The Aviators
Page 36
"Norman, Four Seven One, I have the airfield in sight."
"Four Seven One, roger. Attention all aircraft in the vicinity of Norman Airfield. We have a possible emergency on runway one four. All aircraft approaching Norman will immediately begin a sixty-second turn and maintain position until further notice. Repeating, Norman has a possible emergency on runway one four. All aircraft approaching Norman. will' begin to' execute a sixty-second turn immediately and hold altitude and position until further notice. "
"Norman, Army Four Seven One over the outer marker."
"Norman clears Army Four Seven One for a straight-in, landing on runway one four. The winds are negligible, the altimeter is two niner niner seven. "
"Oh, shit, there goes the other engine."
"Four Seven One, say again?"
"Norman, we're not going to make it. Goddammit!" ':Four Seven One, emergency equipment is in place."
"Oh, goddammit-he went in!"
[FOUR]
Cairns Army Airfield Fort Rucker, Alabama
1015 Hours 22 April 1964
Major General Robert F. Bellmon; trailed by Captain John S. Oliver, walked out of the Base Operations building across the concrete parking ramp to a glistening Learjet in Air Force markings. The fuselage door opened and a young black woman wearing the chevrons of an Air Force~ staff sergeant climbed down the in-door steps.
She saw Bellmon and saluted. Crisply, but not in awe.
Lear jets of the Air Force's Special Missions Squadron got to see a lot of brass. The day before, Air Force 311 had carried two four-stars, an admiral and the Commander in Chief of the Strategic Air Command.
"I don't believe Colonel Felter is quite ready to deplane, Sir," the staff sergeant said to Bellmon.
"May I go aboard?" Bellmon asked.
"Of course, Sir." Bellmon entered the airplane and Oliver followed him.
Colonel Sanford T. Felter was pulling on uniform trousers.
He hooked suspenders over his shoulders, then reached for his blouse.
"I'm suitably awed, Sandy," Bellmon said.
Jesus Christ, so am I, Oliver thought.
He had never seen Felter in a uniform before. There was an awesome display of fruit salad on Felter's blouse. Under a Combat Infantry Badge (with a star signifying the second award) were parachutists' wings with two stars for combat jumps. There was a Distinguished Service Cross, the nation's second-highest award for valor, a Distinguished Service Medal, two Silver Stars, two Bronze Stars, and a Purple Heart with three oak leaf clusters. Below these were two rows, three ribbons to a row, signifying foreign decorations, only a few of which, including the French Legion of Honor, in the grade of Chevalier, Oliver recognized. Below these were two rows of "I Was There" ribbons going back to World War II. On the other side were. insignia representing service on the General Staff of the U.S. Army, United States and Korean Distinguished Unit citations, and another set of wings that Oliver recognized after a moment as those awarded to members of the French Troisieme Regiment Parachutiste. The Troisieme had died at Dien Bien Phu.
"Hello, Oliver," Felter said as he buttoned his blouse.
"You're awed with me or the airplane, Bob?"
"Both," Bellmon said.
"I asked my boss if I could come down here for a couple of days," Felter said, putting his brimmed hat on his head and adjusting it. "And he asked why, and 1 told him, and he said, 'Take a jet' and be back tomorrow."
"Very nice," Bellmon said.
"I admit I could learn to like traveling like this," Felter said. "Every time the level in my coffee cup dropped below three quarters, that sergeant filled it up. I'm about to burst."
"I presume the uniform is for the memorial service?" Bellmon asked.
"Yeah. I thought it appropriate. In a sense, I was their commanding officer. "
"Damned shame," Bellmon said.
"Anything new on how it happened?" Felter asked, looking at Oliver.
"Best guess now is contaminated fuel, Sir," Oliver said.
"As nearly as we can construct their flight, they took on fuel, the last three times, at some dinky little airports."
"Damn," Felter said.
"The memorial service is at eleven," Bellmon said.
"Would you like me to introduce you to the families?"
"That's why I'm here," Felter said. "To try to make the point they bought the farm doing something important. That's not much, but they're entitled to that, for what it's worth."
"I think the gesture is entirely appropriate, Sandy," Bellmon said. "I think they will appreciate your coming."
"That's not the only reason I'm here, of course," Felter said. "One of Dick Fullbright's people will deliver another airplane later today."
"Today surprises me," Bellmon said. "How did, you arrange that?"
