W.E.B. Griffin - The Corps VII - Behind the Lines

After McCoy made the decision-feeling the weight of it lying heavily on his shoulders-to take the chance that Everly and Zimmerman could find the Japanese truck-if in fact there was a truck-and get rid of it, there was hectic activity.

Four additional rubber boats were inflated and launched, and manned by sailors-there was no shortage of volunteers from among the Sunfish's crew. They began to ferry plastic-wrapped parcels ashore.

After the first two boats were manhandled back into the water-the surf had diminished since daybreak-they were paddled back to the submarine. The next four boats from the Sunfish didn't reach the beach. Their plastic-wrapped parcels were put over the side, and one of the two paddlers went into the water with them. The remaining paddlers paddled the now empty boats back to the Sunfish.

That process was repeated four times, so that eventually ten sailors were on the beach or else standing in waist-high water unloading the boats and mov-ing the cargo inland.

It was a far more efficient means to off-load the cargo than they'd been using, but it had not occurred to anyone during the practice sessions in Aus-tralia. The idea was Lieutenant Lewis's. After he proposed it, McCoy went along with it, somewhat cold-bloodedly deciding that if the Japanese came submarine hunting with a destroyer, it really wouldn't make a difference whether the Sunfish sailors died aboard the submarine or ferrying cargo ashore. He had not really expected they would off-load all the supplies they had brought with them, and now that there was a chance to do that, risking the sailors' lives seemed justifiable.

After they started unloading, one of the sailors, a chubby cook, politely suggested to McCoy that he just let the Navy unload the boats and save his strength. McCoy accepted the offer, wondering whether he agreed to do that because it was the militarily wise thing, or because he would rather have some-one else work up a major sweat in the heat and humidity.

He also ordered Koffler to get into the shade and save his strength. As soon as Everly returned-if Everly returned-Koffler was going to have to look for Everly's motorcycle, and then start out to find Fertig. He would need all his strength for that.

How to get everything to Fertig-wherever Fertig was-was going to be a problem, but that could be worried about later. The important thing now was to move the supplies off the beach and into the jungle where the Japanese would be unlikely to find them.

Forty minutes later, Everly came out of the jungle, hopping with surprising speed with the aid of a tree branch used as a crutch. He had both the carbine and an Arisaka rifle slung over his shoulder.

"Found it," he said. "We lucked out. All there was was a sergeant and the driver. Zimmerman cut their throats."

"Where is he?"

"He took the truck south."

"How's he going to get back here?"

"He's only going to take it two miles," he said. "He said that's far enough. Then he's coming back here."

"What's this?" McCoy asked, tapping the stock of the Arisaka. "A sou-venir?"

"Until you showed up, McCoy, we got our weapons from the Japs."

"OK. The thing to do now is get Koffler and his radio to Fertig. Can you find your motorcycle?"

"Yeah."

"Koffler!" McCoy called, raising his voice, and Koffler came running up.

The sweat had erased much of the black whatever-it-was that he had had on his face when Everly first saw him. Now he looked even younger.

"Go with Everly, Steve. You know what to do," McCoy said.

"Aye, aye, Sir."

Having completed their final trip to the beach, two of the rubber boats were almost back to the Sunfish, carrying with them members of the shore labor party. Before wading a final time into the surf, each of them had shaken hands with the landing party.

The third boat has halfway between shore and the submarine. The fourth had two sailors in it; a third sailor, in chest-deep water, was holding it for Lewis to wade out to it.

Using leafy branches from the jungle as a broom, Captain Macklin was doing what he could to obliterate the evidence of heavy traffic in the sand.

"You didn't have to come ashore," McCoy said, offering Lewis his hand. "I appreciate it. Take care of yourself, Lewis."

"Let me take him back with me, Ken," Lewis said, nodding at Macklin.

"No," McCoy said firmly.

"He's going to cause trouble," Lewis argued.

"Two things. General Pickering wants him here," McCoy said. "And, I realized, so do I."

"Why, for God's sake?"

"I guess the idea of the sonofabitch standing around some O Club bar mak-ing it big time with some nurse with stories of being in the Philippines with the guerrillas just pisses me off," McCoy said wryly, and then grew serious. "He's a Marine officer. He was sent here, goddamn it, and he should behave like a Marine officer. If he can't hack it, then he shouldn't be a Marine officer."

"If he threatens your mission, would you really kill him?"

"I hope I don't have to," McCoy said. "But I'm not sending the sonofa-bitch back."

"I was afraid you'd say that," Lewis said.

McCoy shrugged.

"If you can figure some way to do it without getting your ass in a crack, get word, through Ed Sessions, to my girl that I'm all right," McCoy said.

"Sorry, I can't do that," Lewis said. He walked out of the vegetation to the edge of the water, cupped his hands to his mouth, and shouted, "Boats, take that man aboard and get out to the Sunfish. I'm staying ashore."

"Hey, wait a minute!" McCoy called, running out to Lewis.

"You heard me, Boats, shove off!" Lewis shouted.

The two sailors in the rubber boat quickly hauled the one in the water into the boat and startled paddling out to the Sunfish.

"Are you out of your mind?" McCoy asked.

"Probably," Lewis said with a smile. "Two things. I don't want you shooting Macklin, and I really don't want to go back aboard that goddamned submarine."

"If I decide I have to take care of him, you're not going to get in my way," McCoy said.

"Understood," Lewis said.

They moved back into the vegetation and watched as the boat reached the Sunfish, and as it and the crew were quickly hauled aboard.

"You could still get on the radio and tell them to come get you."

"Too late," Lewis said, and pointed.

The colors were suddenly gone from the mast, and her decks were clear. She began to move very slowly, and very slowly to slip beneath the surface.

"I hope you remembered to bring something to eat," Lewis said.

"Just for the record, I think you've lost your mind," McCoy said. "We've got some Army rations. 'C rations' they call them."

[SIX]

Headquarters, U.S. Forces in the Philippines

In the Field

Davao Oriental Province Mindanao,

Commonwealth of the Philippines

0705 Hours 25 December 1942

The Commanding General had left instructions that he was not to be awak-ened, unless of course there was an indication the Japanese were nearby. So the first view Staff Sergeant Stephen Koffler, USMCR, had of Brigadier General Wendell W. Fertig was of a middle-aged man, with a red goatee, rising from his bed. The bed was a piece of canvas laid on the ground beneath an obviously freshly and hastily constructed lean-to.

This apparition was wearing a frayed and mussed khaki shirt, to the collar points of which were pinned silver stars. Matching trousers and a pair of bat-tered boots were hanging from the lean-to roof. The General held a Model 1911.45 ACP pistol, hammer cocked, and looked somewhat startled.

The first view General Fertig had of Staff Sergeant Koffler was of a boy- an American boy, who looked about seventeen-in dyed-black khakis. His arms and the backs of his hands were black, and his white face was framed in more black, under his hairline, and down his neck. In his hand he was carrying a very small rifle, of a type Fertig had never seen before, and something like a cut-off sword was hanging from his neck on a cord.