W E B Griffin - Corp 07 - Behind the Lines
Page 36
[TWO]
Headquarters, U.S. Forces in the Philippines
Oavao Oriental Province
Mindanao, Commonwealth of the Philippines
0940 Hours 28 November 1942
"Lieutenant," Sergeant Ignacio LaMadrid said, "Australia's calling."
"I'll go get the General," Lieutenant Ball replied. "He said he wanted to be here when they did."
LaMadrid turned to his key and tapped out: MFS TO GYB GA (Go Ahead). Then he put his fingers on his typewriter keyboard and took the incom-ing message. When he was finished, he tapped out MFS SB (Standing By), and then tore the carbon paper sandwich from the typewriter. He laid the bottom sheet, on which the message was legible, on his "desk," then placed a fresh sheet of blank paper under the carbon, arranged it neatly, and fed the fresh sandwich to his typewriter.
Then he read the message from Supreme Headquarters, South West Pacific Ocean Area.
GYB TO MFS
USE AS SIMPLESUB Z FIRST NAME BANNING WIFE Z SECOND NAME Z PERCYS HOMETOWN Z
20 19 18 03 13
09 08 02 09 20
18 17 04 19 20
RPT
20 19 18 03 13
09 08 02 09 20
18 17 04 19 20
MFS SB
He had absolutely no idea what it meant; and neither, he quickly learned, did General Fertig, Captain Buchanan, and Lieutenant Ball-except, of course, that Captain Buchanan knew Australia wanted them to use a simple substitu-tion code.
"Ball, go get Captain Weston and Lieutenant Everly," Buchanan ordered. They appeared within minutes, Everly's clean-shaven face and clean, if water-soaked, white cotton blouse and jacket indicating he had been summoned from his toilette in the stream that ran through the command post of United States Forces in the Philippines.
"I think this is intended for you, Lieutenant," Fertig said. "You have any idea what it means?"
"Banning's wife's name is Ludmilla Zhivkov," Everly said almost imme-diately. "There aren't many people who know that. Killer McCoy would be one of them."
"That sounds Russian," Fertig thought aloud.
"It is," Everly said. "She's a Russian refugee. She didn't get out of Shang-hai. Neither did my wife. They're together. That's how I know Milla's name."
"How do you spell it?" Captain Buchanan asked, sitting down at the rat-tan "desk."
As Everly spelled the name, Buchanan wrote each letter as a large block letter, then asked Everly what his home was, and wrote those letters down in large letters. Above the letters, he carefully wrote numerals above each letter.
1234567890123456789012345
LUDMILLAZHIVKOVZANESVILLE
"OK, now we have the code. Somebody read out those numbers to me. Slowly."
General Fertig read out the numbers one at a time, moving to stand behind Buchanan as he did so.
When Buchanan was finished, he had this:
S E N D Z
20 19 18 03 09
K Z A U T
13 09 08 02 09
S Z N A M
20 09 18 17 04
E S Z Z Z
19 20 09 09 09
"What the hell does that mean?" Fertig asked, bewildered and annoyed.
"General, the 'Z' is a wild card. You'll notice they used 'Z's as sentence breaks in the original message?"
Fertig was ahead of him. "Send... Krauts... Name," he translated.
"I believe that's 'names,' Sir, plural," Buchanan said.
"Who's the Kraut, Everly?" Fertig asked.
"Zimmerman," Everly said. "What the hell was his first name?"
"Not again, Everly, please!" Weston said.
"August," Everly said, and then triumphantly: "No. Ernest. Ernest Zim-merman."
"You're sure?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Send them that," Fertig ordered.
It took just over a minute for Buchanan to encode the name and to hand it to Sergeant LaMadrid, with the order, "Just send the numbers, send them twice."