Felter shrugged. "This is important, Bob."
"But in another way I think we're probably ahead of you," Bellmon said. "I alerted that other officer, the one you didn't pick before. I told him he might be asked to volunteer as a replacement. And Johnny came up with another list of people who've done a Vietnam tour, speak French, and are U8 qualified. His name is on the list, Sandy. If it's as important as you say, you can have him." Felter looked at Oliver and smiled. "Didn't anyone ever tell you not to volunteer for anything, Oliver?"
"It looks like a pretty interesting assignment, Sir."
"Well, I think you're more useful right where you are," Felter said. "And so far as that other guy goes, I don't want him, volunteer or not. I didn't like his attitude. I'll look at your list, Johnny, and I'm grateful you made it up, but what it looks like right now is Pappy Hodges and Geoff Craig."
"Young Craig's still in flight school," Bellmon protested.
"Rotary-wing school."
"And he has just passed the FAA check for multiengine land instrument whether you know that officially or not."
"I didn't know he passed the FAA check ride," Bellmon said. "And if I knew, officially, that he'd even been taking instruction, I'd have had to do something about it. Off-post instruction is absolutely forbidden."
"Well, he has, and I need him," Felter said. "You're going to have to run him past a Civilian Experience Board and get him certified. "
That was an order, not a suggestion, Johnny realized. I wonder how the General's going to take that?
Bellmon's lips tightened and he looked at Felter coldly.
"Which will make me look like a damned fool, you realize?" he said finally.
I'll be damned, he took it.
"That can't be helped, Bob. Geoff Craig was a Green Beret and he speaks French fluently. Pappy Hodges's experience in flying in the bush makes them a pretty good pair." And that was the senior explaining to the junior why he has to do something he doesn't want to. Their roles are reversed.
"What about that PFC from the Congo you sent to the Board?" General Bellmon asked.
"Portet? Since you apparently have DCSPERS in your pocket, why don't you get him a commission, or at least a warrant, and send him?"
"You've met him?"
"Johnny has," Bellmon said.
"What do you think of PFC Portet, Johnny?" Felter asked.
"I like him," Oliver said: Levelheaded. I have heard rumors that he's the one who got Geoff Craig through the FAA examination. If a suggestion wouldn't be out of place, Sir, Portet may be the man to send."
"Your suggestions are always welcome, Johnny," Felter said. "Even when they don't fit into what has to happen. Portet, like you, is more valuable on 'hold until needed' than he would be in the Congo. Anyway, he wouldn't go".
"What do you mean by that?" Bellmon said. There was a shade of bitterness in his voice. Or resignation.
" Hold until needed'?" Felter parroted. "Just what it sounds like."
"I meant what you said about Portet not being willing to go." Damn, I wish he had answered the first question, Oliver thought. What the hell is he talking about?
Felter's eyes smiled naughtily.
"The story I get, Bob," he said, "is that a team of horses couldn't drag him from Marjorie's side."
"My God, how did you hear about that?"
"Portet has been reciting Marjorie's many virtues to Pappy Hadges, apparently by the hour, "Felter replied with a smile.
"Pappy told me." Bellman grunted. "That doesn't answer the basic question:
what do you mean, he won't go? He's a soldier. Soldiers go where they're told to. go."
"His family is in the Congo. He told Mr. Fintan that he Would go to.. Vietnam tomorrow, but he would desert before he put his family in danger by going to the Congo."
"Nonsense," Bellman snorted.
"Fintan believes him. So do I. Anyway, that's moot. I have other plans far him here. I'm afraid it comes dawn to. Pappy Hodges and Goaff Craig, Bob. I've already talked to Pappy. He's willing to go, of course. After the memorial service, I want to see Goaff Craig."
[FIVE]
Cairns Army Airfield Fort Rucker, Alabama
0815 Hours 2 May 1964
The AOD was the same pompous sonafabitch who had given Johnny Oliver trouble about using the telephone far personal reasons back in January.
He was now practically beside himself with curiosity. First, he had been directed by the FOD on the past to permit the landing of a civilian Cessna- airplane. The FOD hadn't known anything about it, except that the ward had came dawn from Sergeant Major Harrison James.
And now the General's dog-robber had shown up, just as the civilian Cessna was due to. land. And in civilian clothing.
