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

"You want to be an officer, apply for OCS," McCoy said reasonably. "I'm sure the General would recommend you for it. Hell, Koffler, I'll write you a letter of recommendation myself."

"I already looked into that. I can't even apply until I'm twenty-one, for Christ's sake."

"Is that what the regulation says?" McCoy asked.

"Nobody asked me how old I was when I jumped onto Buka," Koffler said.

McCoy could think of no reply to make, and made none.

"Oh, hell," Koffler said, as if finally accepting the logic of McCoy's argu-ment. "But I still want to go with you."

Not if I have anything to say about it, McCoy thought.

"Koffler, give yourself a chance to get your health back. Enjoy your fam-ily. Remember that sacred Marine Corps saying, 'Never volunteer for any-thing.' "

"You volunteered to get Howard and me off Buka," Koffler argued.

"Jesus Christ, you don't know when to quit, do you?" McCoy snapped. "For Christ's sake, Koffler, drop it!"

Koffler shrugged.

McCoy looked at Daphne Koffler in time to see that she didn't like at all the words or the tone of voice he had used on her husband.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Maybe it would be best if I left."

"That would just make things worse," she said. "And you didn't say any-thing to him I haven't already said. Please stay."

"Fix me another drink, Koffler," Lieutenant Hart said. "And then tell Lieutenant McCoy about plastic."

"Sure," Koffler said.

McCoy met Daphne Koffler's eyes.

"Fix me one, too, while you're at it, please," he said.

She nodded her head, just perceptibly, in approval.

When her husband went into the kitchen, she walked to the couch and sat down beside McCoy.

"Thank you," she said.

"Excuse me?"

"You're wrong about me, Lieutenant," she said. "I married Steve be-cause I love him, not because I'm carrying his child."

"Believe it or not, Mrs. Koffler, I'd already figured that out."

She looked into his eyes again.

"You had, hadn't you?" she said, as if surprised.

He nodded.

"Now that we're all pals," George Hart said, "do you think you two could stop calling each other 'Mrs. Koffler' and 'Lieutenant McCoy'?"

McCoy looked at him.

"Mr. Hart," McCoy said, "second lieutenants should be seen and not heard. Isn't that so, Daphne?"

"I believe that's true, Ken," she replied.

T O P S E C R E T

SUPREME HEADQUARTERS SWPOA NAVY DEPT WASH DC

VIA SPECIAL CHANNEL

DUPLICATION FORBIDDEN

ORIGINAL TO BE DESTROYED AFTER ENCRYPTION AND TRANSMTTTAL

EYES ONLY-THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY

BRISBANE, AUSTRALIA

SATURDAY 14 NOVEMBER 1942

DEAR FRANK:

WORD JUST REACHED HERE THAT THE BATTLESHIPS WASHINGTON AND SOUTH DAKOTA HAVE SUNK THE JAPANESE BATTLESHIP KIHISHIMA, EVEN THOUGH THE SOUTH DAKOTA APPARENTLY WAS PRETTY BADLY HIT IN THE PROCESS. I'D LIKE TO THINK THAT ADMIRAL DAN CALLAHAN SOMEHOW KNOWS ABOUT THIS. I WAS PRETTY UPSET WHEN I HEARD HE WAS KILLED THE DAY BEFORE. REVENGE IS SWEET.

THE MORE I GET INTO THIS FERTIG IN THE PHILIPPINES BUSINESS-SPECIFICALLY, THE MORE I HAVE LEARNED FROM LT COL JACK NMI STECKER ABOUT THE EFFICACY OF A WELL-RUN GUERRILLA OPERATION-THE MORE I BECOME CONVINCED THAT IT'S WORTH A GOOD DEAL OF EFFORT AND EXPENSE.

WHERE IT STANDS RIGHT NOW IS THAT A YOUNG MARINE OFFICER, LIEUTENANT KENNETH MCCOY, WHOM THEY CALL "KILLER," BY THE WAY, JUST ARRIVED HERE. HE HAS ALREADY MADE THE MAKIN ISLAND MARINE RAIDER OPERATION, AND WENT ASHORE ON BUKA FROM ANOTHER SUBMARINE WHEN WE REPLACED THE MARINES THERE. HE IS AS EXPERT IN RUBBER BOAT OPERATIONS AS THEY COME, IN OTHER WORDS. HE SEES NO PROBLEM IN GETTING ASHORE FROM A SUBMARINE OFF MINDANAO.