"Yes, Sir," LaMadrid said, and tapped out the reply on his radiotelegraph key:
MFS TO GYB
19 09 18 25 20
09 09 05 04 04
19 09 04 17 18
HPT
19 09 18 25 20
09 09 05 04 04
19 09 04 17 18
MFS SB
There was an immediate reply from Australia:
GYB TO MFS
ACK YR NO 1
SB
Sergeant LaMadrid read it aloud-translated it-as it came in: "Acknowl-edge receipt your message Number One. Stand by."
"What's that message number business?" Fertig asked. "They've never
done that before."
"I think until about thirty seconds ago, Sir," Weston said, "Australia thought LaMadrid spelled his name T-O-J-0."
"Here comes another one," LaMadrid said, and this time, as he typed, he called the numbers out loud. Buchanan had already begun the decoding before the numbers were repeated.
He handed it to General Fertig.
M E L L S
04 09 01 06 20
E E Z 0 U
25 19 09 14 02
S 0 0 N K
20 14 14 18 13
I L L E Z
11 06 07 19 09
"What the hell do you suppose 'mells eezou soonk illez' means?" Fertig asked softly.
"Sir," Buchanan said, his voice tight, "I believe it means 'we'll see you soon, signature Killer.' "
He looked over at Lieutenant Everly.
"What do you make of it, Everly?"
"Yes, Sir. I think that's what it means. Zimmerman and the Killer. I'd say it means they're coming in."
"It doesn't say that," General Fertig said.
"What else could it mean, Sir?" Everly asked, and then excitedly added, "Quentin Alexander McPherson. Fucking Quentin fucking Alexander fucking McPherson!"
"What?" General Fertig asked.
"I believe Lieutenant Everly's memory has returned, Sir," Captain Weston said.
[THREE]
Office of the Kempeitai Commander for Mindanao
Cagayan de Oro, Misamis-Oriental Province
Mindanao, Commonwealth of the Philippines
1050 Hours 28 November 1942
"Sir, these messages between Fertig and Australia were intercepted within the past hour," Lieutenant Hideyori Niigata said, and laid a manila folder on Cap-tain Matsuo Saikaku's desk.
When Saikaku finished examining them and looked up at Hideyori, Hide-yori added, "They have been forwarded to Signals Intelligence in Manila, Sir."
"And how soon may we expect to have a decryption from them?"
"Sir, there is no way of telling."
"You have advised them, of course, of Kempeitai's interest in this? That this matter is to have a high priority?"
"Yes, Sir, of course. Sir, may I ask how familiar the Captain is with simple substitution encryption?"
"I am always willing, Hideyori, to add to my knowledge."
"The difficulty in decoding simple substitution encryption, Sir, arises be-cause the sender and the receiver have access to information the interceptor does not."
"Explain that, please."
"The Captain will notice that the sender is telling the receiver to use the first and second names of Banning's wife and the hometown of Percy. The receiver will write that information in a line, and then write numbers, from zero one through how many letters there are in the names..."
Hideyori saw the confusion on Saikaku's face.
"Sir, perhaps it might be a good idea if I demonstrated?"
"Please do," Saikaku said.
The demonstration took about five minutes. When it was finished, Captain Saikaku was aware of the difficulty the Signals Intelligence people would have decoding the message.
"What this means is that we stand virtually no chance of decoding this message?"
"Oh, no, Sir. The Signals Intelligence people are quite clever, and have developed several techniques that will permit them eventually
to decode these messages. But, unfortunately, that's likely going to take some time."
"How much time?" Saikaku asked coldly. "Two days? A week? A month?"
"If I had to guess, Sir, I would say five days to a week."
"Splendid!" Saikaku said sarcastically.
"Sir, I had some thoughts...."
"What kind of thoughts?"
"Sir, I am sure that someone like yourself, an officer of the Kempeitai, almost certainly has already-"
"The one thing you learn in the Kempeitai, Hideyori, is never to give in to the temptation not to turn over the last rock. For it is often under that last rock that you find what you're looking for. Please go on."
"Sir, I have noticed that there seems to be a question of the legitimacy of this General Fertig, and of his U.S. Forces in the Philippines."
