“Good to see you, Fritz,” Haughton said.
"Little wet outside? Would a cup of coffee be welcome? Or something stronger?”
“Coffee, please.”
Banning turned and went down the corridor, obviously in search of coffee. Haughton found the key to his handcuff, and with some difficulty managed to detach himself from the briefcase. Then he worked the combination lock of the briefcase and took from it a manila folder, on which was stamped in inch-high red letters TOP SECRET. He handed it to Rickabee as Banning returned, carrying three steaming china mugs by their handles.
“General Pickering has been heard from,” Haughton said, handing the file to Rickabee.
Ten days before, Pickering had left his hospital bed—pre—maturely, Haughton thought—to undertake a personal mission for the President: Colonel Donovan, the head of OSS, had complained to the President that General Douglas MacArthur had flatly refused to even talk to the man Donovan had sent to run the OSS operation in the Pacific. And Roosevelt had decided that if anyone could solicit MacArthur’s cooperation, it was Brigadier General Fleming W. Pickering. The documents in the TOP SECRET folder Haughton had brought to Rickabee were the first word anyone had heard from Pickering since he had flown back to the Far East.
Rickabee slumped back in his chair and started to read the first of the two messages.
TOP SECRET
EYES ONLY-THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY
DUPLICATION FORBIDDEN
ORIGINAL TO BE DESTROYED AFTER ENCRYPTION
AND TRANSMITTAL TO SECNAV
BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA
SATURDAY 17 OCTOBER 1942
DEAR FRANK:
I ARRIVED HERE WITHOUT INCIDENT FROM PEARL HARBOR. PRESUMABLY, MAJOR ED BANNING IS BY NOW IN WASHINGTON AND YOU HAVE HAD A CHANCE TO HEAR WHAT HE HAD TO SAY, AND TO HAVE HAD A LOOK AT THE PHOTOGRAPHS AND FILM.
WITHIN AN HOUR OF WHAT I THOUGHT WAS MY UNHERALDED ARRIVAL, I WAS SUMMONED TO A PRIVATE-REALLY PRIVATE, ONLY EL SUPREMO AND ME-LUNCHEON. HE ALSO HAD A SKEWERED IDEA WHY I WAS SENT HERE. HE THOUGHT I WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE PEACE BETWEEN HIM AND ADMIRAL NIMITZ. HE ASSURED ME THAT HE AND NIMITZ ARE GREAT PALS, WHICH I THINK, AFTER TALKING WITH NIMITZ AT PEARL HARBOR, IS ALMOST TRUE.
WHEN I BROUGHT UP DONOVAN’S OSS PEOPLE, A WALL CAME DOWN. HE TELLS ME HE HAS NO INTENTION OF LETTING “DONOVAN GET HIS CAMEL’S NOSE UNDER THE TENT” AND VOLUNTEERED THAT NIMITZ FEELS THE SAME WAY. I ALSO SUSPECT THIS IS TRUE. I WILL KEEP TRYING, OF COURSE, BOTH BECAUSE I CONSIDER MYSELF UNDER ORDERS TO DO SO, AND BECAUSE I THINK THAT MACA IS WRONG AND DONOVAN’S PEOPLE WOULD BE VERY USEFUL, BUT I DON’T THINK I WILL BE SUCCESSFUL.
THE BEST INFORMATION HERE, WHICH I PRESUME YOU WILL ALSO HAVE SEEN BY NOW, IS THAT THE JAPANESE WILL LAUNCH THEIR ATTACK TOMORROW.
ADMIRAL GHORMLEY SENT TWO RADIOS (16 AND 17 OCTOBER) SAYING HIS FORCES ARE “TOTALLY INADEQUATE” TO RESIST A MAJOR JAPANESE ATTACK, AND MAKING WHAT SEEMS TO ME UNREASONABLE DEMANDS ON AVAILABLE NAVAL AND AVIATION RESOURCES. I DETECTED A CERTAIN LACK OF CONFIDENCE IN HIM ON MACA’S PART. I HAVE NO OPINION, AND CERTAINLY WOULD MAKE NO RECOMMENDATIONS VIS-À-VIS GHORMLEY IF I HAD ONE, BUT THOUGHT I SHOULD PASS THIS ON.
