The Sharp End (Raiding Forces Book 10)

by Phil Ward

  “GOLDEN FLEECE.”

  • • •

  Brigadier Raymond J. Maunsell, James “Baldie” Taylor and Colonel Bonner

  Fellers were in Colonel John Randal’s third-floor suite. Lieutenant Mandy Paige was on the desk out front since King was supposed to be on leave—he and ex-Lieutenant Billy Jack Jaxx were chatting up the two Clipper Girls who had come to the party with Red. Major the Lady Jane Seaborn arrived, uninvited.

  Col. Fellers said, “Lady Seaborn, this is a classified briefing restricted to need to know only . . .”

  Flashing her patented heart attack smile, Lady Jane said, “I have a need to know.”

  And that was that.

  Jim used Lady Jane’s unexpected arrival as an excuse to say, “Colonel Randal, may I have a word with you outside?”

  “Yes, sir,” Col. Randal said, following him out on the landing.

  “As you know, Bonner Fellers is the U.S. military attaché,” Jim said quietly, but apparently not caring that Lt. Mandy could hear.

  “Military attaché is a polite term for military spy—Bonner’s with us and we have given him unprecedented access to the intelligence side of our operations, within limits. However, we make a point of not allowing him anywhere near A-Force.

  “Under no circumstances should you ever discuss Colonel Clarke with Colonel Fellers—even after your transfer to the U.S. Army. Same thing goes for GOLDEN FLEECE and/or RED INDIAN operations.

  “You will be given verbal orders from the Field Marshal, who is the commander-in-chief of all U.S. Forces arriving in Middle East Command, to that effect.”

  “Understood, General.”

  When the two went back inside the suite, Col. Fellers said, “Shortly after the attack on Pearl Harbor, the Japanese Air Force caught most of MacArthur’s airplanes on the ground at Clark Field in the Philippines and wiped them out. There is no excuse for it. Our Air Corps had plenty of advance warning, but General Brereton chose not to disperse the airplanes for reasons of his own—the rest is history.

  “The Imperial Japanese Navy conducted an amphibious landing in the Lingayen Gulf, which we were unable to oppose for lack of an effective air force. Then, drove on Manila, captured it, routed our troops and the Philippine Army—even though we outnumbered them at least three to two—and now the Japs have us pinned on Bataan.

  “Following Plan Orange, MacArthur retreated to Corregidor where he is under incessant naval, artillery and air bombardment.

  “General MacArthur is acting on the belief that a relief force from the United States is being readied to bring in reinforcements as called for in Plan Orange, but that is wishful thinking now. There is not going to be any U.S. Navy relief convoy. MacArthur is on his own.

  “The reason we are having this conversation today is because a combined U.K./U.S. signals intelligence team is stationed on Corregidor—identical to the one you recently brought out of Singapore.

  “Colonel Randal, you are to fly to the Philippines and extract the signals people on Corregidor before the Japs conquer the fortress island. Under no circumstances are they to be allowed to fall into enemy hands—I will provide you with written orders prior to your departure to that effect.”

  R. J. said, “It is imperative this operation remain hush-hush, Colonel. MI-5 has reason to believe your mission to Singapore was compromised—the Japs were quite possibly lying in wait for your Catalina to land.”

  Col. Fellers said, “We have strong indications Rommel has a highly-placed master spy in Cairo who betrayed your mission to the Japanese in advance. Unfortunately, we have no idea who the mole might be.”

  “None of us,” Jim said, “have any desire to chance a repeat performance of what happened to you in Singapore.

  “In that case,” Col. Randal said, “keep this mission a secret. No one outside this room should have a need to know any details.”

  “You are on leave, John,” Lady Jane said, “Field Marshal Auchinleck’s orders.”

  “I spoke to the Field Marshal,” R. J. said. “Colonel Randal is cleared for the operation.”

  “In that case, I shall be flying out to the Philippines with the Raiding Forces team,” Lady Jane said.

  No one present felt like arguing with her.

  19

  ISLAND OF DOOM

  Colonel John Randal, United States Army (he, Major Travis McCloud, and Captain Billy Jack Jaxx had taken the oath of enlistment at Seaborn House), Maj. McCloud, Capt. Jaxx, Lieutenant Butch “Headhunter” Hoolihan and King were on board the Hudson flying to RAF Habbaniya. Major the Lady Jane Seaborn, Red and her two Clipper Girl girlfriends were also on the airplane, as was James “Baldie” Taylor.

