W E B Griffin - Men at War 1 - The Last Heroes

by The Last Heroes(Lit)

  The major contributing factor to the high morale of the 105th Explosive Ordnance Disposal Detachment was their faith in their commanding officer's ability to get them off Bataan. The rest of the Battling Bastards were doomed, and everybody knew it, but there was hope for them.

  The officer who came looking for Lieutenant Whittaker had both a jeep and relatively clean clothes, although he was as gaunt from the three-eighths rations, no malaria pills, and overwork as anybody else on Bataan. The jeep and clean clothes identified him as a staff officer, probably from as far back as United States Armed Forces, Far East (USAFFE), at the tip of the peninsula.

  He carried with him the astonishing information that Lieutenant Whittaker had been ordered to Corregidor, there to report to General MacArthur personally.

  "Go back to him and say you couldn't find me," Whittaker said. "I don't intend to get stuck on the Rock."

  "It's an order, Lieutenant," the captain said. "No one's giving you a choice."

  "I've got all kinds of choices, Captain," Jim Whittaker said. "I'm only a temporary soldier."

  =M:. aaw namuzo 3 21

  "You're wearing an officer's uniform," the captain said. "You took an oath."

  "Good Christ, under these circumstances, aren't oaths and the rest of the trappings of officers and gentlemen pretty useless?" Whittaker snapped. "Jesus, the President of the United States gave his word to MacArthur that we would be reinforced and resupplied. With the Commander in Chief lying through his teeth, don't talk to me about an officer's honor."

  "Under these circumstances, Lieutenant," the captain said after a moment, "I would say that an officer's honor is more important than ever. I won't try to force you to go with me, but I will not go back and say I couldn't find you. It took gasoline to come up here." Whittaker said something in quick, fluent Spanish, and one of his technical sergeants went to the pickup truck and returned with a gallon tin can of gasoline.

  "You can have another five gallons if you're really low," Whittaker said.

  "Hoarding gas, too? You're a real credit to the officers corps, Whittaker," the captain said, But he pulled the cushion off the passenger seat so the offered gas could be put into his tank.

  "Withers," Whittaker said, making up his mind. "If I'm not back in twenty-four hours, go to Mindanao."

  "What about Mount Vesuvius?" Withers asked.

  "Fuck it, let someone else do it. Go to Mindanao."

  "You're counseling this man to desert?" the captain said.

  "Fuck you, Captain," Whittaker said. "Mind your own business." He took the Colt.45 revolver from his belt and extended it, butt first, to Withers.

  "You better keep it, Lieutenant," George Withers said. "You never know."

  Whittaker put it back in his belt.

  "I hope to come back," he said.

  "No, you don't," Withers said. He put out his hand.

  Whittaker had another thought. He had the only watch. He took it off and handed it to Withers. It was the Hamilton he had received in Cambridge from Chesty Whittaker on his graduation.

  "I hope I can give this back to you sometime,' "Withers said, and then he surprised Whittaker by tossing him a very snappy paradeground salute.

  "Good luck, Lieutenant," he said.

  The captain was surprised to see tears in the eyes of the Filipinos when they shook Whittaker's hand. They saluted as they drove away.

  Between Abucay and Mariveles, what the captain had heard kept gnawing at him.

  "You don't really think your sergeant is going to make it to Mindanao, do you?"

  "They're going to give it a good try," Whittaker said.

  "They'd need a boat," the captain said. "Where would they get a boat?" And then, when it became obvious Whittaker wasn't going to reply, he went on: "You sonofabitch, you've got a boat, don't you?"

  Whittaker looked at him but said nothing.

  4 4Where?"

  "So you can go requisition it?" Jim Whittaker asked. "I told those men if they would stick with me to the end, I'd do what I could to get them out of here."

  "I don't want to surrender," the captain said. "The Japanese have the Bushido notion that soldiers are supposed to die, not surrender. Surrender is disgraceful; those who surrender are treated accordingly."

  "You're going to be ordered to surrender," Whittaker said. "How are you goina to reconcile disobeying an order like that with your officer's code of honor?"

  "Not easily," the captain said, "but I am not going to surrender."

  "I realize how absurd this sounds," Whittaker said, "but if I tell you where the boat is, will you give me your word of honor you won't try to stop them?"

  -------------TRIM LAST MERGES 3a3

  "What I was thinking of doing was going back up there and telling them you told me to take over," the captain said. "My colonel will let me go, if I give him half an excuse."

  "If you knew where the boat was, Withers would believe you. Otherwise, he wouldn't ' " Whittaker said, "Are you going to tell me?" the captain said.

  "Let me think about it 5" Whittaker said.

  There were half a dozen pleasure cruisers tied up at Mariveles. Two of them were still capable of making the run between Mariveles and the island fortress of Corregidor.

  As he waited to board a thirty-two-foot Chriscraft whose interior had been stripped to the hull ribs by a fire, Whittaker turned to the captain.

