W E B Griffin - Corp 08 - In Dangers Path
Page 54
"No, sir," Lieutenant Pickering said, confused.
"The behavioral scientists at the University of California, after extensive research, concluded that the best human material to train to be a pilot are classified intellectually as cretins. Do you know what a cretin is, Mr. Pickering?"
"No, sir."
"A cretin is a high level moron," Admiral Ball said. "Judging by your behavior outside the cockpit, it fits you to a T. So you went to Guadalcanal, God having made you a cretin, and the Marine Corps having seen fit to put you in a cockpit, and you got lucky. God, it is said, takes care of fools and drunks, and you obviously qualify for His special concern on both counts. You managed to shoot down seven of the enemy, and-to be fair about this-the enemy pilots were probably divided, say four and three, into the incompetent and the unlucky.
"And then you came home, Mr. Pickering, entrusted by the Marine Corps to train other Marine Aviators in the techniques of aerial combat. To train is to lead. How is the best way to lead, Mr. Pickering?"
"I'm not sure I understand the Admiral's question, sir."
"The best way to train, Mr. Pickering, the best way to lead, is by example. You might make note of that, since it apparently never occurred to you before."
"Yes, sir."
"And what sort of example did you set for the young Marines entrusted to your hands to lead, Mr. Pickering? You made it perfectly clear to the men entrusted to your care that the way to become a splendid Marine fighter pilot like you is to ignore any regulations you find it inconvenient to obey; to spend as much time as possible racing, over the speed limit, out of uniform, between bars; to endanger the lives of enlisted men by barrel-rolling over the base control tower; to lie through your teeth to flight safety officers and other officers; and finally, to hide your salami in the first married woman you could entice to raise her skirt, without one goddamned thought about the trouble this might cause for her, for her husband, for me, and for the United States Marine Corps, which for reasons I don't pretend to understand, thought you had the character of an officer and a gentleman, and gave you a commission."
Admiral Ball met Lieutenant Pickering's eyes for a full sixty seconds, which seemed to be much longer.
"Would you say, Mr. Pickering, that the foregoing was an accurate assessment of the situation?"
"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Pickering said. "Sir-"
Admiral Ball raised his hand to silence him. "I have several options open to me," Admiral Ball said. "One of which, I am sure, you devious sonofabitch, has already occurred to you."
"Sir?"
"The Marine Corps has been sending some of its misfit aviators-fuckups of your ilk, Mr. Pickering-to a squadron based in Hawaii. There is a shortage of fighter pilots in the Pacific, Mr. Pickering, and the reasoning is that it is better to try to salvage these ne'er-do-wells, these disgraces to the uniform, and utilize their flying skills, rather than send them to the Portsmouth Naval Prison. Wiseass that you are, I am confident that you are thinking, 'Fine, let the old bastard send me to VMF-229. Charley Galloway is the skipper, and he appreciates what a fine fellow and all-around splendid aviator I am." Did that thought occur to you, Mr. Pickering?"
"Sir, if I could be transferred to VMF-229."
"Transferring you to VMF-229 is not one of the options available to me, you miserable sonofabitch. I know Charley Galloway too. I have known him for years, I think what the Marine Corps is doing to him is disgraceful, and I am not going to add to his burden by sending him a miserable excuse for a human being like you to baby-sit." He let that sink in.
"Neither am I going to take you off flight status and send you to Quantico for retraining as an infantry officer. For that matter, as a platoon leader in a mess-kit repair company. You are not fit to command men.
"That leaves me with very few other options. One of them is to offer you the chance to resign for the good of the service, which would make you immediately available for the draft. Unfortunately, you might be drafted back into the Marine Corps as a private, or, God forbid, into the U.S. Navy as an apprentice seaman, and I wouldn't want that on my conscience.
"Similarly, while six months or a year in the Portsmouth Naval Prison-I believe the penalty for unlawful carnal knowledge is five years at hard labor, but I have been told that prisoners are being released early-might give you an opportunity to ruminate on your behavior, I am reluctant to do that, too. The idea of you sitting in a warm cell, eating three hot meals a day while good and decent men are being sent in harm's way, offends my sense of right and wrong.
