W E B Griffin - BoW 03 - The Majors
Page 26
When they got back in the office, and the sales manager was getting paper and pencil out to rough out some figures for a fifty-hour use of a Piper, the major asked if he could use his telephone for a collect call.
"Sure," the sales manager said.
The major called a New York City number, collect to Porter
Craig from Major Craig W. Lowell.
"Porter," he said, when his party came on the line, "I'm in
Kansas City. Who do we do business with out here?"
Then he covered the mouthpiece with his hand and spoke to the sales manager: "You did say the First National Bank of
Kansas City was your bank, didn't you?"
"Yeah," the sales manager said. "That's what I said."
"I'm about to write a rather substantial check, Porter," the
220
W. E. B. Gnff in major said. "Specifically, one for $120,000. And I don't want to wait until it clears. Would you call the First National Bank here and do whatever has to be done?"
The sales manager looked at him in confusion and disbelief.
"I'm buying an airplane, Porter, is what I'm doing," the major said. "Have the bank call a Mr. Sewell at Twin City
Aviation and tell him my check is good, will you?"
Then he asked the sales manager for a blank check and filled it out. It was for $120,000. Where the name of the bank was supposed to be, he had written Craig, Powell, Kenyon and
Dawes, N.Y.C.
"What's this here, instead of the bank's name?" the sales manager asked.
"That's a bank. Or rather a firm of investment bankers,
Major Lowell explained.
"Never heard of it," the sales manager said.
"Few people have," Major Lowell said. "Listen, I think it will take maybe thirty minutes to arrange for that check. I'm on my way to New Orleans. I'll need charts, and I'd like to read the Dash-One on that for a few minutes Would it be all right if I took the keys and went out to It"
The major was wrong about it taking thirty minutes to arrange for his check to be cleared. Five minutes later, the executive vice president of the First National Bank of Kansas
City telephoned the sales manager of Twin City Aviation and told him the bank had received a telephone call from the chairman of the board of Craig, Powell, Kenyon and Dawes, the
New York investment bankers, and that he could accept any check drawn against them by Major Craig W. Lowell, up to a quarter of a million dollars.
(Four)
Fort Benning, Georgia is January 1957
Lieutenant Colonel J. Peter Hawkins, Deputy Chief of the
Platoon Tactics Branch, Tactics Division, of the U.S. Army
Infantry School, had six months previously submitted (under the provisions of AR 615-301, and Department of Anny Perinoanel
Pamphlet 615Ž 15) an application for consideration for assignment as a military attache.
Shortly afterward, he became aware that he was the subject of a new complete background investigation, conducted among the military by personnel of the U.S. Army Counterintelligence
Corps and in civilian areas by agents of the Federal Bureau of levestigation. It. Colonel Hawkins already had undergone a cwnplete background investigation and held a Top Secret security clearance. That wasn't enough, apparently.
Two months before, he had been placed on orders to the
2nd Infantry Division in Korea. Although he presumed that to mean he had not been selected for duty as a military attachd, he had not been so officially notified. He had prepared to move to Korea, which meant that he had had to find off-post housing for his wife and children. Dependents were not authorized in
Korea, and government quarters were authorized only for personnel assigned to a post.
He had purchased a four-bedroom, two-bath ranch house in the Riverview subdivision of Columbus, Georgia, taking over the mortgage from an ordnance major who had been reassigned to the Redstone, Alabama, Ordnance Depot.
And then his orders.to the 2nd Infantry Division were cancelled.
He received a telephone call from the Office of the
Assistant Chief of Staff, Personnel, in the Pentagon, saying that he might expect other orders in the near future. The caller could give It. Colonel Hawkins no indication of what those orders might be.
Four days previously, there had been a TWX:
HQ DEPT OF THE ARMY
CO Fort BENNING & THE INF CENTER, GA
rr IS ANTICIPATED THAT LT COL I. PETER HAWKINS 0386567 INE
THE iNF SCHOOL WILL BE ORDERED TO AN OVERSEAS POST WITH
FOURTEEN (14) DAYS. DEPENDENTS WILL REPEAT WILL BE AUTH
TO ACCOMP OFF. TVL BY MIL AND/OR CIV AIR IS ANTICIPATED.
OFF WILL INSURE DEPENDENTS POSSESS PROPER PASSPORTS AND
HAVE COMPLETED IMMUNIZATION SERIES. THIS IS ALL THE INFORMATION
PRESENTLY AVAILABLE AND INQUIRIES ARE NOT DESIRED AND WILL NOT BE ENTERTAINED.