  "I want those guys to try for Mindanao," he said. "Withers believes that Corregidor can hold out until help comes. I don't think help's coming. Corregidor's going to fall, and everybody on it is going to be captured. If I tell you where the boat is, will you try for Mindanao?"

  The captain nodded. Whittaker asked the captain for his name, and then wrote a note to Withers. The captain read it. It said that he was going to help them get to Mindanao.

  "It doesn't say where the boat is," the captain said.

  "I don't want you to suffer a relapse of officer's honor' 5' Whittaker said. "When it's time to go, Sergeant Withers will show you where the boat is."

  The captain met his eyes.

  "Thank you," he said. "Good luck on the Rock."

  "If you see a large flash and hear a large bang, that'll be me Whittaker said. "I think I made the mistake of letting the brass know that I'm very good at blowing ammo dumps."

  "Is that why they sent for you?"

  "Either that or MacArthur wants me to take over," Whittaker said.

  The other passengers, nurses, some of them they had been ordered to leave their patients, some of them simply looking dazed, arrived in the back of a truck and were put aboard the gutted Chriscraft.

  A sailor ordered Whittaker aboard.

  Whittaker and the captain looked at each other and shrugged shoulders; then Whittaker jumped into the Chriscraft. He put his hand out to steady himself. Whatever it was that he put his hand on moved. He looked at it. It was a very clever stainless-steel device in which yachtsmen could put their glasses so that Scotch on the rocks--or whatever they were drinking-would not splash on the carpet and leave a stain.

  They were strafed twice by Japanese aircraft between Mariveles and Corregidor, but the sailor was good at his job. He knew the exact moment when to spin the wheel and throw the engines in reverse, so that the stream of machine-gun fire went over their heads.

  Malinta Tunnel Fortress Corregidor 1550 Hours 11 Marcls 1942

  "Get rid of that hat," Lieutenant Colonel Sidney Huff said to First Lieutenant Jim Whittaker.

  Whittaker did as he was ordered, laying the Filipino peasant's straw hat on the concrete floor of the lateral of Malinta Tunnel.

  Huff went into a tiny cubicle off the lateral and then came immediately out.

  "General MacArthur will see you now, Lieutenant," he said, gesturing for Whittaker to come.

  MacArthur was sitting behind a GI table. Except for a telephone and in and OUT boxes, his famous gold-embroidered cap was the only thing on the desk.

  "Lieutenant Whittaker reporting as ordered, sir," Whi
ttaker said, and saluted.

  "I understand you were strafed on your way here MacArthur said.

  "Yes, sir."

  "But you came through all right," MacArthur said.

  "Yes, sir."

  "I was acquainted with your uncle," MacArthur said. "In happier times, we played bridge. I was distressed to learn of his passing.

  "Thank you, sir."

  "He would have been proud of you ' " MacArthur said. "Colonel Huff has made inquiries for me. Yours was the only fighter craft to rise and challenge the enemy at lba, as I understand it."

  "I took off, sir, because I knew that I would have no chance at all on the ground Whittaker said.

  "I have also been informed that you downed three of the enemy before you were yourself shot down. Is that the case?"

  "I wasn't shot down, General," Whittaker said. "When the Japanese, who were out of fuel, broke off engagement, lba's runways were blocked. I couldn't land there, so I made for Clark. I was machine-gunned as I made my approach to land."

  MacArthur obviously did not want to pursue that subject. "But a you did down three of the enemy?" he asked.

  "Yes, sir."

  "And your subsequent performance of duty, I have been informed, with the 26th Cavalry and with the Philippine Scouts, has been exemplary."

  Whittaker did not reply until MacArthur made it plain with his expression that he expected one. Then he said, "Thank you, sir."

  "Deserving of fonnal recognition MacArthur said. "I am therefore about to award you the Distinguished Flying Cross for your service as an aviator, and the Silver Star for your gallant service on Bataan. And you are promoted, effective today, to captain. I will pin the decorations on you, but you'll have to give them back. Our supply of the medals, like everything else, has been exhausted. Colonel Huff has found a captain's insignia for you somewhere."

  MacArthur got up and walked around the little table and pinned the two medals to the pocket of Jim Whittaker's white civilian shirt. Then, with some difficulty, he unpinned Whittaker's silver lieutenant's bar and replaced it with the twin silver bars of a captain.

  MacArthur stepped back and then shook Whittaker's hand with both of his.

  "Congratulations, Captain," he said. "It is a great honor to command courageous men such as yourself."

  Whittaker was at once embarrassed, pleased, and confused. He was made uncomfortable by the flattery, but pleased (although a comer of his mind said "So what?") to be a captain. And confused because it looked as if he had been ordered to Corregidor on some sort of whim by MacArthur.

  War is insane, Whittaker reasoned. Therefore, I should not be surprised that I have been sentfor to be given medals I can't keep, and a meaningless promotion.

  "I believe, Captain, you are acquainted with the Commander in Chief?" MacArthur asked.

  "Yes, sir," Whittaker said.