"Furthermore, if I send you off in irons to Portsmouth, your father would be distressed. And probably General Mclnerney, too-why he likes you is a deep mystery to me. Your father would be ashamed and humiliated. As I said, I like your father."
Admiral Ball let this sink in a moment.
"Going back to my observation that God takes care of fools and drunks like you, and what I said about there being a shortage of pilots, there is one other option available to me."
"Yes, sir?"
"General Mclnerney has a requirement for twin-engine, R4-D or PB Y-5A, aviators. He was not at liberty to divulge the nature of the operation, except to say that it was somewhere in the Pacific and involves an unusual degree of risk to the participants."
"I have some R4-D time, sir."
"So I understand," Admiral Ball said. "But no PB Y-5A time, as I understand it?"
"No, sir."
"My problem in offering you the chance to volunteer for General Mclnerney's operation-glossing over, for the moment, your manifold character weaknesses-is that if I send you, you might be more trouble to the people involved than you would be worth. This mission does not need fuckups, Mr. Pickering, and you have proved yourself to be a world-class fuckup."
"Sir, am I being offered the chance to volunteer for this mission?"
"I'll have to give that some serious thought," Admiral Ball said. "Right now. on a scale of one to ten, your chances that I will are hovering around two. If you're looking for advice, what I would do in your shoes is get a copy of the Regulations for the Governance of the Naval Service and see what you can learn about defending yourself in a court-martial."
"Sir, I'll do anything to keep flying."
"Marine officers don't beg," Admiral Ball said. "God, you are a disgusting specimen of a human being!"
Admiral Ball pushed the lever on his intercom.
"Send the guard detail in here," he ordered. "And if my aide is out there, send him in, too."
The Marine guards marched into the room.
"Take the prisoner to his quarters," Admiral Ball ordered. "Post a guard outside his door. Arrange for his meals to be brought to him from the enlisted mess. See that he's provided with a copy of the Regulations for the Governance of the Naval Service."
"Aye, aye, sir," Technical Sergeant Kranz barked. "Prisoner, one step backward, h-arch." Lieutenant Pickering took one step backward. "About-FACE! Forward, h-arch."
Preceded by one Marine Shore Patrolman and trailed by Technical Sergeant Krantz, Lieutenant Pickering marched out of Admiral Ball's office.
Admiral Ball waited until the door was closed before looking at his aide. "God, Marines!" he said. "They're never anything but trouble. If we didn't need them to fight wars, there would be a bounty on them!"
"Yes, sir," his aide said.
"Call flight scheduling," Admiral Ball ordered. "Lay on a PBY-5A, and the best IP on the base for 0730 tomorrow. Tell him I want Pickering qualified in the PBY5-A as fast as possible-I don't care if they fly ten hours a day-and to give me daily reports on his progress. And then send a TWX to General Mclnerney's office telling him I think, repeat think, I will have a PBY-5A volunteer for him in a week."
"Aye, aye, sir."
Admiral Ball then reached for his telephone and dialed a number. He worked his way through the switchboard of the Planter's Bank & Trust Company of Memphis, and then a secretary, and finally got Braxton V. Lipscomb on the phone.
"Brax, Jesse
. That little problem we had? Romeo and Juliet? It's fixed. No further problem, Brax."
[THREE]
Naval Air Transport Command
U.S. Naval Base
Pearl Harbor, Oahu, Territory of Hawaii
1715 2 April 1943
Major Jake Dillon, USMCR, leaned against the fender of a 1941 Ford station wagon, with the logo of Pacific & Far East Shipping painted on its doors, and watched as the huge four-engine NATC Coronado with Brigadier General Fleming Pickering aboard splashed down at Pearl Harbor. Parked beside the Ford were a General Motors two-and-a-half-ton canvas-bodied truck and the Plymouth staff car assigned to Rear Admiral Daniel J. Wagam, USN, of the CINCPAC staff. A detail of white hats had sought shelter from the brass hats by stationing themselves at the rear of the truck.
Admiral Wagam was in the backseat of his Plymouth, using his briefcase as a desk. His aide, Lieutenant Chambers D. Lewis III, USN, was leaning on the Plymouth's fender.
When the Coronado was safely down, Lewis went to the rear window of the Plymouth and told Admiral Wagam, who nodded, glanced out the window, and returned his attention to his paperwork. He knew it would be a good five minutes before the passengers could be ferried ashore, and five minutes was precious.
