Jeff Shaara - The Frozen Hours

Sexton seemed surprised at the question. “Oh, no, sir. It’s for General Craig.”

He handed Craig the note, and Craig read silently, then folded the paper, slid it inside his coat. Smith waited, wouldn’t ask, and Craig looked at him, dark worry on the man’s face.

“It’s my father, sir.” He paused, and Smith could feel his emotion. “Forgive me. He has been ill for some time. But this says he suffered a cerebral thrombosis. He’s not expected to live more than a few days.”

“My Lord, Eddie, I’m sorry. I know you and your father are very close.”

Craig seemed to gather himself, faced Smith, seemed more formal now.

“Sir, I would not ask…” He stopped, looked down.

Smith said, “We will send a wire to Hawaii. If General Shepherd has no objection, and he won’t, I’m granting you emergency leave. Take as long as you need. You need to be with your dad.”

Craig kept his eyes down, nodded. “Thank you, sir. This is most important to me.”

“No need, Eddie. It’s done.” He looked at Sexton. “Captain, take General Craig back to HQ, prepare a note for General Shepherd. I’ll return as quickly as we can wrap things up here. Colonel Bowser can remain with me for now.”

“Certainly, sir.”

Craig looked hard at Smith. “Are you sure about this, sir?”

“Get in the jeep.”

Craig held out his gloved hand, and Smith took it, a brief stiff shake. Then Craig moved to the jeep, Sexton following, the blanket held up by the driver, Craig climbing into the front seat. The jeep roared away and Bowser said, “That’s really good of you, sir. Eddie and his dad…”

“I know.”

“The staff can handle the load, sir. I can help as your assistant CO if you need me to.”

“I know.”

“You okay, sir? Don’t mean to stick my nose in.”

“Alpha, we’ve got some serious work in front of us. Get on that radio, see if you can raise Litzenberg. I want to know exactly when the Seventh pulls into Yudam-ni. They’re supposed to keep going, but I want them to hold up until we can push more supplies their way, same as we’ve done all the way up here. Tell the staff to make ready to move out of their quarters in Hungnam. I want to know how quickly we can establish my new HQ here in Hagaru-ri. I want the engineers to tell me how much longer it will be before planes can land out there. Tell Puller I want some of his people up here to help secure this perimeter, on the double.”

“How many people, sir?”

“That’s up to him, for now. He needs to keep a strong perimeter at Koto-ri. He knows how to follow my orders. I tell him what I want done, I don’t tell him how to do it. Get on that radio. And tell Litzenberg that once I know he’s up there, I’ll ride up and have a look.”

Bowser moved to the radioman, who handed Bowser the receiver. Smith felt his mind spinning, all the details that swirled around him now. He thought of Craig, wouldn’t dig too deeply into the man’s emotions. Craig was invaluable, but Smith knew that if Craig’s focus was back home, he would be nearly useless here.

Bowser slapped his arms against his sides again, the late afternoon cold settling hard around them. Smith turned again to the heavy equipment, saw trucks with the huge spotlights moving into position, preparing for another night’s work. To the side, he heard the radioman, “They’re trying to find Colonel Litzenberg, sir. The enemy threw some mortar rounds at the lead of the column. He’s coming, sir.”

Smith tried to ignore that, thought, Let Bowser do the job. He can handle it. He heard Bowser now, a soft murmur, speaking to himself.

“At least I get to ride in the station wagon.”

YUDAM-NI, NORTH KOREA—NOVEMBER 24, 1950

The United Nations’ massive compression envelopment in North Korea against the new Red Armies operating there is now approaching its decisive effort. The isolating component of our pincer…has for the past three weeks, in a sustained effort of model coordination and effectiveness, successfully interdicted enemy lines of support from the north, so that further reinforcement therefrom has been sharply curtailed and essential supplies markedly limited. The eastern sector of the pincer, with noteworthy and effective naval support, has now reached commanding enveloping position, cutting in two the northern reaches of the enemy’s geographical potential. This morning the western sector of the pincer moves forward in general assault in an effort to complete the compression and close the vise. If successful, this should for all practical purposes, end the war….

“So, we’re now part of a pincer?”

Smith read the communiqué again, didn’t look at Litzenberg. After a silent moment, Smith said, “We’re in a ‘commanding and enveloping position.’ ”

Litzenberg paced the cramped space in the tent, said, “According to General MacArthur. Or is that the word of God?”

Smith wouldn’t respond to that, put down the paper. “Murray received this as well. Puller, too. Almond is screaming for a briefing tomorrow morning. I don’t think he knew what MacArthur was intending us to do. It’s one thing to scamper lickety-split toward an objective. It’s quite another thing to work in tandem with another command, to coordinate the assault as one part of a pincer .”

Litzenberg still paced. “We’re spread out across the main road here, positions up in each of the surrounding hills. But it’s unnerving. The Chinese are out there in at least two directions and every report tells me they’re in force. I’m the left flank of the entire Tenth Corps, and I’m out on a very frozen limb here, sir. Yudam-ni is not a defensible position. I don’t have the manpower to cover all the approaches while I’m occupying all that high ground.”

He had rarely heard Litzenberg so nervous. More often, Litzenberg was feisty, stubborn, rejecting orders he didn’t agree with.

“Colonel, I’m out on a limb of my own. I’ve been shouted at for weeks now, harangued for moving too slowly. There has been some talk at Tenth Corps that I should be relieved. If I was army, that would have happened already. If Almond convinces MacArthur that we’re the reason his marvelous little operation is floundering, it won’t much matter anyway.”

“Fine! Then have them send the army up here. Let those boys have a crack at the Chinese.”

“Can that, Colonel. We’re out here because we’re the toughest command Tenth Corps has. They won’t admit that, but every officer from Hungnam to Tokyo is mighty happy it’s us up here and not them. General Ruffner, Almond’s exec, he keeps whispering how we need to be cautious of running into a Chinese trap. There’s no trap, Colonel. I know, you know, Murray and Puller, every company commander, every platoon commander knows that the Chinese are in these hills, waiting for whatever it is they’re waiting for. All I’ve been able to do about that is what I’ve already done, draw us up as close together as possible. We dodged a huge freight train two weeks ago when we were scattered out for a hundred miles. I don’t know why the Chinese let us get away with that, except maybe they weren’t ready for us. But every day that passes, there are more reports, sightings of troop movements, columns of Chinese infantry. The air teams are doing all they can to smother that, but it hasn’t stopped the reports. MacArthur says we’ve cut their supply lines. I’m wondering if that even matters. Maybe they brought everything they need on their backs. Maybe they figure on taking it from us. Maybe, Colonel, this is a one-way street for those people. No one figures on going home. The Japanese were masters of the suicide attack. Maybe, just maybe, the Chinese are planning to give that a try.”