Jeff Shaara - The Frozen Hours

“Why?”

Lowe tilted his head. “You are not naïve, General. You know that MacArthur is not as popular in Washington as he is in the newspapers. He is rather convinced that his way of running things is the only way. And he does not pay much heed to anyone who disagrees with him. The man has been a general in this army for more than thirty years. Things can happen to a man who is always in charge, who is never confronted by argument. He has surrounded himself with those who worship him. What does that do to a man? I don’t know. Do you?” Lowe paused. “It is an uncomfortable situation. I have received word, and not just from the president, mind you. The Joint Chiefs are afraid of the man. MacArthur tells them what he intends to do, and they decide they’ll allow it. Not sure what would happen if they decided not to.”

“That’s not my concern, General.”

Lowe looked at him, another pause. “No, I suppose not. However, I would very much like your view on what is happening right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Your division has been ordered to make a landing in North Korea. Already, South Korean troops are pushing north of the Thirty-eighth parallel, and reports say they are receiving little resistance. There is hope that those troops might end this thing without our own people crossing that border. It concerns me that General MacArthur seems not to care about borders at all. He’s giving General Almond another opportunity for headlines. That’s how some see it. Ned the Anointed, they call him.”

Careful, Smith thought. He’s testing you.

“Hadn’t heard that.”

Lowe seemed to read him, said, “Come now, General. I’m not here to pin you down, put your seat in hot water. It’s my job to understand what is going on here, beyond the piffle Tokyo hands out. I need you to be honest with me, and I assure you, our discussions are in confidence.”

“You, me, and the president.”

“Your commander in chief. Doesn’t he deserve your honesty as well? Certainly, your insights. Your position here is crucial to the success of this campaign. And your performance. Almond knows that. He’s watching you like a hawk. But he’s protected, MacArthur’s hand on his shoulder, warding off any criticism. Not so General Walker. Do you know the man?”

“Some.”

“Walton Walker can’t be happy, wouldn’t you agree?”

Smith searched for the right words. “If I was Walton Walker, three stars, and I was told that a two-star, Ned Almond, would not answer to me, that he would operate a separate independent command, I would probably ask why.”

“And the answer?”

“You would have to ask General MacArthur.”

Lowe leaned again on the rail, seemed more at ease now. “It’s no secret, not even to you, that MacArthur dislikes Walton Walker. Doesn’t trust him. Walker’s done okay, served his men well around Pusan. But his headquarters is a mess, disorganized, men running around with no clear notion of their objectives, or how to obtain them.”

Smith was surprised by that, kept it to himself. “I’m not familiar with General Walker’s methods.”

“No, and you won’t be, not anytime soon. You answer to Almond, and only Almond. And Almond answers only to MacArthur. Walton Walker and his Eighth Army might as well be on the moon. It might feel like that, before too long.”

“You want me to give you my view about my orders, about the next part of this campaign. You need me to explain to you what MacArthur’s doing? You already know.”

“Perhaps. I’d prefer hearing it from you. Let’s just say the president wants to know who’s paying attention.”

Smith let out a breath, looked hard at Lowe. “I’m not pleased with your questions, General Lowe.”

“Perhaps it is the answers that bother you.”

Smith stared out, thought, Perhaps it is. He looked again at Lowe, saw nothing to give him doubts about the man’s integrity, no hint of some duplicitous agenda. But still, Smith was careful. It was the sorest point Smith had wrestled with, the contradiction to the training every senior officer had received.

His words came out slowly. “General MacArthur has divided his army. The Tenth Corps is to advance into North Korea east of the mountains. The Eighth Army is to advance to the west. This country is split in two by a backbone, a mountain range that will limit communication and logistics.”

“You don’t approve?”

“I don’t have approval . I obey the orders I’m given. If MacArthur is correct, this war will end rapidly, without many more casualties. I must support that optimism.”

Lowe shook his head, seemed frustrated. “Marines.” He leaned against the rail, faced Smith. “You may enjoy the luxury of your optimism, General. Others are not so fortunate. There is more at stake here than the destruction of the North Korean army. General, do you know what MacArthur told the Joint Chiefs? Allow me to paraphrase. In exploiting the defeat of the enemy, our troops may cross the Thirty-eighth parallel at any time….I regard all of Korea open for our military operations . He doesn’t mention whether or not it’s wise to divide his army in two. He doesn’t talk about mountain ranges and backbones. He has rattled the president with his insistence that this cakewalk will end by Christmas. That kind of talk plays well in the newspapers, believe me. Plays well among the troops, too. But the larger concern is just how well that plays in Moscow.”

Smith was becoming more uncomfortable now. “I don’t know about such things. I’ve heard no reports of any Russian troops in Korea.”

“No. But there is real fear in Washington that the Soviets are waiting, watching, might use this as a provocation for a new war. There is concern that if MacArthur drives his people, your people into China, the Soviets will respond in Europe. There are reports of thousands of Soviet tanks poised along the border between East and West Germany. Our allies are praying that this mess concludes as quickly as MacArthur insists it will. But if it doesn’t, we’re sitting on a big damn bomb, General. What happens here could ignite World War Three.”

Smith glanced around, no one within earshot. He looked again at Lowe, saw no drama in the man, his voice soft and steady. Smith kept his voice low, said, “I’ve heard none of that. It won’t happen. It can’t. No one would go that far. President Truman doesn’t want that, surely. He can prevent it. His orders must be obeyed.”

“The president knows that, of course. The Joint Chiefs know that. But, General, the greater concern in Washington is whether or not Douglas MacArthur knows that.”

On October 15, a surprised Douglas MacArthur received an invitation to meet with his commander in chief on Wake Island. The choice of location was seen by those in Washington as a concession to MacArthur, that President Truman’s journey would be much longer than that of his general. Whether MacArthur appreciated or even recognized the gesture, he flew to Wake feeling as though the president had trespassed into MacArthur’s private fiefdom. The meeting itself did nothing to dissuade MacArthur that Truman was playing politics with the war, that voices of opposition against the president in Washington had forced Truman to demonstrate that he was clearly involved in the hard decisions in Korea. MacArthur realized immediately that the meeting was more for show than for substance, a time-consuming annoyance.

At a formal press conference immediately following, MacArthur repeated to the audience what he had said privately to Truman. His successes were virtually complete. MacArthur was adamant that there was little if any chance of the Chinese or the Soviet Union coming to the support of the North Koreans. MacArthur conveyed the message to the reporters whom Truman had brought across the ocean that the bulk of the American troops would be home by Christmas.