“None whatever,” Smith said, and offered Hart his hand. “I suppose that ‘uncanny ability’ was useful to you as a policeman. Or is that an acquired skill?”
Jesus, he knows all about George.
“I think I got it from my father, sir,” Hart said. “He was a cop, too.”
“Have you had lunch?” Smith asked.
“No, sir,” Pickering said.
“Well, we could go downstairs, but if we ordered a sandwich here—they do a very nice open-faced roast beef, and a chicken club—we could talk while we eat. Your call.”
“An open-faced roast beef sandwich sounds fine to me, General,” Pickering said.
“Captain?”
“Roast beef’s fine with me, sir.”
Smith went to the telephone and ordered the sandwiches and “a very large pot of coffee.” Then he turned to Pickering. “To get to the starting line, the President will have a press conference at five o’clock, at which he will announce my appointment as Director of the CIA. I will have to be there, so we have until, say, half past four. That should be enough time, don’t you think?”
“Yes, sir,” Pickering said.
Smith took an envelope from his jacket pocket and extended it to Pickering.
“The President sent this over,” Smith said. “I understand you’ve seen it.”
Pickering opened the envelope. It held the message from General Howe that Truman had shown him earlier.
“Yes, sir, I have,” Pickering said.
“Have you?” Smith asked of Hart.
“No, sir.”
“I told George what I thought he should know, sir,” Pickering said.
“I think it would be useful if you saw the whole thing,” Smith said.
Pickering handed Hart the envelope.
“Before the waiter gets here, General,” Smith said, “I’d like your opinion of why this war came as a complete surprise not only to General MacArthur but to the CIA as well.”
Christ, he goes right for the jugular!
Screw it. When you don’t know what to say, try telling the truth.
“When the intelligence gathered by some of Mac-Arthur’s intelligence people went against the intelligence conclusions of MacArthur’s G-2, it was buried,” Pickering said.
“Okay. That explains MacArthur’s surprise. But why did the CIA fail so completely?”
“The CIA Tokyo station chief regarded himself as a member of MacArthur’s staff,” Pickering said. “And was not about to disagree with the conclusions of General Willoughby, as endorsed by General MacArthur.”
“And you think he should have disagreed?”
“I think he should have drawn his own conclusions from his own sources and sent them directly to Admiral Hillencoetter without discussing them with—and certainly not allowing them to be censored by—anyone in the Dai Ichi Building.”
“What you’re saying, General, is that the Tokyo station chief was derelict in the performance of his duties?”
“Yes, sir, I guess I am.”
“Then why didn’t you relieve him when you went over there and came to this conclusion?”
“There were several reasons, sir,” Pickering said. “For one thing, McCoy told me he had developed his own sources—”
“I’m really looking forward to meeting Major ‘Killer’ McCoy,” Smith interrupted. “The President seems very taken with him. Where is he now?”
“Probably in North Korea—or China—looking for General Dean,” Pickering replied, and added, “and my son.”
Smith met Pickering’s eyes for a long moment but did not respond directly.
“You were saying McCoy said he had his own sources?”
“Which had proven to be more reliable than those of General Willoughby,” Pickering went on, “so I didn’t need the station chief’s intel . . . which, presumably, he was already furnishing to Willoughby and Hillencoetter anyway. I didn’t know if I had the authority to relieve him, or whether that had to be cleared with the CIA, and the moment I started to relieve him, Willoughby would learn of it, possibly cause trouble here, and certainly make him keep a closer eye on me than he already was.”
“The President’s right,” Smith said. “You do have a loose-cannon tendency, don’t you?”
“Is that what he said?” Pickering said.
This is not going well. If I were this man, I would not want me working for me.
So what do I do now?
Ask the Marine Corps to keep me on at least until we find out what happened to Pick?
Ask for immediate release from active duty and just stay in Tokyo? If I do that, I probably wouldn’t be able to get permission to go to Korea.
