030 10 JULY 1950
Captain Kenneth R. McCoy sprang to his feet and opened the door of the suite.
“Good morning, gentlemen,” he said to the two Marine brigadier generals and their aides-de-camp, both captains. “General Pickering expects you. Will you come in, please?”
"How are you, McCoy?” Brigadier General Clyde W. Dawkins said, extending his hand. “It’s good to see you.”
Captain McCoy had never seen either captain before, but Captain Arthur McGowan, Dawkins’s aide, had heard about the legendary Captain “Killer” McCoy and looked at him curiously.
He doesn’t look, McGowan thought, like either a legend or somebody known as “the Killer.”
“Thank you, sir,” McCoy said. “It’s good to see you, sir.”
Brigadier General Fleming Pickering, USMCR, came into the sitting room from one of the bedrooms that offered a view of the Pacific and had long ago been converted to a bar, holding a mug of coffee in his hand.
“I was going to say, ‘Christ, Dawk, you didn’t have to come here,’ ” he said, “But I think I’d better make that, ‘Good morning, gentlemen.’ ”
Dawkins chuckled.
He nodded at the officer beside him.
“I just now found out you two don’t know each other; I thought you’d met on the ’Canal. General Fleming Pickering, General Edward A. Craig.”
Craig offered his hand to Pickering.
“I think you left the ’Canal—” Craig began.
“Was ordered off,” Pickering interjected.
“—before I got there,” Craig finished. “But I know who you are, General, and I’m glad to finally get to meet you.”
“General, I tried to tell General Dawkins that whenever he could find a few minutes for me, I would be in his office. ”
“Craig and I had to go to the Navy base, coming here was easier all around, and I don’t think I could have given you an uninterrupted five minutes in my office,” Dawkins said. “Things are a little hectic out there.”
“I can imagine.”
“Craig has been named CG of the 1st Provisional Marine Brigade,” Dawkins said. “Which sails for Kobe, Japan, on the twelfth.”
Colonel Edward J. Banning, USMC, and Marine Gunner Ernest W. Zimmerman came into the room.
“I didn’t know you were here, too, Ed,” Dawkins said.
“Good morning, General,” Banning said. “It’s good to see you.”
“Ed Banning I know,” Craig said. “Fourth Marines. Hello, Ed.”
“Good morning, General,” Banning replied, and added, “Mr. Zimmerman and Captain McCoy are old China Marines, too.”
Craig shook Zimmerman’s hand, then glanced at his watch.
“We are pressed for time,” Craig said. “So if there’s some place these fellows can wait. . . ”
He nodded at McCoy, Zimmerman, and the aides-de-camp.
“Why don’t you go in the bar?” Pickering said, nodding at the door to the room. “There’s coffee. McCoy, you stay.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” McCoy said.
Captain McGowan and General Craig’s aide were surprised, and possibly a little annoyed, that they were being excused, and Captain McCoy was not, but they and Zimmerman went into the bar and closed the door.
“I’m the self-invited guest, General,” Craig said. “When Dawkins told me he was coming to see you, I invited myself. ”
“You’re welcome, of course,” Pickering said.
“I don’t think I have to convince you of the value of intelligence, General,” Craig said. “I have practically none about Korea. If the price of getting some is bad manners . . .”
“Ken’s got some pretty detailed knowledge of the North Korean order of battle,” Pickering said, nodding at McCoy. “With the caveat that you don’t ask him where he got it, and if you can give him an hour between now and 1830, when we get on a plane for Tokyo, he could brief you.”
“I’ll find the hour,” Craig said. “Thank you.”
“You’re going to Tokyo, General?” Dawkins asked.
His real question, Pickering understood, is “What are you going to do in Tokyo?” and after a moment, he decided to answer it.
“What you hear in this room stays in this room, Okay?” he said.
“Agreed,” Craig said.
“Yes, sir,” Dawkins said.
“The President is unhappy that we were so badly surprised by what’s happening over there,” Pickering began. “And he’s afraid that he’s not going to get the whole picture from MacArthur. He called an old buddy of his, an Army National Guard major general, Ralph Howe, to active duty, to go over there and see for himself what’s happened, and will happen. Then, because I’m acquainted with MacArthur, he did the same thing with me.”
Craig nodded.
“May I ask what you’re doing at Camp Pendleton?”
“That’s Ed Banning’s idea, and like most of his ideas, a good one. Howe and I will be reporting directly to the President. If we use the normal communication channels, the odds are that our messages would be in the hands of the brass at least half an hour before they were in the President’s hands. If, on the other hand, we communicate with your comm center here, with Banning getting the messages, no one would see them but Banning. We haven’t worked out the details yet, but I’m sure Ed can find a secure channel from here to Washington.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem,” Dawkins said. “If necessary, we can set up a secure radio-teletype link between here and the White House Signal Agency.”