Wagam had come to the terminal to see if he could hasten Pickering, whose time was also valuable, and the cargo-which he knew Pickering would insist on seeing through the bureaucratic process-through deembarkation.
As the first of the barges sent to off-load the Coronado's passengers and cargo reached the wharf, a black 1939 Cadillac pulled in beside the Ford and stopped.
Admiral Wagam saw it out of the corner of his eye and recognized it. It was the staff car assigned to Admiral Chester W. Nimitz, CINCPAC. Wagam hurriedly stuffed his papers into his briefcase and got out of the car.
Nimitz was not in his car. Captain Kurt Groscher heaved himself out of the backseat. In Wagam's view, Groscher was the brightest of the intelligence officers on the CINCPAC staff.
When he saw Wagam, he saluted.
"What brings you here, Groscher?" Wagam asked, as he returned the salute.
"The Boss wants to see General Pickering," Groscher said.
"Am I allowed to ask about what?"
"You're allowed to ask, Admiral," Groscher said with a smile.
"Okay, fellas, let's go," Lieutenant Lewis said to the work detail, and led them toward the pier.
Major Jake Dillon walked up to Admiral Wagam and Captain Groscher and saluted.
"Do you know Major Dillon, Captain?" Admiral Wagam asked.
"Only by reputation," Groscher said. "How's the refueling project going?"
Dillon didn't reply.
"Captain Groscher, Major," Admiral Wagam said, "not only knows everything about everything but, more important, is considered to have the Need To Know everything about everything."
Dillon shrugged. "We're just about finished installing some auxiliary fuel tanks in one of the Catalinas," he said. "We'll test that. Them. If that works, we'll put tanks in the other one."
"And if it doesn't?" Groscher asked.
"We'll try something else," Dillon said.
"I don't have to tell you the Boss is personally interested in this project," Groscher said. "Is there anything you need?"
"No, sir," Dillon said.
"There he is," Wagam said, as Brigadier General Pickering and Lieutenant Hart came onto the wharf. The three walked toward them. Salutes were exchanged.
"I trust the General is pleased with the reception he is being given?" Dillon said jokingly.
"Actually, Jake, I'm a little disappointed. When I left Memphis-I stopped in to see Pick-there were troops lined up and a band playing 'The Marines' Hymn.' "
"Really?"
"Mac Mclnerney flew me up there," Pickering said, more to Wagam than Dillon. "The base commander turned out to be an old pal of his."
"Jesse Ball," Wagam said.
"Right. We wetted down Mac's new stars together."
"I'm surprised you could get on an airplane after a night with those two," Wagam said.
"Admiral Nimitz's compliments, General," Captain Groscher said. "The Admiral would be pleased if you could see him at your earliest convenience."
Pickering looked at Wagam.
"I'll handle things here, Fleming," Wagam said. "The Admiral does not like to be kept waiting."
"I don't want that equipment to disappear somewhere," Pickering said.
"Where do you want it? Ewa?"
"That would mean we'd have to bring it back here when we need it," Pickering said. "But on the other hand, it probably wouldn't disappear at Ewa."
"It will be at Ewa, under guard, in an hour or so."
"Let's go, Captain," Pickering said, then called to Lieutenant Hart. "George, go with the equipment to Ewa. Find Lieutenant Colonel Dawkins, and tell him I would regard it as a personal favor if he put this stuff somewhere safe, and under guard. Then I'll see you-and you, too, Jake-at Muku-Muku."
"Aye, aye, sir," Hart said.
Pickering got into the Cadillac.
The car had barely started to move when Captain Groscher reached into the interior pocket of his tunic and handed Pickering a sealed-but not addressed or otherwise marked-envelope.
"I thought it would be better if you were familiar with these before you saw the Admiral," Groscher said. "The one from Marshall came in two days ago; the one from Donovan this morning."
Pickering tore open the envelope and took off two sheets of paper and read them.
