Pickering immediately flew down to meet him, not sure in his own mind if he was doing so in his official role as observer for Frank Knox, or as a member (if unofficial) of Mac Arthur’s palace guard.
Once he saw Pickering’s orders, Admiral Ghormley had no choice but to brief him on his concept of the war, and on his planning. But he went further than paying appropriate respect to an officer wrapped in the aura of a personal representative of the Secretary of the Navy required.
There were several reasons for this. For one, they immediately liked each other. Over lunch, Ghormley drew out of Pickering the story of how he had worked his way up from apprentice seaman in the deck department to his "Any Ocean, Any Tonnage" master’s ticket. And it quickly became clear that the two of them were not an admiral and a civilian in a captain’s uniform, but that they were two men who had known the responsibility of the bridge in a storm.
And, too, Ghormley had come to the South Pacific almost directly from London. Thus he had not spent enough time in either Washington or Pearl Harbor to become infected with the parochial virus that caused others of his rank to feel that the war in the Pacific had to be fought and won by the Navy alone- perhaps as the only way to overcome the shame of Pearl Harbor.
And to Pickering’s pleased surprise, Ghormley had independently come up with a strategy that was very much like Mac-Arthur’s. He saw the Japanese base at Rabaul on New Britain as a likely and logical target for the immediate future. He thought it would be a very reasonable expenditure of assets to assault New Britain amphibiously with the 1stMarine Division, and, once the beachhead was secure, to turn the battle over to the Army’s 32ndand 41stInfantry Divisions.
Pickering then informed Admiral Ghormley that he was privy to General MacArthur’s thinking, and that the two of them were in essential agreement. He made this admission after briefly considering that not only was it none of Ghormley’s business, but that telling Ghormley such things would enrage both Frank Knox and Douglas MacArthur if they learned of it, as they almost certainly would.
Which was to say, of course, that MacArthur and Ghormley both disagreed with Admiral Ernest King’s proposed plans for immediate action: These called for a Navy attack under Admiral Nimitz on both the Santa Cruz and Solomon Islands, while MacArthur launched a diversionary attack on the East Indies.
When Pickering returned to Brisbane, he dropped the other shoe (after one of MacArthur’s private dinners) and informed MacArthur of Ghormley’s ideas for the most efficient prosecution of the war. Lengthy "independent" cables then went from Ghormley (to Admiral King, Chief of Naval Operations) and MacArthur (to General Marshall, Chief of Staff of the Army). These strenuously urged an attack to retake Rabaul as the first major counterattack of the war.
General Marshall cabled MacArthur that he fully agreed Rabaul should be the first target, and that he would make the case for that before the Joint Chiefs of Staff.
Admiral King, however, not only flatly disagreed with that, but was so sure that his position would prevail when the final decision was made by the Joint Chiefs of Staff that he "unofficially" alerted Nimitz, who in turn "unofficially" alerted Ghormley, that a Navy force, with or without MacArthur’s support, would attack the Solomons as soon as possible-probably within a month or six weeks.
"Presuming" that Nimitz certainly would have told MacArthur of the Navy’s plans, Ghormley discussed (by memoranda, hand-carried by officer courier) Nimitz’s alert with MacArthur. This, of course, resulted in more emphatic cables from MacArthur to Marshall. It was still possible that the Joint Chiefs of Staff would decide against King and in favor of striking at Rabaul first.
The decision of the Joint Chiefs of Staff was not yet made, although it was clear that it would have to be made in the next few days.
Pickering had briefed Banning on his meetings with Ghormley and all that had happened after that. He now wondered if that had been a serious mistake. Had Banning told his old friend, Goettge, the First Division G-2, any-or all-of what Pickering had told him in confidence?
"Captain Pickering," Colonel Goettge said, "it’s been my experience that when you have something delicate to say, you almost always get yourself in deeper trouble when you pussyfoot around it."
"Mine, too," Pickering replied. "What’s on your mind?"
"I can only hope this won’t leave this room-"
"You’re pussyfooting," Pickering interrupted.
"The word in the 1stDivision is that General MacArthur’s attitude toward the Navy generally, and the Marine Corps in particular, is ‘Fuck you,’" Goettge said.
"That’s unfortunate," Pickering said.
"There’s a story going around that he wouldn’t give the 4thMarines a Presidential Unit Citation in the Philippines because ‘the Marines already get enough publicity,’ " Goettge said.
"I’m afraid that’s true," Pickering said. "But I’m also sure that he made that decision under a hell of a strain, and that he now regrets it. MacArthur is a very complex character."
"General Vandergrift thinks we will invade the Solomons. Or at least two of the Solomon Islands, Tulagi and Guadalcanal," Goettge said.
"Where did he get that?" Pickering said.
"I don’t know, Sir."
Pickering looked at Banning. Banning just perceptibly shook his head, meaning I didn‘t tell him.
I should have known that,Pickering thought. Why the hell did I question Banning’s integrity?
"My job, therefore," Colonel Goettge said, "is to gather as much intelligence about Guadalcanal and Tulagi as I possibly can. Phrased as delicately as I can, there is some doubt in General Vandergrift’s mind-and in mine-that, without a friend in court, so to speak, I won’t be able to get much from General Willoughby when I go to see him tomorrow."