“That’s what he said,” Smith replied, evenly, with a little smile, then asked: “What do you want to do about the Tokyo station chief?” Smith asked.
“If I were to become your deputy for Asia . . .”
“Please don’t tell me you’re having second thoughts about that,” Smith said. “I need you over there.”
Jesus, I didn’t expect that!
“We don’t know how well we would work together,” Pickering said.
“I think I’ll be considerably easier for you to work with than General Donovan was,” Smith said. “I understand that your personal relationship with him . . .”
“Was about as bad as a relationship can be,” Pickering said.
“You are taking the job, right?”
“I’m surprised it’s still being offered,” Pickering said.
“What are you doing, General, fishing for a compliment? Yes, it’s still being offered, because both the President and I think you’re the best man to do what has to be done.”
They locked eyes for a moment.
“Yes, sir, I’ll take the job,” Pickering said. “Thank you.”
“Okay. Now, what do you want to do about the Tokyo station chief?”
“One of the reasons I didn’t relieve him when I first got to Tokyo was that I was afraid he’d go to Washington and spend all his time throwing monkey wrenches into my gears.”
“He’s gone,” Smith said. “Or will be as soon as I can order him home. And he will not be sniping at you from the rear. What about his replacement?”
“Off the top of my head, I have no idea,” Pickering admitted.
“I thought I was going to hear two names,” Smith said. "Major K. R. McCoy and Colonel Edward Banning. I don’t think McCoy has the experience, but what’s wrong with Banning?”
“Absolutely nothing is wrong with Colonel Banning,” Pickering said quickly and firmly.
“Why have you got him sitting around Camp Pendleton doing a job that could be done by a lot of far more junior people who don’t have a tenth of his experience as an intelligence officer?” When Pickering didn’t immediately reply, Smith added: “I know that he worked for you in the Second War, and what he did.”
“I guess the truth, General,“ Pickering said, “is that while I often thought how much I need Ed Banning in Tokyo, I didn’t have the balls to make waves. Either about getting rid of the Tokyo station chief or about asking Admiral Hillencoetter to name Banning in his place.”
“It usually helps, if you’re going to make waves, to be sure of your authority,” Smith said. “Now that that question has been resolved, I take it if I named Colonel Banning as Tokyo station chief, I would have your concurrence?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I’ll issue the necessary orders tomorrow, as my first order of business. Or maybe even tonight. I thought I would drop by there tonight, unannounced, just to see what I could see. How soon do you want Banning in Tokyo?”
“As soon as possible, sir.”
[THREE]
OFFICE OF THE CHIEF OF STAFF HEADQUARTERS X U.S. CORPS SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA 0825 11 OCTOBER 1950
There were three full colonels sitting on folding chairs facing the folding desk of the chief of staff, who was also a full colonel.
A somewhat irreverent thought occurred to Col
onel T. Howard Kennedy, the X Corps Transportation Officer: It’s like Orwell said. Some pigs are more equal than other pigs.
“The general does not want any delays when we go aboard the ships,” the chief of staff—the most equal of all the pigs—said. “Comments, please.”
T. Howard Kennedy had another irreverent thought: That’s a nice thought, but it’s like hoping for a white Christmas. Nice if you can get it, but unlikely.
There were going to be delays in loading X Corps aboard the ships that would constitute the invasion fleet for the Wonsan landing. That was a given. There were always delays.
This maneuver was probably going to have more delays than the general was going to like, which was going to be a problem for everybody in the chief of staff’s office. Major General Edward M. Almond expected his orders to be obeyed as he wanted them to be obeyed, which was sometimes impossible to accomplish, and when that happened, Almond’s temper was legendary.
The chief of staff was looking at Colonel Kennedy, which told Kennedy that the chief of staff considered this meeting a conference, which was different from just being summoned by the chief of staff to receive orders. In a conference, comments were solicited before orders were issued. And conferees presented their comments in reverse order of rank, most junior first. This ensured that whatever the junior officer had to say was not influenced by the comments of the officers senior to him.