  Lieutenant Pamala Plum-Martin was at the stick—once again violating her orders from Col. Randal not to fly for two weeks.

  Jim gathered everyone, to include the Clipper Girl crew, in the back of the plane where he briefed the mission. He did not bother using the standard five-paragraph format. Everybody knew the situation and the mission.

  “When we land, you will load on a British Overseas Airlines Corporation bus to make the overland trip to Lake Habbaniyah where you will immediately board a Flying Clipper 314—I shall remain at Habbaniya. All you men in the party will be incognito, wearing zippered BOAC flight suits over your uniform.

  “As soon as you are on board, the Flying Clipper will take off and fly to a lake on an island that will be known to you only as ‘Mystery Island.’ In the event anyone is captured later they will not be able to identify the location, which is, as the Americans say, ‘Top Secret.’

  “Once at Mystery Island, Colonel Randal, Captain Jaxx and King will transfer to a U.S. Navy Catalina and be flown to Corregidor, which is also known as the ‘Rock,’ arriving under cover of darkness. Upon arrival, they will be escorted to Malinta Tunnel, where General MacArthur’s HQ is located. The signals personnel to be extracted will be assembled, waiting for you at the main tunnel entrance,” Jim said.

  “Get a good head count, have each individual produce his or her photo ID, then immediately re-board the Catalina for the return flight to Mystery Island. Upon landing on the lake, the Corregidor party will transfer to the Flying Clipper, which will take off for the return flight to RAF Habbaniya.

  “With any luck, Colonel Randal, Captain Jaxx and King shall not be on the ground for more than an hour—but you all have a lot of flying ahead of you.

  “Questions . . . no?

  “In that case—Colonel Randal would like to say a few words.”

  Col. Randal said, “When my party departs for the Rock, Major McCloud will take command of those of you remaining behind on Mystery Island. In the event we do not make it back—or the Jap Air Force attacks and destroys the Flying Clipper before we do—McCloud, you will use the Top Secret credentials you have in your possession to secure other air or naval transport out of the combat area immediately.”

  Twitters the Taster had worked his magic producing counterfeit orders purporting to be from the U.S. Army Chief of Staff.

  Col. Randal continued, “In the event that’s not possible—the Japanese Army invades Mystery Island, for example—you will take Lady Jane and the Clipper Girls into the hills and hold out until rescued.

  “Lieutenant Hoolihan is junior to you, Travis, but should escape and evading become the order of the day, he’s in tactical command. Butch is the most experienced jungle fighter in Raiding Forces—that’s why he’s along. Is that clear?”

  Maj. McCloud said, “Clear, sir.”

  “I don’t expect any of that to happen,” Col. Randal said. “But it’s ‘good to have a Plan B’ . . . or in this case, ‘C.’”

  • • •

  The Flying Clipper lifted off within minutes of Colonel John Randal’s party coming aboard. Like on the flight to Singapore, the plane was virtually empty. There was the same Clipper Girl crew. The girls joked that they were getting to be old hands at flying behind enemy lines on clandestine missions.

  But it was no laughing matter
.

  Red escorted Col. Randal and Major the Lady Jane Seaborn to one of the larger suites in the tail of the plane to accommodate visitors during the flight. This one was decorated in art deco shades of turquoise and black with gold accent. There were two divan couches and a pair of plush chairs.

  Lady Jane asked Red to shut the curtains for privacy—she was not feeling sociable at the moment. In fact, she was decidedly unhappy that Col. Randal was being asked to interrupt his much-needed leave to go on a mission that could have been accomplished by someone else.

  Up front, the party was on as soon as the aircraft was airborne.

  One of the stewards in a starched white jacket arrived to take their dinner order. BOAC had failed to get the memo there was a war on. Aboard the Flying Clipper there was “one class travel.” No concessions.

  As usual, when Col. Randal was alone with Lady Jane he became super-relaxed. Sometimes they did not even talk—enjoying each other’s company being enough. He had never experienced that kind of relationship before.

  For her part, Lady Jane could entertain herself better than any woman he had ever met. She stretched out on her divan and took out her sketchpad. Col. Randal dozed off.