A PROBLEM HERE, WHICH WILL CERTAINLY GROW, IS IN THE JUNIOR (VERY JUNIOR) RANK OF LIEUTENANT HON SONG DO, THE ARMY CRYPTOGRAPHER/ANALYST, WHOM A HORDE OF ARMY AND MARINE COLONELS AND NAVY CAPTAINS, WHO AREN’T DOING ANYTHING NEARLY SO IMPORTANT, THINK OF AS ... A FIRST LIEUTENANT. IS THERE ANYTHING YOU CAN DO TO HAVE THE ARMY PROMOTE HIM? THE SAME IS TRUE, TO A SLIGHTLY LESSER DEGREE, OF LIEUTENANT JOHN MOORE, BUT MOORE, AT LEAST (HE IS ON THE BOOKS AS MY AIDE-DE-CAMP) CAN HIDE BEHIND MY SKIRTS. AS FAR AS ANYONE BUT MACA AND WILLOUGHBY KNOW, HON IS JUST ONE MORE CODE-MACHINE LIEUTENANT WORKING IN THE APTLY NAMED DUNGEON IN MACA’S HEADQUARTERS BASEMENT.
FINALLY, MACA FIRMLY SUGGESTED THAT I DECORATE LIEUTENANT JOE HOWARD AND SERGEANT STEVEN KOFFLER, WHOM WE TOOK OFF BUKA. GOD KNOWS, THEY DESERVE A MEDAL FOR WHAT THEY DID ... THEY MET ME AT THE AIRPLANE, AND THEY LOOK LIKE THOSE PHOTOGRAPHS IN LIFE MAGAZINE OF STARVING RUSSIAN PRISONERS ON THE EASTERN FRONT ... BUT I DON’T KNOW HOW TO GO ABOUT THIS. PLEASE ADVISE.
MORE SOON.
BEST REGARDS,
FLEMING PICKERING, BRIGADIER GENERAL, USMCR
TOP SECRET
Haughton watched Rickabee’s face as he very carefully read the radioteletype message and then handed it to Banning.
Technically, Haughton thought, not unpleasantly, but simply recognizing the facts, giving that to Banning to read is a security violation. No matter what kind of a security clearance Banning has, that message, both of these messages, are Eyes Only SECNAV, and that means just what it says. If the Secretary wants to give them to someone else, that’s his business. The fact that the Secretary told me to show both radios to Rickabee doesn’t mean that Rickabee has any authority to show them to anyone else, even someone like Banning.
On the other hand, (a) if the Secretary knew about it, he wouldn’t say a word. He trusts Rickabee’s judgment. (b) Banning isn’t just an ordinary Marine Corps major with an ordinary TOP SECRET security clearance. He’s cleared for MAGIC, and if an officer is on the MAGIC list, I can’t think of any classified material to which he is not authorized access. And (c) after Banning’s brilliant—and that’s the only word that fits, brilliant—briefing of the President, the Secretary of the Navy, and Senator Fowler on the Guadalcanal situation yesterday, he is one fair-haired boy.
And then, while Rickabee was reading the second radio and Banning was absorbing the first, Haughton had another thought, a wild thought, only peripherally connected to the first:
There are three people in this little room with MAGIC clearances. In all of the world, counting even the cryptographic officers who make the decryptions, and the analysts, there are only forty-two people on that list, as of yesterday.
What is it they say? “A secret is compromised the instant two people know about it.” That’s probably true. And MAGIC is one hell of a secret. When you have a small, but growing, capability to read your enemy’s most secret encrypted messages, the value to the war is literally beyond measure.