“I have to say this, Dawk,” Pickering said. “I don’t want one of your commo sergeants making copies of our traffic for you.”
“Yes, sir,” Dawkins said.
“McCoy, Zimmerman, and I are going to Japan tonight,” Pickering said. “I’m going to see General MacArthur. McCoy and Zimmerman are going to Korea.”
“Why?” Craig asked McCoy.
“We want to interrogate prisoners, sir,” McCoy said. “And see what else we can find out.”
“What are you going to do about an interpreter?”
“Sir, I speak Korean, and Mr. Zimmerman speaks Chinese. ”
“At least two kinds of Chinese, General,” Ed Banning said. “And Japanese. As does McCoy. McCoy also speaks Russian and—”
“I could really use officers with those skills,” Craig said, and looked at Pickering. “I suppose that’s out of the question? ”
“I’m afraid so,” Pickering said.
“How about access to what they learn?”
“With the caveat that it’s not for—what do the newspaper people say, ‘attribution’?—and doesn’t go any further than you think it really has to, I can see no reason why Ed Banning can’t filter out what he thinks would be useful to you from our traffic, and give it to you and Dawkins.”
“Thank you,” Craig said.
Dawkins looked at his wristwatch.
“Ed, it’s that time. They expect us at the port.”
Craig nodded.
“If you don’t need Captain McCoy right now,” Craig said, “he could ride along with us, and I could pick his brain in the car.”
“Sure,” Pickering said, and then saw the look on Mc-Coy’s face.
“Something I don’t know about, Ken?” he asked.
“Sir, Zimmerman and I were going to go out to Pendleton and scrounge utilities, 782 gear,2and weapons,” McCoy said.
“I think we can fix that,” General Craig said.
He walked to the door of the bar and opened it.
“Charley,” he said to his aide, “I can’t imagine a Marine gunner needing help from a captain scrounging anything, but you never know. Get a car and take Mr. Zimmerman out to Pendleton and help him get whatever he thinks he needs.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” Craig’s aide-de-camp said.
“And you better go with him,” General Dawkins said to Captain McGowan. “We’ll link up somewhere later.”
Zimmerman looked at McCoy.
“Thompson?” he asked.
McCoy thought that over.
“I think I’d rather have a Garand,” he said. “Maybe both? See if you can get a tanker’s shoulder holster for me.”
Zimmerman nodded.
McCoy turned to General Craig.
“Whenever you’re ready, sir,” he said.
[FOUR]
OFFICE OF THE CHIEF OF STAFF HEADQUARTERS, SUPREME COMMANDER, ALLIED POWERS THE DAI ICHI BUILDING TOKYO, JAPAN 0830 14 JULY 1950
Major General Edward M. Almond was in his outer office talking to a tall, intense young lieutenant wearing the insignia of an aide-de-camp when Brigadier General FlemingPickering, trailed by Captain Kenneth R. McCoy and Marine Gunner Ernest W. Zimmerman, walked in. Almond broke off his conversation in midsentence and offered Pickering his hand.
“We heard you were here,” he said, “But Al”—he nodded at the lieutenant—“couldn’t seem to find you.”
It was a question, and Pickering answered it.
“We’re in the Imperial,” he said. “My wife’s in the hotel business, and hotel people take care of each other. They call it ‘comping,’ and I take advantage of it whenever I can.”
“I don’t think Al thought of the Imperial,” Almond said.
“No, sir, that’s the one place I didn’t look,” the aide confirmed.
“Well, I guess I don’t ask if you’re comfortable,” Almond said. “But I can offer you a cup of coffee. General MacArthur expects you at 0900.”
“Thank you,” Pickering said. “General, this is Captain McCoy and Mr. Zimmerman.”
“You look familiar, Captain,” Almond said, as he shook McCoy’s hand.
“Captain McCoy was stationed in Japan,” Pickering answered for him. “With Naval intelligence.”
“I thought he looked familiar,” Almond said. He turned to Zimmerman and smiled. “Is it true, Mr. Zimmerman, that Marine gunners can really chew railroad spikes and spit nails?”
“Carpet tacks, sir,” Zimmerman replied.
“Would you rather we talked alone, General?” Almond asked. He nodded at his aide again. “Or . . .”
“I think it would be helpful if we all talked,” Pickering said.