Sensing the bastard's curiosity, Oliver resolved not to. tell him a damn thing. With a little bit of luck, Lieutenant Colonel Craig W. Lowell would show up in civvies, too. And in civvies, Lowell looked mare like a movie actor than a serving officer.
"May I be of any help, Captain?"
"No., thank you, Sir. I'm just waiting far someone."
"There's a civilian Cessna about to land," the Major said.
"Special permission came dawn from the FOD."
"Really? "
The Cessna taxied up to the transient parking ramp" The door opened, and Lieutenant Colonel Craig W. Lowell came out. He was wearing a tweed sports coat, an open collared shirt, and a foulard.
"That must be him," the AOD said. "I wander' who he is?"
Oliver walked out of Base Operations without replying. He decided to forgo saluting a senior officer. "Good morning, Sir," he said.
"Hey, Johnny," Lowell called as he jumped off the wing root. "I appreciate this. Sorry to take your Saturday morning."
"No. problem, Sir," Oliver said as Lowell offered his hand.
"My car's right behind Base Ops." And then he gave into the temptation. "Colonel, you speak French, don't you?"
"Uh huh. Why?"
"When we walk through Base Ops would you mind talking in French?"
Lowell looked at him appraisingly. "Putting somebody an?"
"The AOD, Sir."
"D 'accord, mon ami," Lowell said. "Any special reason, or is he just an all-around pain in the ass?"
"No. special reason, Sir." And even that went better than Johnny could have hoped.
The AOD came up to them and identified himself, and asked if he could be of any help. Lowell gave him a look of righteous indignation, and let loose a torrent of French, ending with a gesture which had his hand raised, index finger pointing skyward. Then he marched out the back door of Base Ops and got into Oliver's Pontiac.
"You think that fixed the bastard?" Lowell asked as they left Cairns Field.
"I think we've ruined his day," Oliver said.
"I know the type. The Army is full of them. I suppose naturally."
"Sir? "
"The Army, by its very nature, attracts people who prefer to be ordered around rather than make their awn decisions.
If it's not specifically authorized, it's forbidden, in other words. That type is necessary, even important, but it does them good to be shaken up every once in a while."
"Yes, Sir, I suppose that's true." Lowell changed the subject.
"I was sorry I couldn't get here before Geoff left. Or even Ursula. But they did get off all right, I take it?"
"Yes, Sir. Ursula and Mrs. Hodges left yesterday. Mrs. Bellmon and Marjorie took them to the airport."
"My cousin, Geoff's father, has arranged to take care of them in Frankfurt," Lowell said. "Getting them from here to New York was the problem."
"Yes, Sir."
"My cousin's wife is having a fit about some of the furniture in the house in Ozark," Lowell said. "Apparently some of it is from her family, and rather valuable. That's what I'm going to do her, stick labels on some of the antiques so the movers can come and send the good stuff back to New York. And then I want to see about renting the house."
"General Bellmon told me, Sir," Oliver said. "Colonel, my girl is in the real estate business. Maybe she could help you about renting the house."
"The thought that came to me on my way up here, Johnny, is that maybe you'd like to move in. The rent would be whatever your housing allowance is. That way, with somebody we know, Geoff wouldn't have to pay for storage for the rest of his furniture." For a moment the idea was exciting, but then reality shot the balloon down.
"Colonel, I appreciate the offer, but General Bellmon keeps me on a pretty tight leash. I don't think he'd like it, when he blows his whistle, to have to wait for me to drive all the way from Ozark." Lowell chuckled.
"That's the same reason Bellmon gave when I said you and Bobby could share the house," Lowell said.
"Sir? "
"Bobby's coming here right after graduation," Lowell said.
"You didn't know that?"
"No, Sir."
"Interesting," Lowell said thoughtfully. "The school's running a test. Four classes, two fixed and two rotary wing. Twenty-one of each-will be warrant office~ candidates, but they won't be sergeants with three years of service. They'll be kids right out of basic training. And one of each will be brand-new second lieutenants, right out of college ROTC without even going through their branch basic-officer course first. Except for four kids from the Point, one of whom, by what I am sure is the purest of chance, is Bobby."
"I'd heard about the test courses," Oliver said, "but not about Bobby."
"I can't imagine why he didn't tell you," Lowell said dryly.
"Unless, maybe, he didn't want to shatter your illusions about being the sort of sterling character who would never use his connections, including the West Point Protective Association, to get his kid a favor."
"Sending someone to flight school isn't always a favor," Johnny said.