FOR THE ASST C/S PERSONNEL:
STEPHEN MASON
LT COL. AOC
And last night there had been a telephone call from the aidede-camp to the post commander. He was to be at the army airfield at Fort Benning at 1000 hours. He was to be in a Class
"A" uniform. He was to take with him enough linen and extra uniforms to spend three days away from Fort Beaning. Transportation from Benaing to where he was going would be by military air. The aide-dc-camp had no further information.
When It. Colonel Hawkins went to Base Operations at 0915 the next morning and identified himself, they had no information to give him. They knew nothing.
At 0955 hours, It. Colonel Hawkins watched as a very unusual airplane taxied up to Base Operations. It was an Aero
Commander. Colonel Hawkins had not known that the army had acquired any Acm Commanders, which were high-priced civilian business aircraft, the kind used by corporate big shots too impatient to take airliners. From the markings there was no question, however, that this was an army aircraft, for it was painted in army colors. But Colonel Hawkins had never seen any other army aircraft painted like this one. The paint was glossy, not flat, and most of it was gleaming white, not olive drab.
While it had the standard star-and-bars identification on the fuselage, the insignia looked much smaller than normal.
The only place it said US ARMY was on the vertical stabilizer, high up, in letters no more than four inches tall.
A VIP aircraft, obviously. But there was no general officer's starred plaque mounted anywhere on the fuselage.
The door in the fuselage behind the high wing opened and an officer got out. He was wearing a Class "A" uniform, not a flight suit. There were wings on the tunic, so it was logical to presume he was the pilot, or copilot. In an airplane like that, obviously, flight suits were not necessary.
The pilot, a young captain, wearing the Military District of
Washington shoulder insignia and a West Point ring came into
Base Operations. He took one look at It. Colonel Hawkins and walked right to him. He saluted.
"Colonel Hawkins?"
Ask not, It. Col. Hawkins thought, for whom the bell tolls.
It tolls for thee.
"Yes, I am," he said.
"Good morning, sir. Are you ready to go? Can I help you
with your luggage?"
"Where are we going?" It. Colonel Hawkins asked.
"Let me have that bag, Colonel," the captain said, and then
held the door out to the flight line open for him.
The captain stowed Colonel Hawkins's bag in the rear of
the cabin and then walked forward.
"Good morning, Colonel," a little Jew in civilian clothing
said. "I'm Sanford Felter."
"How do you do?" It. Colonel Hawkins asked, wondering
just who the hell he was. There were two other passengers on
the airplane.
"May I present General de Brigade des Fernauds?" the little
Jew
said, and then switched to French. "Mon General, je
presente le Colonel Hawkins."
Hawkins had kept up his French. Four years of it at the
= Point, further practiced when he'd been in Germany.
"I am honored, my General," Hawkins said in French.
"I am very happy to meet you, Colonel," the French brigadier said, in English.
"General des Fernauds is the military attache," the little Jew
said.
The Aero Commander was already moving.
"Everybody ready back there?" the pilot called. It. Colonel
Hawkins slipped into a seat. He just had time to fasten the belt
when the plane turned, the engines roared, and it began to race
down the renway.
It. Colonel Hawkins realized he still had no idea where
they were going.
Thirty minutes later, they landed at Camp Rucker, Alabama.
Out the window, It. Colonel Hawkins saw workmen erecting a sign on the Base Operations building: LAIRD ARMY Airfield.
He remembered hearing somewhere that the field had been renamed in honor of Scotty Laird.
The captain who had fetched him at Benning came down the aisle again, but before he reached the door it was opened from the outside and a warrant officer stuck his head in.
"I didn't know they let lousy civilians on military airplanes," he said.
"Bonjour, mon petit," the Jew said, smiling broadly, looking almost playful.
The warrant officer climbed inside and was followed by a major. Hawkins saw, with the surprise that comes even to old soldiers when they actually see one of the blue starred ribbons of the Medal of Honor among the major's many other decorations.
"I swore I'd never get on another plane with you," the major said to the little Jew. "The last time, you nearly got my balls blown off."
"It's nice to see you, too, Major MacMillan," the little Jew said, with a wide smile.
"What the hell is all this, anyway? Bellmon's going to blow his cork when he comes back and finds both of us run off with you.,'
"Get on, sit down, and shut up," the Jew said to him. "Try to remember that you're supposed to be an officer and a gentleman."
When the warrant officer came into the cabin, he saw the
French general.
"Pardonez-moi, mon General," he said.
"Hello, Greer," the French general said. "It's good to see you again, my friend."
The warrant officer slipped into a seat across from It. Colonel
Hawkins.
"Good morning, sir," he said, formally.