And to protect that secret as much as possible, you severely limit the number of people authorized access to it. Some people, obviously, have to be on it. The President; Admiral Leahy, the President’s Chief of Staff; the Secretary, and his Army counterpart, the Secretary of War; Admiral Nimitz as CINCPAC; General MacArthur as Supreme Commander SWPOA; and the underlings—those who broke, and are breaking, the codes in Hawaii; the analysts; the cryptographic officers who, using a special code, encrypt the decrypted messages for transmission to Washington and Brisbane; the cryptographic officers and analysts here and in Brisbane; and a very few others—MacArthur’s G-2 in Brisbane, Nimitz’s Intelligence Officer in Pearl Harbor, and Captain David Haughton, Colonel F. L Rickabee, and Major Edward F. Banning here. We three underlings have to be on the list because we can’t do our jobs without knowing about-it. And, of course, Brigadier General Fleming Pickering, for the same reason.
When I read—when was that, a month ago, two?—about the security arrangements for the MAGIC people in Hawaii, I thought it made sense not to permit them to leave CINCPAC without an armed escort. The Japanese might not know about MAGIC, but they almost certainly knew something highly classified was going on.
On one level, the idea of the Japanese kidnapping Naval officers in Hawaii to see what they knew seemed fantastic. But so did the idea of the Japanese launching an aerial attack on Pearl Harbor on 7 December. A lot of unthinkable things happens in war, and even more in Intelligence.
Nimitz was right to provide his MAGIC people with that kind of security. It just made sense. It also made sense to provide Pickering, over his objections, with a Marine bodyguard, an ex-St. Louis police detective. And the brass, of course, were routinely protected. The only people on the MAGIC list who are not protected are Rickabee, Banning, and me.
God, is that why Rickabee is carrying that gun?
Does Banning carry one?
“Banning, may I ask you a question?”
Banning looked up from the radio message.
“Certainly, Sir.”
“Everybody else around here is armed to the teeth except you,” Haughton said, making it a question.
Banning smiled, stood up, turned around, and hoisted the skirt of his tunic. A 1911A1 .45 Colt was in a skeleton holster in the small of his back.
“In maintaining the hoary traditions of The Corps, Captain,” Banning said, as he sat down again. “We of Management Analysis are always prepared to repel boarders.”
Haughton laughed, somewhat nervously.
My God, I’m right! The reason these two don’t have an armed bodyguard with them is that they consider themselves competent to protect themselves. But the point is they do think there is a sufficient risk that going armed is necessary —even here in Washington.
Does that mean I should get myself a pistol? Christ, I’ve never been able to hit the broad side of a barn from ten feet with a .45!
Rickabee, who was not known for his genial personality or for his sense of humor, looked up from his radio and glared at both of them.
A moment later, he finished reading his radio and handed it to Banning. Banning handed him the first radio message, and Rickabee handed it to Haughton, who replaced it in the TOP SECRET folder.
Banning started to read the second radio from General Pickering:TOP SECRET
EYES ONLY-CAPTAIN DAVID HAUGHTON, USN OFFICE OF THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY
DUPLICATION FORBIDDEN
ORIGINAL TO BE DESTROYED AFTER ENCRYPTION
AND TRANSMITTAL
FOR COLONEL F. L. RICKABEE
USMC OFFICE OF MANAGEMENT ANALYSIS
BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA
SATURDAY 17 OCTOBER 1942
DEAR FRITZ:
AT LUNCH WITH MACA YESTERDAY, HE JUSTIFIED HIS SNUBBING OF DONOVAN’S PEOPLE HERE BY SAYING THAT HE HAS A GUERRILLA OPERATION UP AND RUNNING IN THE PHILIPPINES.