  When he woke up, Lady Jane showed him what she was working on—parachute wings based on a tracing she had made of a cartouche she discovered in the Great Pyramid. This redrawn pair had “Light Infantry Green” thread as per his instructions—the color matched her eyes.

  “Perfect,” Col. Randal said. “The question is, now that I’m back in the U.S. Army, will I be authorized to wear ’em?”

  “Absolutely,” Lady Jane said, “confirmed.

  “I have been researching U.S. Army uniform regulations, which are a little vague on the exact placement of qualification badges, awards and decorations. Jump Wings, designed by our friend Captain Yarbrough, are generally worn over the heart on the left side. Foreign awards and qualification badges are worn the right side of the uniform—where you will wear the Raiding Forces wings.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Col. Randal said.

  Lady Jane said, “I arranged with Bonner Fellers to have orders cut authorizing you to wear your Rangers regimental insignia as a foreign decoration.

  “Looks like this,” she said, flipping a page to a cutaway drawing of the front of a uniform. It showed “The Rangers” regimental badge with the Raiding Forces parachute wings over it on the right breast of the blouse and the silver U.S. Jump Wings on the left.

  “I like it,” Col. Randal said. Lady Jane had exquisite taste. He approved of almost everything she ever suggested. On the rare occasion when he did not—he made it a point to rethink.

  “Our British troops,” Lady Jane said, “do the exact opposite—Raiding Forces wings over their heart and U.S. Jump Wings on the right side of their uniform. Everyone wears the Raiding Forces flash on their left shoulder.”

  Lady Jane took her role as patroness of Raiding Forces seriously. Being from a military family, she knew little things like patches, badges and insignia were important to the troops.

  Col. Randal respected her for that—enough that he chose not to tease her about it, which took a great deal of restraint on his part since he teased her about nearly everything. Lady Jane enjoyed being teased—but not too hard.

  She said, “Love your U.S. Army colonel’s eagles, John.”

  • • •

  Captain Billy Jack Jaxx came back to sit with Colonel John Randal and Major the Lady Jane Seaborn. He had fast become one of her favorites. That was a good sign—Col. Randal placed a high value on her opinion of people.

  Capt. Jaxx said, “Are you sure about this promotion, Colonel?”

  “I am, Jack,” Col. Randal said. “Why do you ask?”

  “To be honest, sir,” Capt. Jaxx said, “wearing these railroad tracks, I feel like I’m going to a masquerade ball in a U.S. Army costume.”

  Col. Randal did not say so but he felt the same about his eagles.

  “Dangerously handsome, Captain Jack,” Lady Jane said, zapping him with one of her heart attack smiles. “The Tri-Delta sorority girls at the University of Texas will be impressed. I shall send a press release to the Austin newspaper as soon as we return.”

  Capt. Jaxx always had difficulty remembering to breathe around Lady Jane. He was pretty sure she knew that.

  “Lighten up, Jack,” Col. Randal said. “I never pay attention to age—ability’s all that counts. Don’t forget—I’m your CO. I don’t make mistakes.”

  “There’s always a first time, sir,” Capt. Jaxx said.

  “Given any thought to our SOLID GOLD Reaction Force?” Col. Randal asked, sticking one of Waldo’s custom-rolled cigars between his front teeth. He knew he could not smoke it—Lady Jane did not permit cigars in enclosed quarters.

  “Only that we’re going to need to be able to pick up and travel long distances fast on short notice,” Capt. Jaxx said. “There’s no telling where the 621st might turn up when it does.”

  “Keep in mind,” Col. Randal said, “we have to make it seem like an accident—fortune of war. The idea is to never let the bad guys know we were stalking Seebohm.”

  Capt. Jaxx said, “That requirement complicates planning, sir. We can’t drop by parachute right on Seebohm’s headquarters, which is the best way to travel to a distant target, get there quick and utilize the element of surprise to the max.”

  “Keep working on it, Captain,” Col. Randal said. “You’ll think of something.”

  One of the glamorous Clipper Girls came to retrieve Capt. Jaxx. He was wanted back at the party.

  “Leave the colonel and Lady Seaborn alone, Billy Jack—they have better things to do than talk to you.”