The pecking order here placed Kennedy at the bottom. The Transportation Office wasn’t even a G-Section, but rather a subsection of the Office of the Assistant Chief of Staff for Plans and Operations, G-3. The G-3 and the G-4 (Supply) were supposed to be more or less equal, but the G-3 called the shots.
“There are six truck companies available,” Kennedy said. “Four—two with the Marines and two with the 25th Division—are operational, and will of course be available to move people and gear to Inchon when the orders are issued. Two are in reserve, and I have given operational control of one of them to the G-4 so that he can start moving whatever he wants to move to Inchon whenever he wants to move it. Similarly, I have given operational control of half of the remaining truck company to the Headquarters Commandant here for the same purpose. The other half remains in reserve.
“The only unit over which I exercise staff control is the vehicle exchange company, the 8023d. Five days ago, I started to move it to the wharfs in Inchon for on-loading.”
“Howard,” the G-4 said, “I hope you’re not going to tell me they’re already on-loaded?”
“No. They are probably in the process by now, but, no, they’re not on-loaded. I was going to go down there this morning and see how things are going.”
“I’m a little confused,” the G-3 said. “You said you told them to move five days ago. And they’re only ‘probably’ in the process of on-loading? How long does it take them to move from one side of Inchon to the other?”
The chief of staff snorted.
“Bob, there are almost six hundred vehicles in the 8023d—” Kennedy started to reply.
“Almost?” the G-4 interrupted.
“Five hundred seventy-nine, Gerry,” Kennedy finished.
“And their condition?”
“I sent you a report, Gerry,” Kennedy said. “There are five hundred seventy-nine ready for issue, plus seven beyond the company’s ability to repair. They have exchanged far fewer vehicles than was anticipated, somewhere around twenty, mostly jeeps and six-by-sixes.”
“I must not have gotten your report,” the G-4 said, and wrote in a wire-bound notebook.
“Okay,” the G-3 said. “Six hundred, give or take, vehicles. And it’s taken this long to move from one side of Inchon to the other?”
“They were set up for exchange, Bob,” Kennedy explained patiently. “The CO did a very good job. But we’re talking here about (a) on-loading all the vehicles, and (b) doing so according to that loading sequence schedule you sent me. That takes time.”
“Time spent here will save time when we get on Wonsan, ” the G-3 said. “Last on/first off makes sense. A lot of thought has gone into that loading sequence schedule.”
“All I’m saying, Bob, is that it takes some time to accomplish. This is not like driving these vehicles to the Battery and right onto the Staten Island Ferry. They have to be sorted at the wharf according to what goes on first.”
“I can do without the sarcasm, thank you very much, Howard,” the G-3 said coldly.
“I don’t think Howard was being sarcastic, Bob,” the chief of staff said.
Colonel Kennedy thought: That either got me off the hook or sunk me deeper in the deep shit.
“We’re going to need those vehicles at Inchon,” the G-4 said. “It seems pretty obvious to me that a replacement of only twenty vehicles means that a good deal more are on the edge of needing replacement, and even more will be needing replacement after we get them ashore at Wonsan. I’d really like to see these vehicles moved up—as far up as possible—on the off-loading schedule.”
“Gerry’s got a point, Bob,” the chief of staff said.
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“The general would be very unhappy if our dash for the Chinese border was delayed by broken-down trucks,” the chief of staff said. “I don’t want that to happen.”
“I’ll review the off-loading schedule and get you my suggested changes,” the G-3 said.
“Great! And, just to satisfy my general curiosity, Howard, how is this vehicle exchange company fixed for tank retrievers and wreckers?”
“I believe there are twenty wreckers and fifteen tank retrievers, ” Kennedy said.
“Bob, make sure that when you review your on-/off-loading schedule that some wreckers—a half a dozen, anyway—and, say, five tank retrievers are near the head of the line,” the chief of staff ordered.
“Even if that means off-loading them if they’ve already been on-loaded?” Kennedy asked.