AT COCKTAILS-BEFORE-DINNER EARLIER TONIGHT, I TRIED TO PUMP GENERAL WILLOUGHBY ABOUT THIS, AND GOT A VERY COLD SHOULDER; HE MADE IT PLAIN THAT ANY GUERRILLA ACTIVITY GOING ON THERE IS INSIGNIFICANT. AFTER DINNER, I GOT WITH LT COL PHILIP DEPRESS-HE IS THE OFFICER COURIER YOU BROUGHT TO WALTER REED HOSPITAL TO SEE ME WHEN HE HAD A LETTER FROM MACA FOR ME. HE’S A HELL OF A SOLDIER WHO SOMEHOW GOT OUT OF THE PHILIPPINES BEFORE THEY FELL.
AFTER FEEDING HIM A LOT OF LIQUOR, I GOT OUT OF HIM THIS VERSION: AN ARMY RESERVE CAPTAIN NAMED WENDELL FERTIG REFUSED TO SURRENDER AND WENT INTO THE HILLS OF MINDANAO WHERE HE GATHERED AROUND HIM A GROUP OF OTHERS, INCLUDING A NUMBER OF MARINES FROM THE 4TH MARINES WHO ESCAPED FROM LUZON AND CORREGIDOR, AND STARTED TO SET UP A GUERRILLA OPERATION.
HE HAS PROMOTED HIMSELF TO BRIGADIER GENERAL, AND APPOINTED HIMSELF “COMMANDING GENERAL, US FORCES IN THE PHILIPPINES.” I UNDERSTAND (AND SO DOES PHIL DEPRESS) WHY HE DID THIS. THE FILIPINOS WOULD PAY ABSOLUTELY NO ATTENTION TO A LOWLY CAPTAIN. THIS HAS, OF COURSE, ENRAGED THE RANK-CONSCIOUS PALACE GUARD HERE AT THE PALACE. BUT FROM WHAT DEPRESS TELLS ME, FERTIG HAS A LOT OF POTENTIAL.
SEE WHAT YOU CAN FIND OUT, AND ADVISE ME. AND TELL ME IF I’M WRONG IN THINKING THAT IF THERE ARE MARINES WITH FERTIG, THEN IT BECOMES OUR BUSINESS.
FINALLY, WITH ME HERE, MOORE, WHO IS ON THE BOOKS AS MY AIDE-DE-CAMP, IS GOING TO RAISE QUESTIONS IF HE SPENDS MOST OF HIS TIME, AS HE HAS TO, IN THE DUNGEON, INSTEAD OF HOLDING DOORS FOR ME AND SERVING MY CANAPÉS. IS THERE SOME WAY WE CAN GET SERGEANT HART A COMMISSION? HE IS, IN FAITHFUL OBEDIENCE TO WHAT I’M SURE ARE YOUR ORDERS, NEVER MORE THAN FIFTY FEET AWAY FROM ME ANYWAY.
I WOULD APPRECIATE IT IF YOU WOULD CALL MY WIFE, AND TELL HER THAT I AM SAFE ON THE BRIDGE AND CANAPE CIRCUIT IN WATER LILY COTTAGE IN BEAUTIFUL BRISBANE ON THE SEA.
REGARDS,
FLEMING PICKERING, BRIGADIER GENERAL, USMCR
TOP SECRET
When he finished reading the radio, Banning handed it back to Rickabee, who then handed it to Haughton, who replaced it in the TOP SECRET folder and then replaced the folder in his briefcase.
“The General, I surmise, is in good spirits,” Banning said. “What’s this business about guerrillas in the Philippines? I never heard anything about that before.”
“That’s one of the reasons I came over here, to discuss that with you,” Haughton said. “On 12 October, the Navy station at Mare Island answered a station that was trying to get a response from Australia. They sent a message—here it is,” he interrupted himself and handed Rickabee several sheets of paper stapled together—“encrypted on an obsolete crypto device. The Chief at Mare Island borrowed a crypto device from the Army, and came up with... what does it say? ‘Here’s the Hot Poop From The Hot Yanks, et cetera, Brigadier General Fertig.’ ”
“Captain Fertig, according to Willoughby, in Pickering’s radio,” Banning said.
