W E B Griffin - Corp 07 - Behind the Lines

by Behind The Lines(Lit)

"I understand. Thank you so very much, Mr. Dugan."

  "That's Chief Dugan, Ma'am. Good-bye, Ma'am."

  Chapter Five

  [ONE]

  Office of the Military Governor of Mindanao

  Cagayan de Oro, Misamis-Oriental Province

  Mindanao, Commonwealth of the Philippines

  0900 Hours 13 October 1942

  "My General," Lieutenant Colonel Tange Kisho said to Brigadier General Kurokawa Kenzo, "Captain Saikaku has been handling the matter of the clan-destine radio station and related matters. With your permission, Sir, I will ask him to brief the General."

  General Kurokawa nodded and looked at Saikaku. Instead of rising to his feet as Colonel Tange-and perhaps even General Kurokawa-expected him to do, Saikaku carefully set his teacup on the conference table and slumped back against his upholstered chair. He had decided that it was important to appear relatively unconcerned about the existence of this General Fertig and his radio station, and with Hideyori's inability to locate it.

  "My general," he began, "on 10 October, Lieutenant Hideyori's radio operators began hearing a coded message transmitted on the twenty-meter shortwave band. Hideyori brought this to my attention. The message was partly in the clear and partly encrypted. It was addressed to U.S. Forces in Aus-tralia.

  "At my direction, the message was forwarded to the Signals Intelligence Branch in Manila, together with several suggestions of mine to aid in the de-cryption process.

  "The same day, late in the afternoon, a radio station which we believe to be the U.S. Navy station on Mare Island, California, responded to the station here. That message was also encrypted. There has been a further exchange of messages since then, but let me take this one thing at a time.

  "This morning, Signals Intelligence Branch furnished me with their de-cryption of the first messages. They informed me the encryption was per-formed on a U.S. Army Model 94 cryptographic machine, two examples of which came into our hands on Luzon.

  "The first message, the one Hideyori's operators intercepted, was quite simple. Quote: We have the hot poop from the hot yanks in the phils Fertig brig gen. End quote."

  "So there is a General Fertig?" General Kurokawa interrupted.

  "We don't know that for sure, General," Saikaku said. "I'll touch on that in a moment. The body of the message is in American vernacular. 'Hot poop' is a slang expression meaning, roughly, 'fresh information."Hot yanks in the phils' obviously means 'Yankees in the Philippines.' "

  " 'Hot Yankees'?" General Kurokawa asked.

  "I don't know what that means, General. Possibly it refers to the heat. The reply from California told the station here to stand by-be attentive-at six the following morning. At that time, the California station asked MFS-the call sign of the station here-to furnish them the maiden name-the name of an unmarried woman's father-of Fertig's next of kin-presumably his wife- and her date of birth. This was furnished."

  "Obviously, then, there is a Fertig," General Kurokawa said.

  "Yes, Sir. A Fertig. Not necessarily a General Fertig. I have been looking into this. Nowhere in captured personnel records is there a record of a General Fertig. There is a record of a Major Fertig, believed killed during the Luzon campaign."

  "The Americans could have infiltrated this man somehow," General Kurokawa said. "Or it could be-what is the French phrase? A nom de guerre.

  "With all respect, Sir, based on the following messages, I have developed a theory. In my judgment, Sir, there was some doubt in the United States about this man's identity. They asked the maiden name and date of birth questions to make him prove who he is."

  "And?" General Kurokawa asked impatiently.

  "Immediately after the station here furnished the asked-for information, there was a message to Mrs. Fertig. Quote: Pineapples for breakfast. Love. End quote."

  "Which you think means what?"

  "The Dole Corporation, as I am sure the General knows, had extensive operations on this island. Pineapples and Mindanao have a meaning. I think it is entirely possible that this Fertig fellow has a connection with the Dole Cor-poration; he very well might be an executive. He was both further identifying himself and telling his wife where he is."

