"I heard something about this," Banning said. "I didn't real-ize how many of them there are."
"Supporting them logistically is very difficult," Feldt went on, as if he had not heard Banning, "for several reasons. For one thing, the distances. For another, the nonavailability, except in the most extreme circumstances, of submarines and aircraft. And when aircraft and submarines are available, they are of course limited to operation on the shorelines; and my people are most often in the mountains and jungle, some distance from the shore. Landing aircraft in the interior of the islands is ninety percent of the time impossible, and in any case it would give the Japs a pretty good idea where my people are. The result is that my people are eating the food they carried with them into the jungle (if any remains), and native food, which will not support health under the circumstances they have to live under. If illness strikes, or if they accidentally break an ankle, their chances of survival are minimal."
"Christ!" Banning said.
"In addition, the humidity and other conditions tend to ren-der wireless equipment inoperable unless it is properly and con-stantly cared for. And these people are not technicians."
Banning shook his head.
"And now, Major, be good enough to tell me how you intend to help me."
"In addition to what you tell me to do," Banning said, after a moment, "money, parachutists, and radios. I might also be able to do something about aircraft priorities."
"Do you Americans really believe that money can solve any problem? I noticed you mentioned that first."
"I'm not sure about any," Banning replied. "But many? Yes, Sir, I believe that. I've got a quarter of a million dollars in a bank in Melbourne that can be used to support you, and I can get more if I need more."
"That sounds very generous."
"The Marine Corps wants access to your intelligence," Ban-ning said.
"You would have it anyway, wouldn't you, via your Navy?"
"We would like it direct," Banning said.
Feldt grunted.
"You said `parachutists'? Have you got parachutists?"
"I have one, Sir, already in Australia," Banning replied. He did not say, of course, The notion of sending Koffler off on a mis-sion like these is absurd on its face. Then he added, "I can get more in a short period of time."
"What about wireless sets? I thought you said you didn't know anything about that."
"Sir, I don't," Banning said. "But some are on the way."
"What kind?"
"Sir, I don't know. I was told `the best there is.' "
"I would like to know what kind."
"I'll find out for you," Banning said. "Just as soon as they show up. So far, the only asset I have in Australia is the money."
"And, of course, you."
"Yes, Sir. And my clerk," Banning said, and added, "He's the parachutist I mentioned. He's eighteen years old. I can't imagine sending him off to parachute onto some island. But, Sir, he knows about parachuting. He could tell us what we need, and probably what's available in the States."
Feldt either grunted or snorted, Banning wasn't sure which. Then he turned and pulled the bolt out of the eyebolt and low-ered the sheet of raw plywood so that it again covered the map.
"Tell me, Major Banning," he said, "do you have a Christian name?"
"Yes, Sir. Edward."
"And your friends call you that? Or `Ed'?"
"Ed, Sir."
"And do you drink, Ed? Wine, beer, spirits?"
"Yes, Sir. Wine, beer and spirits."
"Good. Having a Yank around here will be bad enough with-out him being a sodding teetotaler."
"May I interpret that to mean, Sir, that I may stay?"
"On condition that you break yourself of the habit of using the word `Sir.' Are you aware, Ed, that you use `Sir' in place of a comma?"
"I suppose I do."
"My Christian name is Eric," Feldt said. "But to keep things in their proper perspective around here, Ed, I think you had bet-ter call me `Commander.'"
They smiled at each other.
"Let's go drink our lunch," Feldt said. "When we've done that, we'll see what can be done about getting you and your sav-ages a place to live."
(Three)
Townesville Station
Townesville, Queensland
31 May 1942
Major Edward Banning, USMC, was on hand when his com-mand, less the rear echelon (Corporal Koffler), disembarked from the Melbourne train. USMC Special Detachment 14 de-barked after the last of the civilian and a half-dozen Australian military passengers had come down from the train to the plat-form.
The first Marine off the train was Staff Sergeant Richardson, the senior NCO, who either didn't see Major Banning or pre-tended not to. He took up a position on the platform facing the sleeper car. Then, one by one, quickly, the others filed off and formed two ranks facing Staff Sergeant Richardson. They were carrying their weapons at sling arms. Most of them had Spring-fields, but here and there was a Thompson submachine gun.
They were not, however, wearing any of their web field equip-ment, Major Banning noticed. They were freshly turned out, in sharply creased greens, their fore-and-aft caps at a proper salty angle. Two or three of them seemed a bit flushed, as if, for exam-ple, they had recently imbibed some sort of alcoholic beverage.
Staff Sergeant Richardson fell them in, put them through the dress-right-dress maneuver, and did a snappy, precise, about-face. At that point, First Lieutenant Joseph L. Howard de-scended the sleeping-car steps.