"Good morning," LA. Colonel Hawkins said. The Aero
Commander was already turning away from the Base Operations building.
Not two hours later, the Aero Commander turned off a taxiway at New Orleans Lake Front Airport and parked beside a civilian Aero Commander. A tall man, blond and mustached, was leaning against its nose.
Felter was the first one out of the airplane. It. Colonel
Hawkins followed him out the door.
Felter walked up to the civilian and they shook hands.
"I thought you were coming in commercial," Felter said to him. "What brings you here?"
"I just landed," the man said. "I heard your pilot give his ten minutes out report, and I had a hunch it was you."
"What did you do, rent a plane?" Felter asked, a hint of tolerant disgust in his voice.
"Actually, I just bought it," the man said. "Just this morning.
- What do you think?"
"I think that's more ostentatious than Patton's polo ponies,"
Felter said.
The tall man shook hands with the man with the Medal.
"What do you say, Mac?" he said.
"Did I hear you say you bought that?" MacMillan asked.
"Yeah, you like it?"
"Who are you going to get to fly it for you?" MacMillan asked, innocently.
"You must be Greer," Lowell said, putting out his hand.
Bob Bellmon tells me you're the final solution for MacMillan."
"And what's that supposed to mean?" MacMillan asked.
"A twenty four hour a day keeper to read road signs and menus for you, that sort of thing," Lowell said.
They were smiling, but Hawkins sensed that there was a degree of genuine hostility between them. Or maybe contempt.
"What's this all about, Mouse?" Lowell asked. "I appreciate getting an excuse for teacher to get out of school and an excuse to fly my new little bird down here, but I am a little curious."
"This is Lieutenant Colonel Hawkins," Felter said. "He's going to take your place in Algiers."
"Oh," he said. He put out his hand to Hawkins. "I'm Major
Lowell, sir."
"How do you do?" Hawkins asked. He decided that he had not heard correctly or else that Major Lowell was joking about just having bought the civilian Aero Commander. Majors simply do not have that kind of money.
"Mon General," Felter said, "may I present Major Lowell?"
"Mon General," Lowell said, almost coming to attention before the general put out his hand to him.
"I'm happy to finally meet you, Major," the general said.
"Especially under such circumstances."
"May the major inquire into the nature of those circumstances, mon General?" Lowell asked.
"You have been a hero, again, Craig," Felter said. "And they are going to give you a medal, again."
Hawkins wondered just who the hell the little Jew could be.
Probably someone from the State Department. He realized that he had just heard that not only had his application for attache duty come through, but that he had been told where he was going. To Algiers.
They rode into downtown New Orleans in a Cadillac limousine with a Corps Diplomatique tag mounted above the license plate. They were taken to a turn-of-the-century mansion on Saint Charles Avenue. A brass plate mounted to the brick fence pillar identified it as Le Consulat General de Ia Republique
Francaise.
They were ushered into the office of the consul general.
Hawkins saw through French doors leading to another room that there was a buffet laid out, with half a dozen bottles of champagne in coolers.
"May I suggest, Monsieur le Consul," the French general said, "that we have our little ceremony? And then we can have, perhaps, something to drink."
"Until just now," Lowell said to Felter, "I thought you were kidding."
The consul took a blue-bound folder from his desk.
Felter pushed the warrant officer and Major Lowell into line before the consul.
"Dans le nom de Ia Republique francaise!" the consul announced, dramatically. The French general came to attention.
He read a citation. For valor in action in leading survivors of a shot-down aircraft through enemy lines in the vicinity of
Dien Bien Phu, French Indo-China, Major Rudolph G.
MacMillan, U.S. Army, was invested with the Legion of Honor, in the grade of Chevalier. General des Fernauds pinned the medal of the Legion of Honor on MacMillan's tunic and then kissed his cheeks.
"Dans le nom de Ia Republique francaise!" the consul announced dramatically again. For his gallantry in action in flying a helicopter through intense enemy small arms fire to bring succor to French soldiers wounded in counterinsurgency operations in Algiers on at least twenty occasions, Major Craig
W. Lowell was invested with the Legion of Honor in the grade of Chevalier.
"Dans le nom de In Republique Francaise!" the consul general announced, a third and final time. Majors MacMillan and Felter and Warrant Officer Greer were invested with the
Croix de guerre for their heroic rescue of a French Foreign legionnaire from the Viet Minh.
The champagne was served, and General des Femauds raised his glass.
"To those we left behind," he said. Everyone raised his glass, and drank. Then the general dropped his glass to the carpet and ground it with his he
el. Lowell and MacMillan,