  "Presumably, you have inquired into this? I was under the impression that we have detained a number of Americans who worked for the Dole Plantation. Was there a Dole employee named Fertig?"

  "I have inquired, Sir, and the inquiries are continuing. We have fairly complete personnel records; the name Fertig does not appear on any of them.

  Which brings us to the General's very perceptive theory about a nom de guerre. Fertig is a German word meaning finished, or the end, something like that. What we very well may have here is a Dole executive, either from here or one of the other Dole operations in the Philippines, who has assumed the name Fertig. And has undertaken to harass us by announcing that he is a general."

  The General, Saikaku thought, is not above reacting to flattery. He liked that "very perceptive theory" comment.

  "That seems a possibility," General Kurokawa said, "but I would not rec-ommend that we dismiss the possibility that the Americans have either left be-hind someone-someone military-to cause us trouble, or sent someone in."

  "No such conclusion has been drawn, General," Saikaku said.

  "What about the radio station? Where is it?"

  "Somewhere in the mountains, Sir," Saikaku replied. "I have learned from Lieutenant Hideyori that location of a radio transmitter is not quite as simple as the Signals people would have us believe."

  "Explain that, please," General Kurokawa ordered.

  "I defer to Lieutenant Hideyori's expertise, Sir," Saikaku said, and waved his hand at the Signals Lieutenant.

  Hideyori jumped to his feet, came to attention, and bowed to General Kurokawa.

  "Sir, the enemy transmitter is in the mountains. The triangulation location technique requires two-preferably three-truck mounted directional radio antennae. When a signal is detected, the operators rotate the antennae, using a signal-strength meter. That indicates the direction of the transmitting antenna. A line is drawn on a map from the truck antenna in the direction of the trans-mitting antenna. Each truck does this. Where the lines converge on the map, one expects to find the transmitter."

  "Yes?"

  "In the mountains, Sir, it is very difficult to adjust the directional anten-nae. And the imprecision of the adjustment is magnified by distance. There are very few roads in the mountains which will take our trucks. The distance is great."

  "In other words, Lieutenant, you have not been able to locate the trans-mitter by triangulation?"

  "Yes, Sir. Sir, another problem is that the transmitter is operating only infrequently, not, as in the beginning, every hour on the hour."

  "Find this radio station, Lieutenant," General Kurokawa ordered, shut-ting him off.

  Hideyori came to attention again, bowed again, and sat down.

  "Has there been other communication between this radio station and the United States?"

  "They are not in communication with the Americans in Australia, Sir,"

  Saikaku said. "Yes, Sir. They have sent out the names of several of their offi-cers."

  "If they have 'several officers,' wouldn't that suggest to you that this is not just one pineapple-company employee harassing us?" General Kurokawa asked sarcastically.

  "Sir, we have checked the names against captured records. As you are aware, we do not have personnel rosters before the surrender; the Americans burned those. We have only rosters of personnel who entered captivity. Some of those subsequently escaped. None of the names of the escaped prisoners match those sent by this radio station. It is entirely possible that this man Fertig is transmitting names he has made up, for purposes of deception. And there have been no incidents of anything that might be construed as an attack against our forces. I do not believe," he concluded, "that there is an irregular force, just this man annoying us."

  "I devoutly hope you are right, Captain Saikaku
," General Kurokawa said. "Thank you all for coming to see me."

  [TWO]

  Naval Air Transport Command Passenger Terminal

  United States Naval Base

  Pearl Harbor, Oahu, Territory of Hawaii

  0625 Hours 16 October 1942

  In his own mind Brigadier General Fleming W. Pickering, USMCR, tended to see himself primarily as a reasonably competent ship's master and business-man-in civilian life he had been the Chairman of the Board of the Pacific & Far East Shipping Corporation-dragged by force of circumstances into situa-tions very little connected with his experience in either commanding a ship or running a Fortune 500 Corporation.