The chief of staff thought that over for ten seconds.
“Yeah, Howard, even if it comes down to that. And come see me, please, after you’ve had a chance to see how things are going down there.”
“Right,” Colonel Kennedy said.
[FOUR]
WHARF 3 INCHON, SOUTH KOREA 1130 11 OCTOBER 1950
The Waterman Steamship Line freighter Captain J.C. Buffett was tied up to Wharf 3 when Colonel Kennedy drove up to the wharf. In bumper-to-bumper lines parallel to the ship were the vehicles of the 8023d Transportation Company (Depot, Forward) waiting to be loaded.
Halfway down the lines, Kennedy touched the arm of his jeep driver and ordered, “Stop here, Tom.”
He got out of the jeep and walked down the line of vehicles, looking carefully at each one. He was pleased with what he saw and the few truck tires he kicked. All the vehicles seemed ready for duty.
But when he got close to the end of the line, and the ship itself, he saw something that pleased him not at all.
A squat, ruddy-faced, middle-aged sailor was standing on the wharf. He held both hands extended before him, palms up.
Kennedy knew what he was doing, signaling the operators of the crane and winch operators on the ship as they prepared to load a vehicle aboard. Two things annoyed Colonel Kennedy: first, that an ordinary seaman, rather than an officer, was supervising the operation, and second, that the vehicle about to be loaded aboard the Captain J.C. Buffett was a heavy-duty wrecker.
He didn’t have the revised on-/off-loading schedule yet, but the chief of staff had made it very clear that the first vehicles he wanted unloaded at Wonsan were heavy-duty wreckers and tank retriever vehicles. That meant they would have to be loaded last, so they could be unloaded first.
He walked up to the seaman on the wharf who was directing the boom and winch operators.
“Excuse me,” he said.
“Not now, buddy. Can’t you see I’m working?”
With slow and gentle, even graceful, movements the seaman signaled the winch operators on the deck of the Captain J.C. Buffett to b
egin to very slowly haul aboard what the White Manufacturing Company called a Wrecker, Special, Heavy Duty and the U.S. Army called a Vehicle, Heavy Vehicle Recovery 6 × 6 Mark III A2.
The Army and the White Manufacturing Company were agreed that the truck was heavy. It had been heavy when built for civilian use, designed to be able to pick up a broken-down tractor for eighteen-wheeler rigs. The Army had demanded a number of modifications to the basic design. The front (steering) wheels of the basic model had not been powered. The Army demanded that their version have all-wheel drive. The frame and body had been reinforced to take both the weight of the more powerful lifting arm and the additional weight it was intended to lift. And there were lifting hooks welded to the frame in places determined to be the best places to put them so the weight would be evenly distributed when it had to be loaded aboard a ship.
There was the whining hum of an electric motor and the limp cables attached to the lifting hooks on the front of the wrecker grew taut, and then the hum of another electric motor and the cables attached three quarters of the way down the frame began to draw taut.
Well, screw you, Colonel Kennedy thought, just as soon as you get that wrecker loaded aboard, at least just as soon as I can have a word with the captain, you’ll just have to take it back off.
Kennedy saw Captain Francis P. MacNamara, commanding officer of the 8023d Transportation Company (Depot, Forward), standing by his jeep on the other side of the seaman supervising the loading and walked over to him.
MacNamara saluted.
“Good afternoon, sir,” he said.
“How are you, MacNamara?” Kennedy replied.
“We’ve just started to load, sir,” MacNamara said. “I thought it best to arrange the vehicles so they could be loaded according to the last on/first off schedule before we actually started the procedure.”
“Good thinking, MacNamara,” Kennedy said. “There’s been some changes to that schedule. I’ll want to talk to you about them, but I think we might as well wait until we can talk to the captain at the same time.”
“Yes, sir.”
There was a screeching sound of unknown origin, which lasted about fifteen seconds, then the sound of the seaman’s voice.
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