  "Sufficiently close to the President that he considered it his obligation to use military communications to direct me to inform you of your uncle's unfortunate demise," MacArthur said.

  He's pissed about that, Jim Whittaker thought. But certainly, he can't blame me for it.

  "I have received other communications from our Commander in Chief, Captain Whittaker, via the Chief of Staff, General Marshall. I have been ordered to leave Corregidor, the Philippine Islands, to assume command of United States forces in Australia. My wife, Colonel Sutherland, Colonel Huff, and others have put it to me that I cannot, as I would prefer to do, resign my commission and go into the ranks; that I have to obey that order.

  4@

  "At sunset tonight, we are leaving Corregidor aboard PT boats. You are going with us, Captain. On our arrival in Australia, you will be sent home, carrying a letter from me to our Commander in Chief, which you are ordered to deliver to him personally. As I recall, Mr. Roosevelt is a gracious man, and it is my hope, considering his affection for your late uncle, that he will give you a few minutes of his time. I wouldn't be surprised if he had you to dinner. If that should take place, I feel sure that you will be able to make him really aware of our situation here. Perhaps you will even be able to make the Commander in Chief aware of how difficult it has been for me to obey his order to desert my command."

  Our of the comer of his eye, Jim Whittaker could see Lieutenant Colonel Huff and read on his face that Huff had not known about this until just now.

  "Perhaps you will be good enough, Captain, to assist in loading the boats," MacArthur said.

  "Sir," Whittaker said, "I would prefer to go back to Bataan."

  "So would 1, Captain," MacArthur said. "You are dismissed."

  The Clolf Course Palace of the Pasha of Marrakech Marrakech, Morocco March 12, 1942

  Thami el Glaoui's eighth hole was a long, dogleg par five. A stroke-at least-could be saved by cutting across the dogleg, but that risked entanglement in a tall stand of trees beyond which was a cleverly placed pond. The pasha of Marrakech always played his eighth hole conservatively. The pasha of Ksar es Souk, on the other hand, when he was playing with Thami, always tried a shot across the trees. More often than not, this aggressiveness worked for him. But the pasha of Marrakech's more conservative play usually was victorious over the full eighteen holes. His final score would be five or six over par. On his good days, however, Sidi el Ferruch played under par. Today he was having a good day. He birdied the eighth while Thami doubled-bogied. Having chosen a five iron when he should have used a seven, he overshot the green.

  For a moment, this made him especially grumpy, because he knew he had only himself to blame. But his spirits improved after he made the ninth green-a nice little par three-in one. Since the pasha of Ksar es Souk also made it on, they walked to the green together.

  "Have the Americans revealed yet the name of the French officer?" Thami el Glaoui asked about halfway down the fairway.

  "No," said Sidi el Ferruch, "and in fact if I were them I would not reveal it until I had to."

  "Yes, I understand."

  "But I have tracked down the identity of the other man they plan to take away on their submarine."

  "Good."

  "His name is Grunier, and he is a mining engineer. I also found something else interesting about him: He is no American agent."

  460h?99

  "So I naturally asked myself why they want him-and badly enough to spirit him away by submarine."

  "And you founds"

  "Little, I'm sorry to say," el Ferruch said. "He has only recently come to Morocco. Before that he was in Katanga for a number of years. Since in Katanga there are no minerals the Americans need they can't obtain elsewhere, I'm puzzled about why the Americans want him. They have thousands of mining engineers, so it's not for his profession. He must therefore know about something either here or in Katanga that they want."

  "Why don't you question him?"

  "I'd like to, but unhappily that's not : prudent. If I had him de tained, the S&urit6 or the Gestapo-which means both in the endwould hear about it. And this would, as a minimum, displease our American friends, who, I'm convinced, prefer to keep the man obscure. And a casual conversation with him would bring the same result, since he would run to the S6curit6 the instant the conversation was over."

  "Then leave him to the Americans."

  "Yes, honored Father, I think that's best," Sidi el Ferruch said. "Although," he continued, "in light of my knowledge, we might be able to obtain more money for Grunier."

  "No," Thami el Glaoui said. "The Americans will invade North Africa this year, I'm sure of it. We are the back door to Europe. When that happens, they will need you and me. But before that happens, I don't want to be close to them-in their pocket, as they say. Deal with them now, but stay distant."

  "Yes, dear Father, I will." The old man was quite right, Sidi knew. "So then we don't need them waiting?"

  "Move. We've held them off long enough."

  "Good."

  "And their submarine?"

  "It will take two or three days for them to bring their submarine in."


  "Then send Mr. Baker his message."

  That evening, as Eldon Baker walked from his apartment to the caf6 where he usually took his supper, a Berber boy, backing out of a doorway with a huge basket of oranges in his arms, stumbled against him. They both collapsed onto the walk in a tangle of limbs and oranges. After they were up and straightened out, there was a piece of paper in Baker's jacket pocket that had not been there before. On the paper one word was written in curling, Arabic script: Hejira.