  Shortly after the start of the war-like many other top-level corporate ex-ecutives-he was offered a position at the newly formed Office of Strategic Services. When he arrived in Washington, he found the position offered was not only second-level but would leave him immediately subordinate to a man for whom he had virtually no respect. He furthermore believed this action was less an evaluation of his potential value to the OSS than a gratuitously insulting payback from Colonel William Donovan, head of the OSS. Donovan was a Wall Street lawyer with whom he had had several acrimonious business deal-ings.

  He declined the position-in another acrimonious meeting with Dono-van-and then volunteered his services to the United States Marine Corps. De-spite the Distinguished Service Cross he had earned in the trenches in France in World War I, the Marines had no place for him, either. About to return to his San Francisco office, he had a chance meeting with Secretary of the Navy Frank Knox in the hotel suite of their mutual close friend Senator Richardson K. Fowler. Over more than a couple of drinks, he suggested to Knox that after the unmitigated disaster at Pearl Harbor, the decent thing for him to do was resign.

  That unabashed candor, and Pickering's reputation in the upper echelons of the American business community, were enough to make Knox realize that Pickering was just the man he needed to be his eyes and ears in the Pacific. If he himself did not intimidate Pickering, Knox concluded, and if Wild Bill Donovan didn't either, no admiral in the Pacific was likely to daunt him; nor, for that matter, was General Douglas MacArthur.

  Knox's character assessment had proved valid. On his initial trip to the Pacific-Knox had arranged for him to be commissioned as a Navy Captain- Pickering prepared clear-eyed reports detailing how bad the situation really was. These often differed significantly from the reports Knox had been getting from the admirals at CINCPAC (Commander-In-Chief, Pacific) headquar-ters-which confirmed Knox's fears that he was being told only what the ad-mirals wished him to hear. In addition, Pickering somehow established a strong personal relationship with General Douglas MacArthur. This, in Knox's view, was extraordinary, for MacArthur was not only a notorious loner, but he was surrounded by a group of senior officers-"The Bataan Gang"-who had served with him in the Philippines and regarded it as their duty to keep their Supreme Commander isolated from outsiders.

  Knox's pleasure with his selection of Pickering turned out to be short- lived, however. Without any authorization, Pickering sailed with the invasion fleet to Guadalcanal in the Solomon Islands. Shortly after the invasion, there was a message from him expressing, in precise detail, his dissatisfaction with the Navy's role in the invasion. He then further manifested his displeasure by going ashore. Once there, he placed himself at the service of Major General Alexander Archer Vandegrift, the commander of the First Marine Division, and somewhat melodramatically volunteered to perform any duties he might be assigned, if only those of a rifleman.

  Inasmuch as the Navy assault fleet had sailed away, leaving the Marines alone on their beachhead-the source of Pickering's contempt-Vandegrift was not able to order the first Navy captain he had ever seen in Marine Corps utilities and carrying a Springfield rifle back aboard a ship with his polite thanks. Shortly afterward, the 1st Marine Division G-2 was killed in combat. By that time, Pickering had so impressed Vandegrift with his intelligence and competence that Vandegrift, short of senior officers, appointed him Acting G-2, until a trained replacement could be sent to the island.

  After a month Pickering reluctantly left Guadalcanal, and then only on the direct orders of Secretary Knox, who had ordered the captain of a Navy de-stroyer making an emergency supply run to Guadalcanal not to leave unless he had Pickering safely aboard. En route to Espiritu Santo, from where Pickering was to be flown to the United States, the destroyer was attacked by a Japanese bomber and her captain killed. Although seriously wounded himself, Pickering assumed command of the destroyer, not because he was the senior Naval offi-cer aboard, but because he believed himself to be the best-qualified mariner aboard-with some justification: he had been licensed as a Master Mariner, Any Tonnage, Any Ocean, at twenty-six.