“How do we know this Fertig is genuine?” Rickabee asked, adding, “How did you come by this information, David?”
Haughton expected the question, but it still embarrassed him.
“The Chief Radioman at Mare Island is a crony of my Chief,” he said. “He figured my Chief could check out Brigadier General Fertig. I didn’t—if I have to say so—know anything about this.”
“He who getteth between two Chiefs will getteth himself run over,” Banning said solemnly.
The remark produced a rare smile on Rickabee’s face, Haughton noticed.
“My Chief went to the Army and came up with a reserve officer by that name—but not a general—missing and presumed captured in the Philippines. And the vital statistics of his wife. The Mare Island Chief used the vitals to establish they were talking to Fertig.”
“Why couldn’t they get in touch with MacArthur in Australia?” Rickabee asked thoughtfully.
“At about this time,” Haughton said, “my Chief decided I could be told what had happened so far. And I ordered Mare Island to contact SWPOA and relay to them all traffic from Fertig. And I had a message sent to SWPOA confirming that, and that it was our judgment that Fertig was Fertig. SWPOA is now communicating directly with Fertig.”
“Repeat:” Rickabee said. “Why couldn’t they get in touch with MacArthur in Australia?”
“Because El Supremo, or his minions,” Banning said, somewhat nastily, “didn’t want to hear from a guerrilla leader in the Philippines after El Supremo had gone on record saying that guerrilla operations in the Philippines ‘are impossible at this time,’ end quote.”
“I think we have to proceed on that same cynical assumption,” Haughton said.
“So how are we involved?”
“The Secretary is right now with the President,” Haughton said. “He intends to tell him about Fertig. He thinks it’s good news—and God knows he needs some—that there is a guerrilla operation. Admiral Leahy will be at the meeting. The Secretary feels that the President will ask Leahy what to do about Fertig, and that Leahy will suggest that you deal with it. At least assess the situation.”
Rickabee nodded, and then pointed his finger at Banning.
“Aye, aye, Sir,” Banning said, acknowledging that the responsibility had just been delegated.
He wondered how that was going to affect the week off he had been promised. A clear image of Carolyn fastening her brassiere came into his mind.
“After you get back from your week off,” Rickabee said.
Christ, is he reading my mind?
“Aye, aye, Sir.”
VI
[ONE]
The White House
Washington, D.C.
1115 Hours 17 October 1942
“Douglas,” the President of the United States said, “has stated that guerrilla operations in the Philippines are impossible at this time.”
“And we all know that Douglas MacArthur is incapable of being wrong, don’t we?” the Hon. Frank Knox said, taking his pince-nez off and starting to polish the lenses.
Roosevelt looked up from his wheelchair at the dignified, stocky, well-dressed Secretary of the Navy a
nd smiled.
“Admiral?” the President asked.
“We really know nothing, Mr. President, except that this man Fertig has chosen not to surrender, and that he has a radio,” Admiral William D. Leahy said. Leahy, a tall, lanky, sad-faced man, was the former Chief of Naval Operations, and was now serving as Roosevelt’s Chief of Staff.
He looked between Knox and the President, who waited for him to continue.
“If we plan to suggest to General MacArthur that he is wrong, I would like to have more facts than we now have,” Leahy went on. “I would therefore suggest, Mr. President, that we investigate further. Specifically, that Rickabee’s people see what they can find out about Fertig’s activities, and what the potential is.”
“I suggest the Admiral is correct, Mr. President,” Knox said.
“Have you brought this matter to Admiral Nimitz’s attention, Mr. Secretary?”
Knox shook his head, no.
“The relationship between Nimitz and MacArthur is at the moment amicable,” Leahy said. “I would suggest, Mr. Secretary, if the President believes we should go ahead with this—”
“I think we have a moral obligation here,” the President interrupted. “In the absence of an overriding consideration to the contrary, we should go ahead, at least to the point of finding out more about this chap Fertig.”
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