He too either did not see Major Banning or pretended not to. He marched before Staff Sergeant Richardson, who saluted him crisply.
"Sir," Staff Sergeant Richardson barked, "the detachment is formed and all present or accounted for."
Lieutenant Howard returned the salute crisply.
`Take your post, Sergeant," he ordered.
Salutes were again exchanged. Then Staff Sergeant Richard-son did a precise right-face movement, followed by several oth-ers that ultimately placed him in line with, and to the right of, the troop formation. At the same time, Lieutenant Howard did an equally precise about-face movement and stood erectly at at-tention.
Major Banning understood his role in the ceremony. He dropped his cigarette to the ground, ground his toe on it, and then marched erectly until he faced Lieutenant Howard.
Howard saluted.
"Sir," he barked, "Special Detachment 14, less the rear eche-lon, reporting for duty, Sir."
Banning returned the salute.
He looked at his men, who stood there stone-faced, even the two or three who he suspected had been at the sauce.
"At ease!"
The detachment assumed the position.
"Welcome to Townesville," Banning said. "And let me say the good news: your drill sergeants would be proud of you. You would be a credit to any parade ground."
There were smiles and chuckles.
"The bad news is that it's about a mile and a half from here to our billets, and there are no wheels."
Now there were grins on all their faces.
"May I respectfully suggest that the Major underestimates his command, Sir?" Joe Howard said.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Banning asked.
"If the Major would be good enough to accompany me, Sir?" Howard asked.
"Where?"
"To the rear of the train, Sir," Howard said.
"All right," Banning said.
"First Sergeant," Lieutenant Howard ordered formally, "take the detachment."
Staff Sergeant Richardson marched up in front again, and a final salute was exchanged.
Banning and Howard walked to the end of the train, where he stopped at a flatcar. Whatever it carried was covered with a canvas tarpaulin.
"They call these things `open goods wagons' over here, Sir," he said. "That caused a little confusion for a while. We kept ask-ing for flatcars, and they didn't know what the hell we were talk-ing about."
"What's in here? The radios?"
"I think the radios are in the last car, Sir," Howard said.
He put his fingers in his mouth and whistled shrilly, then ges-tured. Half a dozen Marines handed their weapons to the others and came trotting down the platform.
An officer and a gentleman is not supposed to whistle like that, Banning thought, so its a good thing there's nobody here but me to see it.
The Marines clambered up on the flatcar and started to re-move the tarpaulin. Large wheels were revealed.
"You stole a truck," Banning accused Howard.
"No, Sir. That truck was issued to us. It's perfectly legal."
The tarpaulin was now almost off, revealing a Studebaker stake-bodied truck. In the bed of the truck was a 1941 Stude-baker automobile. On the doors of both the truck and the car were neatly stenciled the Marine Corps emblem and the letters USMC.
"Is that the car from The Elms?" Banning asked, and then, without giving Howard a chance to reply, continued, "You sure that's not stolen, Joe?"
"I checked on it myself, Sir, when Richardson showed up with them."
"Them?"
"We have two trucks and three cars, Sir. I mean, counting the one you already had. I left that in Melbourne with Koffler. I figured you'd need it when you went back there."
Banning saw that the automobile was stuffed with duffel bags.
Well, that explains why they weren't carrying them over their shoulders when they got off the train.
"How do you propose to get that truck off the flatcar?" Ban-ning asked.
"No problem, Sir," Lieutenant Howard said.
The Marines now pulled thick planks from under the truck and placed them against the flatcar, forming a ramp. As two of the Marines loosened chains holding the truck chassis to the rail-road car, a third got behind the wheel and started the engine.
Moments later, the truck was on the platform. The planks were now moved to form a ramp so that the car could be driven off the truck. The duffel bags were taken from the car and thrown onto the truck.
As the entire process was being repeated for the second flat-car, Major Banning said to Lieutenant Howard, "Why do I have this uncomfortable feeling that I am going to end my career in Portsmouth?"
"This is all perfectly legal, Sir," Howard said. "Trust me."
"God, it better be!"
When the tarpaulin covering a third flatcar was removed, Banning walked down to see what it held. There were wooden crates, containing Hallicrafters radios, portable antennas, and generators.
Well, they're here. I hope to hell they work. I'm going to look like a fool in front of Eric Feldt if they don't.
"Let's hope at least one of them works," Banning said to Howard.
"They all work, Sir," Howard said. "Sergeant Haley and Cor-poral Koffler checked them out."
Sergeant Haley, Banning remembered, was a pudgy-faced buck sergeant, one of his three radio operators. But he also re-membered that Haley had told him he was an operator, not a technician. And Koffler? "Haley and Koffler?"