My God,Pickering thought, sad and disgusted, has it gone that far?
"And you think I could be your ‘friend at court’?"
"Yes, Sir, that’s about it."
"It’s all over Washington, Flem," Jake Dillon said, "that you and Dugout Doug have become asshole buddies."
A wave of rage swept through Fleming Pickering. It was a long moment before he trusted himself to speak.
"Jake, old friends or not," he said finally, calmly, "if you ever refer to MacArthur in those terms again, I’ll bring you up on charges myself." But then his tone turned furious as anger overwhelmed him: "Goddamn you, you ignorant sonofabitch! General Willoughby-who is a fine officer despite the contempt in which you, Goettge, and others seem to hold him-told me that on Bataan, MacArthur was often so close to the lines that there was genuine concern that he would be captured by Japanese infantry patrols. And on Corregidor they couldn’t get him to go into the goddamned tunnel when the Japs were shelling! Who the fuck do you think you are to call him ‘Dugout Doug’?"
"Sorry," Dillon said.
"You fucking well should be sorry!" Pickering flared. "Stick to being a goddamned press agent, you miserable pimple on a Marine’s ass, and keep your fucking mouth shut when you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about!"
There was silence in the room.
Pickering looked at them, the rage finally subsiding. Jake Dillon looked crushed. Colonel Goettge looked painfully uncomfortable. Ed Banning was . . .
The sonofabitch is smiling!
"You are amused, Major Banning?" Pickering asked icily.
"Sir, I think Major Dillon was way out of line," Banning said. "But, Sir, I was amused. I was thinking, ‘You can take the boy out of the Marines, but you can’t take the Marines out of the boy.’ I was thinking, Sir, that you sounded much more like a Marine corporal than like the personal representative of the Secretary of the Navy. You did that splendidly, Sir."
"Christ, Flem," Jake Dillon said. "I just didn’t know ... If I knew what you thought of him . . ."
"Jake," Pickering said. "Just shut up."
"Yes, Sir," Dillon said.
"Do something useful. Make us a drink."
"Would it be better if I just le
ft, Sir?" Colonel Goettge asked.
"No. Of course not. I’m going to get on the phone and ask General Willoughby out here for dinner. I’m going to tell him that you’re an old friend of mine. If he comes, fine. If he doesn’t, at least he’ll know who you are when I take you in tomorrow morning to see him."
"Sir," Banning said, "I thought it would be a good idea to put Colonel Goettge in touch with the Coastwatchers-"
"Absolutely!"
"To that end, Sir, I asked Commander Feldt-he’s in town-"
"I know," Pickering interrupted.
"-and Lieutenant Donnelly to dinner."
"Good."
"He’s bringing Yeoman Farnsworth with him," Banning said.
"It was my idea, Sir. I thought it would be nice to radio Lieutenant Howard and Sergeant Koffler that we had dinner with their girls. I asked Ensign Cotter, too."
"If General Willoughby is free to have dinner with us, Ed, I can’t imagine that he would object to sharing the table with two pretty girls. God knows, there’s none around the mess in the Menzies."
Chapter Fourteen
(One)
TOP SECRET
Eyes Only-The Secretary of the Navy
DUPLICATION FORBIDDEN
ORIGINAL TO BE DESTROYED AFTER ENCRYPTION AND TRANSMITTAL TO SECNAVY
Water Lily Cottage
Manchester Avenue
Brisbane, Australia
Tuesday, 21 July 1942
Dear Frank:
I ‘m not sure if it was really necessary, but the emperor decided to move the court; and so here, after an enormous logistical effort, we are. It is (MacA.‘s stated reason for the move) "1,185 miles closer to the front lines. "
El Supremo’ s Headquarters are in a modern office building, formerly occupied by an insurance company. MacA. has a rather elegant office on the eighth floor (of nine). I am down the corridor, and was surprised to learn that General Sutherland himself assigned me my office. I would have wagered he would put me in the basement, or left me in Melbourne.
MacA. and family, and the senior officers, are living in Lennon’ s Hotel, which is a rambling, graceful old Victorian hostelry that reminds me of the place the Southern Pacific railroad used to operate in Yellowstone Park. This time I was assigned quarters appropriate to my rank: that is to say, sharing a two-room suite with an Army Ordnance Corps colonel. Because the Colonel is portly, mustached, and almost certainly snores, and because I wanted a place affording some privacy, and because I didn’t think I should permit anyone in Supreme Headquarters to tell me to do anything, I have taken a small cottage near the (unfortunately closed for the duration) Doomben Race Track, where this is written.
It should go without saying that I think the JCS decision of 2 July to invade the Solomons was wrong. I have the somewhat nasty suspicion that it was based on Roosevelt’s awe of King, and his dislike of MacA., rather than for any strategic purpose.
The night before (1 July) I had dinner with a colonel named Goettge, who is the First Marine Division G-2. There was no question in his mind how the JCS was going to decide the issue. I found that rather disturbing, as theoretically it was still under consideration. He was in with MacA.’s intelligence people, getting what they had on Tulagi and Guadalcanal when the JCS cable ordering Operation PESTILENCE came in.