HE AND STECKER HAVE COME UP WITH A LIST OF MATERIEL THEY FEEL SHOULD GO TO FERTIG, ESSENTIALLY, AND IN THIS ORDER, GOLD, RADIOS, MEDICINE, AND SMALL ARMS AND AMMUNITION. BECAUSE OF THE SMALL STATURE OF THE AVERAGE FILIPINO, BOTH FEEL THAT THE US CARBINE IS THE PROPER WEAPON. I HAVE THE RADIOS AND THE CARBINES AND AMMUNITION FOR THEM, AND HAVE BEEN PROMISED AN ARRAY OF MEDICINES WHENEVER I WANT THEM. I HAVE ALSO BEEN PROMISED A SUBMARINE, PROBABLY THE USS NARWHAL, WHICH IS A CARGO SUBMARINE. THE PROMISE CAME FROM CINCPAC HIMSELF, WHO SHARES MY BELIEF THAT ANY GUERRILLA OPERATION IN THE PHILIPPINES SHOULD BE SUPPORTED ON STRATEGIC, TACTICAL, AND MORAL GROUNDS.

I ONLY NEED TWO THINGS MORE: I NEED $250,000 IN GOLD. ACTUALLY, WHAT I NEED IS A CABLE TRANSFER OF THAT MUCH MONEY TO THE BANK OF AUSTRALIA, WHO WILL GIVE MB THE GOLD. THE SOONER THE BETTER.

THE SECOND THING I NEED IS FOR YOU TO GOOSE THE MARINE CORPS PERSONNEL PEOPLE. THEY STILL HAVEN'T TRANSFERRED LT COL STECKER TO ME. COLONEL RICKABEE REPORTS THAT HE'S BEEN GETTING A VERY COLD SHOULDER ABOUT THIS, ALTHOUGH NO EXPLANATION HAS BEEN GIVEN, AND YOUR NORMALLY INCREDIBLY ABLE CAPTAIN HAUGHTON HASN'T BEEN ABLE TO GET THEM OFF THEIR UPHOLSTERED CHAIRS, EITHER. I NEED STECKER FOR THIS. HE'S AN EXPERT IN GUERRILLA OPERATIONS, AND THIS IS CERTAINLY MORE IMPORTANT THAN WHAT THE CORPS WANTS HIM TO DO VIS-A-VIS SETTING UP PROPHYLACTIC FACILITIES AND AMATEUR THEATRICALS. MCCOY GOING ASHORE ALONE WOULD NOT BE NEARLY AS EFFECTIVE AS THE TWO OF THEM GOING TOGETHER.

I EARNESTLY SOLICIT YOUR IMMEDIATE ACTION IN THIS REGARD.

BEST REGARDS,

FLEMING PICKERING, BRIGADIER GENERAL, USMCR

T O P S E C R E T

[ONE]

Supreme Headquarters

South West Pacific Ocean Area

Brisbane, Australia

1715 Hours 16 November 1942

The two Army Military Policemen on duty at the entrance of General MacArthur's headquarters saluted crisply as Brigadier General Fleming Pickering, USMCR, strode briskly through the door.

Pickering returned their salute with a smile. He walked quickly to the Studebaker President with the letters usmc on each side of the hood and the Marine Corps insignia on its front doors, slid into the driver's seat, and started the engine.

Second Lieutenant George F. Hart, USMCR, the aiguillette of his aide-de-camp status flapping up and down as he ran, slowed as he passed through the door long enough to exchange salutes with the MPs and then broke into a trot to the car, as if afraid he would be left behind.

As soon as Hart was in the car, the Studebaker, with a chirp of its tires, backed out of the RESERVED FOR GENERAL OFFICERS parking space, stopped abruptly, and then, with another squeal of tires, drove away.

The two MPs exchanged glances and small smiles. With the exception of the Marine general, every other general and admiral at Supreme Headquarters, Southwest Pacific Ocean Area, had an enlisted driver for his official vehicle. The driver would jump out of the car when he spotted his general or admiral, open the rear door, stand at attention until the general or admiral had climbed in, close the door, and then, after making sure the aide-de-camp was in the backseat, get behind the wheel and chauffeur his august passenger in the ritual dignity to which he was entitled by virtue of his rank.

Not so General Pickering. Not only did he normally drive himself, but more often than not he wasn't accompanied by his aide-de-camp.

There was more. It was reliably rumored that General Douglas MacArthur called General Pickering by his Christian name. Every other officer was ad-dressed by his rank, except for a very few whom El Supremo honored by ad-dressing them by their last names.

This, and a number of other personal idiosyncrasies-General Pickering did not live, for example, in the quarters provided for the very senior officers, but in a rambling frame house he rented near the racetrack-had not, most of the enlisted men knew, endeared General Pickering to his peers, the other gen-eral and flag officers of Supreme Headquarters, SWPOA.

It was therefore perhaps natural for the enlisted men, and many of the jun-ior officers, to look fondly upon General Pickering. Anybody who had most of the big brass pissed off at him couldn't be all bad.