T O P S E C R E T
THE JOINT CHIEFS OF STAFF
WASHINGTON
0900 30 MARCH 1943
VIA SPECIAL CHANNEL
CINCPAC HAWAII
EYES ONLY ADMIRAL CHESTER W. NIMITZ
FOLLOWING PERSONAL FROM CHIEF OF STAFF US ARMY TO CINCPAC
DEAR CHESTER:
THE MESSAGES ATTACHED TO THIS ARE FOR YOUR INFORMATION, BUT OF GREAT IMPORTANCE AS WELL TO BRIG GEN PICKERING WHO IS PRESENTLY ENROUTE TO HAWAII. PLEASE SEE THAT HE SEES THEM AS SOON AS POSSIBLE ON HIS ARRIVAL. HIS EXPLAINING THE BACKGROUND TO ALL OF THIS MAKES MORE SENSE TO ME THAN TRYING TO DO SO IN A MESSAGE OF THIS TYPE.
BEST PERSONAL REGARDS GEORGE
END PERSONAL MESSAGE FROM CHIEF OF STAFF US ARMY TO CINCPAC
ATTACHMENT ONE
COPY OF MESSAGE FROM CHIEF OF STAFF USARMY TO COMMANDING GENERAL
US MILITARY MISSION TO CHINA.
T O P S E C R E T
OPERATIONAL IMMEDIATE
THE JOINT CHIEFS OF STAFF
WASHINGTON
0900 30 MARCH 1943
COMMMANDING GENERAL
USMILMISSCHINA CHUNGKING
EYES ONLY LTGEN JOSEPH STILLWELL, USA
1. IMMEDIATELY UPON RECEIPT OF THIS MESSAGE, YOU WILL RELIEVE MAJGEN FREDERICK T. DEMPSEY AND BRIGGEN J.R. NEWLEY OF THEIR DUTIES. THESE OFFICERS ARE TO BE PLACED IN ARREST IN QUARTERS STATUS PENDING FURTHER ACTION BY THE JCS. THEY ARE TO BE DENIED ACCESS TO ANY COMMUNICATIONS FACILITY UNDER YOUR CONTROL, AND YOU WILL PERSONALLY CENSOR ANY OUTGOING PERSONAL MAIL THESE OFFICERS WISH TO DISPATCH.
2. COLONEL (BRIGGEN DESIGNATE)HULIT A. ALBRIGHT, SIGC, USA, IS PRESENTLY ENROUTE BY AIR FROM WASHINGTON DC TO USMMCHI. BRIGGEN(DES) ALBRIGHT IS CARRYING WITH HIM A LETTER FROM ADMIRAL WILLIAM D. LEAHY, CHIEF OF STAFF TO THE PRESIDENT, TO YOU WHICH WILL EXPLAIN THE NECESSITY OF THE ACTION DIRECTED IN PARA 1 ABOVE. IT IS STRONGLY RECOMMENDED THAT YOU NAME BRIGGENCDES) ALBRIGHT AS SIGNAL OFFICER, USMMCHI.
3. COLONEL JOHN J. WATERSON, USA, OF THE OFFICE OF STRATEGIC SERVICES IS PRESENTLY ENROUTE BY AIR FROM BRISBANE AUSTRALIA TO CHUNGKING. COL WATERSON HAS BEEN PROVIDED WITH A COPY OF ADMIRAL LEAHY'S LETTER TO YOU (PARA 2 ABOVE) AND DIRECTED TO PRESENT IT TO YOU IMMEDIATELY ON HIS ARRIVAL. THE INTENTION WAS TO GET ADM LEAHY'S LETTER TO YOU INTO YOUR HANDS AT THE EARLIEST POSSIBLE TIME.
4. BRIGEN FLEMING PICKERING, USMCR, DEPUTY DIRECTOR FOR PACIFIC OPERATIONS, THE OFFJCE OF STRATEGIC SERVICES, IS PRESENTLY EN ROUTE BY AIR TO USMMCHI VIA PEARL
HARBOR. IT IS ANTICIPATED THAT EITHER OR BOTH BRIGEN(DES) ALBRIGHT AND COL WATERSON WILL REACH CHUNGKING BEFORE BRIGGEN PICKERING, BUT BRIG GEN PICKERING HAS BEEN ORDERED TO REPORT TO YOU PERSONALLY ON HIS ARRIVAL IN ORDER TO EXPLAIN THE NECESSITY OF THE ACTIONS DESCRIBED IN PARA 1 AND TO ANSWER ANY QUESTIONS YOU MIGHT HAVE.