"He's a bandit, Hideyori. By definition, bandits are illegitimate."
"Sir, I was speaking of his legitimacy in the eyes of the Americans in Australia."
"Go on."
"I am sure the Captain noticed the next-to-last message."
"What about it?"
"It says, Sir-GYB, the Australian station says-'ACK YR NO 1.' That means 'We acknowledge receipt of your message Number 1.' And then it or-ders them 'SB'-Stand By. That never happened before. It seems to me, Sir, that it could mean acceptance in Australia that Fertig is who he says he is. In other words, it could be official recognition."
"And, of course, it could mean nothing at all," Saikaku said. "But that was very clever of you, Hideyori. In the future, please give me all of your thoughts."
"It will be my pleasure, Sir."
[FOUR]
T O P S E C R E T
FROM: CINCPAC HAWAII
1615 28N0V42
EYES ONLY-BRIG GEN FLEMING PICKERING USMC
DUPLICATION FORBIDDEN
ORIGINAL TO BE DESTROYED AFTER ENCRYPTION AND TRANSMITTAL
FOLLOWING PERSONAL FROM CINCPAC TO BRIG GEN PICKERING USMC
DEAR FLEMING:
(1) DEEPLY REGRET TO INFORM YOU INFORMATION FROM COMMANDING GENERAL HAWAII DEPARTMENT USARMY AIRCORPS INDICATES MAJOR JAMES C. BROWNLEE III USMC DEPARTED HICKAM FIELD AS SUPERCARGO ABOARD USARMY AIRCORPS Bl7 TAIL NUMBER 48-455502 DESTINATION MIDWAY. AIRCRAFT ENCOUNTERED MECHANICAL DIFFICULTIES APPARENTLY RESULT OF SEVERE WEATHER APPROXIMATELY 250 NAUTICAL MILES NORTHEAST OF MIDWAY. PERSONNEL ABOARD OTHER B17 AIRCRAFT IN FLIGHT OF SEVEN REPORT 42-455502 CRASHED AND BROKE UP ATTEMPTING DITCHING OPERATION IN HEAVY SEAS APPROXIMATELY 0725 HOURS LOCAL TIME 22 NOVEMBER 1942.
NO SURVIVORS WERE SEEN AT TIME OF DITCHING, AND NAVY AND USARMY AIRCORPS AIRCRAFT WHICH FLEW TO CRASH SITE WHEN WEATHER CLEARED 23 NOVEMBER FOUND NEITHER SURVIVORS NOR CRASH DEBRIS.
(2) COMMANDING GENERAL HAWAII DEPARTMENT USARMY AIRCORPS HAS DETERMINED B-17 AIRCRAFT 42-455502 ITS CREW AND PASSENGER PERISHED IN THE LINE OF DUTY 0730 HOURS MIDWAY TIME 22 NOVEMBER 1942. INASMUCH AS AIRCORPS DOES NOT HAVE INFORMATION REGARDING MAJOR BROWNLEE'S UNIT, ROUTINE NOTIFICATION OF NEXT OF KIN, ET CETERA HAS NOT REPEAT NOT BEEN MADE. PLEASE ADVISE SOONEST HOW YOU WISH THIS TO BE HANDLED.
(3) REAR ADMIRAL DANIEL J.WAGAM OF MY STAFF DEPARTED PEARL HARBOR 1625 THIS DATE TO CONFER WITH SUPREME COMMANDER SWPOA. WHILE IN BRISBANE, HE WILL DISCUSS WITH YOU PROBLEMS CONNECTED WITH SUBMARINE AVAILABILITY. COMPLIANCE WITH 17 NOVEMBER DIRECTIVE FROM ADMIRAL LEAHY IN THIS REGARD WHICH I PRESUME YOU HAVE SEEN WILL BE VERY DIFFICULT FOR REASONS WAGAM WILL MAKE KNOWN TO YOU.