“Gentlemen, this is Lieutenant Al Haig, my junior aide,” Almond said, “who will round up some coffee and then join us.”
“I suppose the best way to do this is to show you my orders, ” Pickering said, taking two envelopes from his pocket and handing them to Almond.
Almond opened the smaller envelope and read it.
THE WHITE HOUSE WASHINGTON, D. C.
JULY 8, 1950
TO WHOM IT MAY CONCERN:
BRIGADIER GENERAL FLEMING PICKERING, USMCR, IN CONNECTION WITH HIS MISSION FOR ME, WILL TRAVEL TO SUCH PLACES AT SUCH TIMES AS HE FEELS APPROPRIATE, ACCOMPANIED BY SUCH STAFF AS HE DESIRES.
GENERAL PICKERING IS GRANTED HEREWITH A TOP-SECRET/WHITE HOUSE CLEARANCE, AND MAY, AT HIS OPTION, GRANT SUCH CLEARANCE TO HIS STAFF.
U.S. MILITARY AND GOVERNMENTAL AGENCIES ARE DIRECTED TO PROVIDE GENERAL PICKERING AND HIS STAFF WITH WHATEVER SUPPORT THEY MAY REQUIRE.
Harry S. Truman
HARRY S. TRUMAN
PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES
“Now, that’s a blanket order,” Almond said, and indicated Lieutenant Haig with a nod of his head. “May I?”
Pickering nodded, and Almond handed the order to his aide. Then he opened and read the orders in the second envelope.
SECRET
The Central Intelligence Agency Washington, D.C.
Office of the Director
July 6, 1950
Mission Orders:
To: Brigadier General Fleming Pickering, USMCR Assistant Director of the CIA for Asia
By Direction of the President, and in compliance with Mission Memorandum 23- 1950, Classified TOP SECRET/CIA/Director, with which you have been made familiar, you and the following members of your staff, all of whom have been granted TOP SECRET/CIA/Director security clearances, will travel to Tokyo, Japan, and such other places as you/they may feel necessary. Travel may be accomplished by U.S. Government air, sea, rail, or road transportation, for which Priority AAAAA is assigned, or by any other means you/they determine are necessary.
BANNING, Edward F., Colonel, USMC MCCOY, Kenneth R., Captain, USMC ZIMMERMANN, Ernest W., Master Gunner, USMC
Roscoe M. Hillenkoetter
ROSCOE M. HILLENKOETTER
Rear Admiral, USN
Director
SECRET
“Two questions,” Almond said, as—after getting an approving nod from Pickering—he handed the second orders to Haig. “Colonel Banning? And why two sets of orders? The Presidential order would seem to cover everything.”
“Colonel Banning, to answer that first, G
eneral, is at Camp Pendleton in California, setting up a communications link between there and the White House. I’m going to need such a link from here to Camp Pendleton, which is one of the reasons I asked to see you.”
“Al, see that the General gets whatever he needs,” Almond ordered.
“Yes, sir,” Haig said.
“And so far as the orders are concerned,” Pickering went on, “Captain McCoy thinks it would be a good idea to get a third set, issued by SCAP.”
“Saying what, Captain?” Almond asked McCoy.
“Saying that Mr. Zimmerman and I are on a liaison mission—or something like that—from SCAP, sir,” McCoy said. “Preferably signed by you, sir.”
“Reason?” Almond asked.
“White House and CIA orders, sir, and orders signed by General MacArthur are likely to call more attention to us than we want.”
“Point taken,” Almond said. “When we finish here, Al, get with Captain McCoy and give him what he needs.”
“Yes, sir,” Haig said.
Almond looked at McCoy.
“I presume you’re going to Korea?”
“Yes, sir.”
“When?”
“As soon as we have the orders from here, sir.”
“You’re going to need some field equipment,” Almond said. “And weapons. Things are pretty primitive over there. Lieutenant Haig can help you there.”
“We have what we’ll need, sir,” McCoy said. “But thank you.”
“I wish I had an interpreter to send with you. I don’t.”
“McCoy speaks Korean, General,” Pickering said. “Reads and writes it, too.”
“If I had known that, Captain, when you were here, I would have done my best to steal you from the Naval element. I’m surprised General Willoughby didn’t,” Almond said. Then he paused and looked at Pickering. “General Willoughby would of course be interested in whatever intelligence Captain McCoy turns up. It’s an admission of failure on our part, obviously, but the truth is this Korean business caught us completely by surprise.”
“I’m sure something can be worked out, General,” Pickering said. “But I’m sure you’ll understand that McCoy and Zimmerman have to do their job independently.”
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