"Yes, Sir. When I got to The Elms, I saw Koffler had set up one of the radios and an antenna and some batteries and was listening to KYW in Honolulu. I had them check out the others as they came in to make sure they worked. I figured if they didn't, it would be easier to get them fixed in Melbourne than here. A couple of them needed a little work, but they're all work-ing now."
"Haley fixed them?"
"No. Koffler. Haley had never seen one of them before."
"And Koffler had?".
"No. But... it took me a while to figure this out, Major. Haley went to Radio School. He knows about Marine and Navy radios. Koffler was a radio amateur, what they call a ham."
"He told me," Banning interrupted. "So what?"
"So he can apparently make a radio from parts. He under-stands what makes them work. Even Haley was impressed. There's more to Koffler than meets the eye."
"That wouldn't be hard," Banning said dryly, then asked, "How many radio sets are there?"
"Eight, Sir. I brought seven of them up here. Koffler rigged one of them so we can talk to Melbourne as soon as we get one set up here."
Another sergeant, whose name, after a moment, Banning re-membered was Solinski, marched happily up and saluted.
"Sir, the convoy is formed. If the Major would care to enter his staff car?"
"Thank you, Sergeant," Banning said. "Nice work, getting this all organized so quickly."
"Thank you, Sir," Sergeant Solinski said, pleased.
Lieutenant Commander Feldt had arranged for USMC Spe-cial Detachment 14 to take over a two-story, tin-roofed frame building that had belonged to the now-defunct Townesville Young Men's Christian Association. In addition to a small suite of offices, there was a room with a billiards table, as well as six small bedrooms, a small gymnasium with a rusty collection of weightlifting machines, and a reception room with a soft-drink bar that Banning suspected was about to be converted to a sa-loon.
Banning had prepared notes for the little speech he intended to deliver to his men, but he decided that would have to wait until he got the full story of the cars and trucks. The speech mostly dealt with the importance of getting along with the Aussies, and included the details of their rationing (with the Aussies) and other housekeeping information. The story of the cars and trucks was obviously more important.
He called Lieutenant Howard and Staff Sergeant Richardson into what would serve as the detachment office and told Howard to close the door.
"I want to know about the trucks and cars," he said. "And I want the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
"Yes, Sir," Staff Sergeant Richardson said. "Well, Sir, Lieu-tenant Howard sent me and Sergeant Jenkins on the next plane. After yours and Koffler's. Koffler met us on the dock, with the Studebaker, and drove us out to The Elms. I asked him where he got the car. He said he didn't know where it had come from."
"Captain Pickering arranged for it. He got it from a Navy depot."
"Yes, Sir. But Koffler didn't know that. So I told him to ask somebody. He asked an Aussie lady sailor he'd met, and she told him there was a Navy depot. A U.S. Navy depot. So I went down there. It's not a regular depot. What I found out is that it's a place they store stuff that was supposed to go China, but didn't make it."
"Go over that again?"
"Well, Sir. There was a lot of stuff being shipped to China. What they call Lend-Lease. When they couldn't get in there, they went on to Australia and just unloaded the stuff. The only Americans around was a small Corps of Civil Engineers depot, and they suddenly had all this stuffed dumped in their laps. They didn't know what the hell to do with it all. One of the ships was full of Studebakers, cars and trucks."
"I see. And you stole the ones you brought with you?"
"No, Sir. I didn't have to. I just had Koffler drive me down there, and I told an officer I found that I had come for the rest of our vehicles. He said he couldn't issue any of what he had without authority, and I told him we had the authority, and there was our Studebaker, to prove it. He asked me who we worked for, and since you weren't in Melbourne, I told him this Captain Pickering. Lieutenant Howard gave me his name in Ha-waii, in case we needed it."
"And this officer called Captain Pickering?"
"Yes, Sir. And Captain Pickering, I guess, told him it was all right. He asked me how many trucks I wanted, and how many cars, and I said two, and he said, `All right, but you're going to have to get them running yourself, I don't have anybody to help you.' I think I could have gotten a dozen of each, if I had been smart enough to ask for them."
"I think you've done very well, Sergeant Richardson," Ban-ning said. "Thank you."
(Four)
Air Transport Office
Royal Naval Station, Melbourne
1 June 1942
Lieutenant Vincent F. Donnelly, RAN, said, "Yes, Sir. Right away," and put the telephone handset back in its cradle.
He looked across the crowded office to where Yeoman Third Class Daphne Farnswort
h, her lower lip clipped under her teeth in concentration, was filling out one more sodding form on her typewriter.
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