BEST PERSONAL REGARDS CHESTER
END PERSONAL FROM ADM NIMITZ BRIG TO GEN PICKERING
BY DIRECTION:
MCNISH, CAPTAIN USN
T O P S E C R E T
[FIVE]
Water Lily Cottage
Brisbane, Australia
0610 Hours 29 November 1942
Brigadier General Fleming Pickering found First Lieutenant Kenneth R. McCoy in the library, sitting before a typewriter at one of the desks, obviously deep in thought. Or frustration. The long, thin, black cigar in his mouth seemed cocked at an angry angle.
"Am I interrupting, Ken?" Pickering asked.
In one smooth continuous movement, McCoy rose to his feet, snatched the cigar from his mouth, and came to something like the prescribed position of attention.
"Good morning, Sir," he said. He was, Pickering noticed, clean-shaven, his haircut was perfect, and he was wearing a fresh uniform. "No, Sir."
"Typewriter giving you trouble?"
Pickering had sent Pluto out to buy typewriters for Water Lily Cottage on the open market, after getting them from the officer in charge of office equipment at SWPOA seemed more trouble than it was worth. The battered Under-woods Pluto found had cost approximately three times what they had cost new ten years before. Australia had been at war since 1940. Despite official price controls, shortages of practically everything but food had driven prices up.
"It's seen better days, Sir."
"I heard the typewriter, the noise, and thought you could probably use some coffee," Pickering said, holding up a silver coffeepot in one hand and two coffee cups in the other. And then he told the truth. "I'd like to talk to you, Ken."
"Yes, Sir?"
"But it will hold. Finish what you're doing."
"This will hold," McCoy said. "It's only a letter to Ernie."
" 'Only a letter to Ernie'?" Pickering parroted. "That's not important anymore?"
McCoy reached into his open collar and came out with a round silver me-dallion on a silver chain.
"I'm writing a thank-you for this," he said. "I really don't know what to say."
"What is it?"
"It's an Episcopal serviceman's cross," McCoy said. "It was in that pack-age Sessions brought me."
"You're Episcopal?"
"I'm not much of anything. Most people hear McCoy, think it's Irish, and that I'm Catholic. But I'm Scotch, and that's Presbyterian, and I never had much to do with them."
"Ernie's Episcopal," Pickering said. "So am I. Would you believe that Pick sang in the choir, that he was an altar boy?"
"Pick's behind this," McCoy said. "Charley Galloway's girlfriend sent him one. Pick saw Galloway's on the Buka Operation and decided he wanted one. He wrote and asked his mother for one. She told Ernie's mother, Ernie's mother told Ernie, and here is mine. It came in a little red velvet bag with 'Tif-fany & Company' printed on it."
"Well, I think it's a very nice gesture. It can't hurt, Ken." He paused, and then went on. "You're not religious? Is that the problem?"
"Oh, I believe in God, I suppose. But I think there's a lot of guys in graves on Guadalcanal, and in the Philippines, who did a lot of hard praying just before they were blown away."
"I have my problems with organized religion," Pickering said. "But I'm a sailor. I don't see how anyone who has counted the stars on a clear night on the high seas or watched the sun come up in the middle of an ocean can doubt the existence of a superior power."
McCoy chuckled. "Me either. My problem is that I really don't believe that God is all that interested in Ken McCoy, personally."
"Did you pray when you were hit?" Pickering asked.
McCoy shook his head, no. "But I said 'thank you' when I got back to Washington and Ernie was waiting for me."
"I said 'thank you' when El Supremo told me VMF-229 was relieved on the 'Canal, and that Pick had come through all right. And when you all came back from Buka in one piece."
"Not when you got hit?" McCoy asked.
"You mean this time?" Pickering asked, and then went on before McCoy could reply. "I suppose I did. I probably did. I don't really remember. At my age, you say 'thank you' for other people's lives. I figure I've had my fair share and more."
McCoy looked at him in curiosity.
"I didn't really expect to come back from France," Pickering said. "When I did, when I came out of the trenches for the last time, I figured what-ever came afterward would be gravy. And it turned out that way."