He tells me-and I believe-that it is going to be one hell of a job getting the 1stMarines ready to make an amphibious landing in five weeks, including, of course, the rehearsal operation in the Fiji Islands.
Ghormley has requested that the 2ndMarines, of the 2ndMarine Division, be combat-loaded at San Diego. The 5thMarines werenot combat-loaded, which means that they had to unload everything onto the docks, Aotea Quay, at Wellington, sort it out, and then reload it, so that it meets the needs of an amphibious landing force. That’s what they are now doing; and according to a friend of mine in the 5thMarines, it is an indescribable mess, with cans spilling out of ordinary cardboard boxes, and so on.
The problem is compounded by the dock workers, a surly socialist bunch who, I suspect, would rather see the Japs in New Zealand than work overtime or over a weekend. I’m sure that the Marines and Navy people here have been raising hell about it with port people in America, but if you could add your weight to getting somethingdone about it, your effort would be worthwhile.
On the Fourth of July, we learned from Coastwatchers that the Japanese have started construction of an airfield on Guadalcanal. That’s frightening. Both MacA. and Ghormley are fully aware of the implications of an air base there, but they both, separately, insist that the Guadalcanal operation should not be launched until we are prepared to do it properly. It is not pleasant to consider the ramifications of a failed amphibious invasion.
That opinion is obviously not shared by the JCS. I don’ t know how Ghormley took it in Auckland, but I was with MacA. when a copy of the JCS cable of 10 July ordering Ghormley to "seize Guadalcanal and Tulagi at once" reached here. He thinks, to put it kindly, it was a serious error in judgment.
It wasn’t until the next day (11 July) that the other infantry regiment (the 1stMarines) and the artillery (11th) of the 1stMarine Division reached Wellington, N.Z. Now they are expected to unload, sort, and combat-load their equipment and otherwise get set for an amphibious landing in twenty days.
The same day, as you know, we learned that Imperial Japanese Headquarters has called off its plans to seize Midway, New Caledonia, and Samoa. Under those circumstances, no one here can see the need for "immediately" landing at Guadalcanal.
Last Thursday (16 July), a courier brought a copy of Ghormley’s operation plan (OPPLAN 1-42). There are three phases: a rehearsal in the Fiji Islands; the invasion of Guadalcanal and Tulagi; and the occupation of Ndeni Island in the Santa Cruz Islands. MacA.‘s reaction to it was that it is as good as it could be expected to be, given the circumstances.
MacA. made B-17 aircraft available to the 1stMarine Division for reconnaissance , and they flew over both Guadalcanal and Tulagi on Friday. On Saturday we learned that the aerial photographs taken differ greatly from the maps already issued-and there is simply no time to print and issue corrected ones.
I’m going to leave here first thing in the morning for New Zealand, and from there will join the rehearsal in the Fijis. I don’t know what good, if any at all, I can do anyone. But obviously I am doing no one any good here.
Respectfully,
Fleming Pickering, Captain, USNR
top secret
(Two)
Supreme Headquarters
Southwest Pacific Area
Brisbane, Australia
1705 Hours 21 July 1942
It was the first time Pickering had been to the Cryptology Room in Brisbane. He found it in the basement, installed in a vault that had held the important records of the evicted insurance company. There was a new security system, too, now run by military policemen wearing white puttees, pistol belts, and shiny steel helmets. The security in Melbourne had been a couple of noncoms armed with Thompson submachine guns, slouched on chairs. They had come to know Captain Fleming Pickering and had habitually waved him inside. But the MPs here not only didn’t know who he was, but somewhat smugly told him that he was not on the "authorized-access list."
Finally, reluctantly, they summoned Lieutenant Pluto Hon to the steel door, and he arranged, not easily, to have Pickering passed inside.
Hon waved Pickering into a chair, and then typed Pickering’s letter to Navy Secretary Frank Knox onto a machine that looked much like (and was a derivative of) a teletype machine. It produced a narrow tape, like a stock-market ticker tape, spitting it out of the left side of the machine. Hon ripped it off, and then fed the end of the tape into the cryptographic machine itself. Wheels began to whir and click, and there was the sound of keys hitting paper. Finally, out of the other end of the machine came another long strip of tape.
When that process was done, Lieutenant Hon took that strip of paper and fed it into the first machine. There was the sound
of more typewriter keys, and the now-encrypted message appeared at the top of the machine, the way a teletype message would. But there were no words there, only a series of five-character blocks.
Hon gave his original letter and both strips of tape to Pickering; then, carrying the encrypted message, he left the vault for the radio room across the basement. Pickering followed him.
"Urgent," Hon said to the sergeant in charge. "For Navy Hawaii. Log it as my number"-he paused to consult the encrypted message-"six-six-oh-six."
Pickering and Hon watched as a radio operator, using a telegrapher’s key, sent the message to Hawaii. A few moments later there came an acknowledgment of receipt. Then Hon took the encoded message from the radio operator and handed it to Pickering.
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