  Pickering's exploits, meanwhile, came to the attention of President Roose-velt, not only through Secretary Knox but also through the Commander-in-Chief, Pacific, who wanted him decorated for his behavior aboard the destroyer, and through Senator Richardson K. Fowler (R., Cal.), Pickering's lifelong friend and the man the President described privately as the "leader of my none-too-loyal opposition."

  Roosevelt saw in Pickering the same qualities Knox did. Moreover, he felt a certain personal kinship with him, despite their political differences: Both had sons serving in combat in the Marine Corps. Thus, he overrode the strong, if politely expressed, objections of the Marine Corps establishment and com-missioned Pickering a brigadier general, USMC Reserve.

  Shortly after that, he was named Chief, USMC Office of Management Analysis. This was done-at Secretary Knox's "suggestion"-primarily be-cause it gave Management Analysis a general officer, essential in the waging of bureaucratic wars in Washington. It also gave him a billet on USMC man-ning charts. At the same time, it was presumed that Pickering would permit Colonel F. L. Rickabee, a career intelligence officer and the previous Chief, to run things as they had been run. This was an error in judgment. Having been placed in charge, Pickering assumed command.

  To everyone's surprise, Rickabee was not outraged. In fact, he seemed de-lighted with Pickering's leadership. This proved true even after Pickering ig-nored all advice and ordered, from his hospital bed, the evacuation of two Marines operating a Coastwatcher Station on the Japanese-held island of Buka and were in imminent danger of death either from Japanese action or starva-tion. The operation was successfully completed before formal objections to it could work their way through the military hierarchy.

  "I have something to say," Brigadier General Pickering said softly. Pickering was in his early forties, tall, distinguished looking, and he wore a superbly tai-lored uniform, the breast of which displayed an impressive array of colored ribbons attesting to his valor both in World War I and the current conflict.

  Four Marines turned to look at him: Major Homer C. "Jake" Dillon, USMCR, a stocky, crew-cutted man in his middle thirties; First Lieutenant Kenneth R. McCoy, USMCR, a well-built, lithe, even-featured young man in his early twenties; Sergeant George F. Hart, USMC, a twenty-four-year-old with the build of a circus strong man; and Corporal Robert F. Easterbrook, who weighed 132 pounds, was nineteen years old, and looked younger.

  "I want to say thank you," General Pickering said, "to you three"-he indicated the Major, the Lieutenant, and the sergeant-"for the Buka Opera-tion. You carried it off without a hitch. It couldn't have been done without you. You're a credit to The Corps."

  "Yeah, we know, Flem," Major Dillon replied. "You really didn't have to get out of bed at this time of the morning to tell us."

  Majors do not normally address general officers by their first names, nor mock them, no matter how softly. But the relationship between these two was a bit out of the ordinary. Before they had donned Marine uniforms for the second time in their lives, Jake Dillon, Vice President, Publicity, Metro-Magnum Stu-dios, and Fleming Pickering had been friends.

  Pickering shook his head in tolerant resignation, not indignation.

  "Shut up, Jake," he said. "I'm serious about this."
/>
  "You're embarrassing the Killer," Dillon said, unrepentant, nodding at Lieutenant McCoy. "The next thing you know, he'll be blushing."

  "Fuck you, Jake," Lieutenant McCoy snapped unpleasantly.

  "You never know when to stop, do you, Jake?" General Pickering said. "You know he hates to be called 'Killer.' "

  "Flem, you gave us a job to do, we did it. Leave it at that."

  "No, I won't," Pickering said. "As soon as I can find somebody who knows how to fill out the forms, I'm going to do my level best to see that you're all decorated."

  "With respect, Sir," McCoy said. "Howard and Koffler deserve a medal, not us."

  "The way things are run in The Marine Corps, Lieutenant, generals make decisions like that," Pickering said.

  "Yes, Sir."

  A loudspeaker went off, harshly but audibly ordering all passengers for the San Diego flight to proceed to the motor whaleboat for boarding of the aircraft.