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

"Very interesting," Fertig said. "If they could send a submarine to-what did you say?-Makin Island in August, why couldn't they send one here?"

"Sir, with respect," Lewis said. "The first indication anyone had that you had established a guerrilla operation here was in early October."

Goddammit! I'm making a fool of myself. What the hell is the matter with me ? Why am I being such a horse's ass to these people ? Possibly because I am losing my mind. Or because, in some perverted manner, these well-fed, well-shod, self-confident-especially that damned Killer McCoy-young officers anger me.

"As I was saying, Sir," Lewis said, "the Marine Raiders successfully at-tacked Japanese positions on Makin Island. Lieutenant McCoy and Sergeant Zimmerman were on that operation, General."

"Lieutenant, please don't get the idea that my anger at the powers that be is in any way directed at you," Fertig said. "I am overjoyed to see you here, and fully appreciative of the enormous risks you all took to come here."

"I'm a Marine, General," McCoy said, visibly embarrassed. "I go where they send me."

"If I may continue, General," Lewis said. "Captain James Roosevelt, USMC, the President's son, was also on the Makin Island raid. Captain Roose-velt is known to be another of Lieutenant McCoy's admirers. I submit, Sir, that whatever Lieutenant McCoy has to say about your operation here and its po-tential will receive a very sympathetic ear from the President."

"I take your point," Fertig said. "I hope to convince you, then, Lieuten-ant, that what we have here is potentially a very valuable force with which to wage war, and that we are not a motley crew of insubordinate lunatics headed by a self-promoted egomaniac."

"I'm ready to be convinced, Sir," McCoy said with a smile.

"You haven't said anything, Captain," Fertig said to Macklin. "What's your role in this operation? Starting at the beginning, what is the OSS?"

"It's the Office of Strategic Services," Macklin said. "Headed by Colo-nel William Donovan. It is directly under the President. It is charged with intel-ligence gathering, sabotage, and guerrilla operations worldwide. I was sent on this mission as an observer. It-"

"MacArthur, and the people around him, don't want anything to do with the OSS," McCoy interrupted. "General Pickering thinks that Colonel Dono-van thinks that MacArthur can be forced to accept OSS if somebody from the OSS is in on this operation. Anyway, he was ordered to send Captain Macklin along with us."

And you don't like that at all, do you, Killer McCoy ? And from your tone of voice, you don't like Captain Macklin either. I wonder what's behind that?

"Let's get down to business," Fertig said. "In this 'token shipment' of supplies, what exactly have you brought us?"

McCoy reached in the billowing pocket on the side of his camouflage utili-ties and came out with an oilskin envelope.

"There's a list in there," he said, and chuckled. "You're supposed to sign for them, General. Otherwise, I suppose, they'll start taking them out of my pay."

"The gold will be the most valuable," Fertig said when he'd read the list. "I've been signing IOUs for the supplies, food mostly, we've been able to get from the Filipinos. Money, as someone wise once said, talks."

"El Supremo thinks that matchbooks talk, too," McCoy said, chuckling, and handed Fertig a book of matches. On it was printed, "I SHALL RETURN! MacArthur."

Fertig examined the matches.

"I'll be damned," he said. "Oddly enough, I think these will be very ef-fective."

"We have a case of those," McCoy said, "and we also brought you type-writer ribbons, some uniforms-General Pickering got your sizes from your wife-and a case of scotch. These aren't on the list of stuff you have to sign for."

"Lieutenant," Fertig said, "I am beginning to like you. In time, I may even forgive you for sending Captain Weston off on the submarine."

"I had to do that, General," McCoy said. "And it was a choice between him and Everly. The last time I saw Everly, he was a PFC. PFCs don't rate too high with El Supremo."

"Weston will see General MacArthur?"

"That was the idea, Sir."

"And presumably, after you have analyzed my management of USFIP, you will report to General MacArthur?"

"I will report to General Pickering, Sir. And then he'll report to General MacArthur. And probably the President."

"You will, then, be evacuated from here?"

"The Sunfish is supposed to return for us-and to deliver some more sup-plies-on 14 January, Sir. There may be a little delay in that. Obviously, she can't surface in the same place again. That's one of the things that will have to be worked out."

"General, I brought charts with me," Lewis said. "Places we feel might be good for a submarine infiltration. We of course don't know what the situa-tion is with the Japanese, but..."

"There's a lot of shoreline here. The Japanese can't patrol all of it, all the time. But on the other hand, now they know you're here, I'm sure they'll in-crease patrol activity, both on the ground and by aircraft. Getting you out of here may be more difficult than getting you in. We have lost the element of surprise."

Fertig waited for this to sink in, then went on.

"The reason I'm curious is that we have some people here-some of my men who are wounded, and whom we can't care for properly, and some Ameri-can civilians, including some missionary nurses-that I would like to send out with you when you go."

"I think that could be arranged, Sir," Lewis said. "If we succeed in un-loading the cargo, there would be room for, say, twenty people. It would be crowded, but..."

"I'll make up a list," Fertig said, and then asked, "You mentioned a case of scotch?"

"Yes, Sir."

"Would you gentlemen care to join me in a small libation? I realize the inappropriate hour, but it's been a long time...."

"That would be very nice, General," Lewis said. "Thank you very much. Macklin, would you please go get the General his scotch?"

Without a word, Macklin stood up and went to fetch the scotch.

[TWO]

Office of the Military Governor of Mindanao

Cagayan de Oro, Misamis-Oriental Province Mindanao,

Commonwealth of the Philippines

1450 Hours 29 December 1942

"Let me be sure, Colonel Himasatsu," Brigadier General Kurokawa Kenzo said to the Commanding Officer of the 203rd Infantry Regiment, "that I under-stand what you're telling me. Your regiment, some twenty-five hundred men, took five days to find your missing patrol's truck?"

"Sir, the General must understand what the terrain is like in that area. It is heavy jungle, there is no-"

Kurokawa held up his hand to shut him off.

"And that when you found the truck," Kurokawa went on, "and the patrol sergeant and the truck driver-with their throats cut-you saw no sign of the missing patrol itself?"

"No, Sir. We have not yet been able to locate the patrol itself."

"How many incidents of guerrilla activity does this outrage make this month in your area of responsibility, Colonel?"

"Twenty-two, Sir."

"And how many Japanese soldiers have been murdered by these ban-dits?"

"Seven officers and one hundred and sixteen other ranks, Sir."

"Counting the dead sergeant and the truck driver?"

"No, Sir."

"Counting the missing four members of the patrol?"

"No, Sir."

"That would bring the total to one hundred twenty-two other ranks, wouldn't it?"

"We don't know that the members of the missing patrol are actually dead, Sir."

"I suppose it is possible that they are off cavorting in a brothel some-where, but I don't think that's likely, Colonel, do you?"

"No, Sir."

"And how many bandits have you caught, Colonel Himasatsu?"

"None, Sir."

"Let me state this as clearly as I can, Colonel. The performance of your regiment is not satisfactory."