  Maj. McCloud walked back to brief Col. Randal on the volunteers that he had brought back from Ft. Benning. There had not been time before—developments had been breaking so fast.

  Before he could begin, Col. Randal said, “You’re a ringer, aren’t you, Travis?”

  “Sir?” Maj. McCloud said, caught off guard.

  “You’ve never bothered to mention where you went to college,” Col. Randal said. “What’d they offer you at Ft. Benning when you were doing your recruiting?”

  “West Point, sir,” Maj. McCloud said. “Class of ’39.”

  “Kept that under your hat.” Col. Randal pointed his cigar. “What’d they offer you, Travis?”

  “Promotion to major—command of a battalion in the 502nd, sir.”

  “You turned that down?”

  “Yes, sir,” Maj. McCloud said. “I wanted to get back to Raiding Forces. Our army is so unprepared, my guess is it’s going to do nothing but training for the better part of another year before it sees any real action.”

  “Knew you were a ringer,” Col. Randal said. “Your bosses expected you to learn everything you could from Raiding Forces, then come back and teach it at Ft. Benning—must be real disappointed in you.”

  “You sent me to recruit, sir,” Maj. McCloud said. “That’s what I did.”

  “Commendable,” Lady Jane said. “Command of a parachute battalion is a high honor to refuse, Travis.”

  “Yes, it is,” Col. Randal said. “OK, run it down, Major.”

  “Captain Duke Slater was a company commander in the 501st, then when I came out here, he took my place at the Infantry School teaching Airborne Tactics,” Maj. McCloud said. “A Virginia Military Institute man. We won the lottery when he volunteered, sir.

  “Duke can do it all.

  “Lieutenant Dan Morgan completed two years at Auburn, an OCS graduate—he’s from Delanco, Georgia, sir. Grew up in the mountains hunting and fishing. He was the 505th’s Regimental Reconnaissance Platoon Leader. They were not happy to see him go.

  “Lieutenant Richard “Dynamite Dick” Coogan—his father owns a demolitions company that specializes in taking down high-rise buildings, bridges, etc. Dick grew up around explosives. The navy offered him a direct commission in the Seabees, but he turned it down to join the paratroops as
a private, sir.

  “He was sent to OCS at Ft. Benning. There, Dick was noticed by his instructors when his class went to the demolitions range to learn the basics of military explosives. Upon graduation, Lt. Coogan was immediately assigned to the Infantry School to teach demolitions.”

  “Outstanding,” Col. Randal said. “How about the NCOs?”

  “All held positions of responsibility,” Maj. McCloud said. “Two were squad leaders in the airborne regiments, two were Black Hats at Jump School, one was an instructor on the 81mm mortar committee and one had worked for me teaching tactics at the Infantry School.”

  “Very good,” Col. Randal said. “Tended toward recruiting instructors, I see.”

  “Learned that trick from you, Colonel,” Maj. McCloud said. “In the military, the best command, lead or teach—I picked men I knew.”

  Col. Randal said, “You did well, Major.”

  “Probably not welcome back at Ft. Benning, sir,” Maj. McCloud said. “I recruited the cream of the crop.”

  Col. Randal said. “That’s too bad.”

  • • •

  The Flying Clipper splashed down in a lake at a Top-Secret base somewhere in

  the Pacific. No one believed it was really called Mystery Island. Colonel John Randal, Captain Billy Jack Jaxx and King immediately transferred to a U.S. Navy Catalina and were airborne by the time the big BOAC flying boat had been towed into a cove and covered with camouflage netting topped off with palm leaves.

  No party atmosphere on this flight. The Catalina was flying straight into harm’s way. There was no plan B for this phase of the mission.

  Col. Randal slept most of the time. Capt. Jaxx and King did the same, storing up energy for who who-knew knew-what lay ahead. Hours later, the U.S. Navy pilot came back to give a short briefing.

  “We will be landing in approximately thirty minutes, sir. It’s a little tricky. We have to put down on a narrow strip of water behind the minefield that surrounds Corregidor. And do it without the aid of landing lights.

  “The island is on blackout.

  “We will put you ashore, then immediately begin to take on fuel. Requires approximately a half half-hour to forty-five minutes. I’d like you back on board with the people you intend to pick up—ready for takeoff— by the time we’re topped off, sir.”