W.E.B. Griffin - The Corps IV - Battleground

"Yes, Sir."

"I think we're going to have to give him the benefit of the doubt. He says he doesn't remember when, or under what conditions, he broke off the engagement. I don't think he does. He lost his windscreen and he was wounded. The question is, when did that happen? Before or after he started back to Midway? He didn't run before the fight. He got a Kate. There's no question about that. And then he got a Zero. Again, confirmed beyond any question. And then the next time he's seen, he's on his way back to Midway. Close enough to be recognized beyond any doubt, but too far away for anyone to be able to state with certainty that he had, or had not, already lost his windshield."

"I realize, Sir, I haven't been asked, but in those circumstances I would be prone to give him the benefit of the doubt."

"Ascribing Wood's charges to post-combat hysteria?"

"Something like that, Sir."

"Unfortunately, although he elected not to pursue them, Wood's charges are going to be remembered by a lot of people for a long time-made worse in the retelling, of course."

"What are you going to do with Dunn, Sir?" Lorenz said, after a moment.

"You and I are about to visit Lieutenant Dunn in the hospital; there I will express my pleasure that he will be discharged tomorrow, present him with his Purple Heart Medal, and inform him that he is now assigned to VMF-229. I think he will understand why it would be awkward for him to return to VMF-211. I hope he doesn't ask me for an explanation."

"Two-twenty-nine, Sir?" Lorenz asked, surprised.

Dawkins nodded. 'Two-twenty-nine."

"Sir, we haven't activated VMF-229 yet."

"It is activated," Dawkins said and paused to look at his watch, "as of 1300 hours today. Its personnel consists of one officer, absent in hospital, and one officer, en route, not yet joined. See that the order is typed up."

"Who did you decide to give it to, Sir?"

"A good Marine officer, Major," Dawkins said, "is always willing to carefully consider the recommendations of his superiors."

"Sir?"

Dawkins chuckled, opened a desk drawer, and handed Lorenz a sheet of yellow teletype paper.

ROUTINE

CONFIDENTIAL

HQ USMC WASH DC 1445 14JUNE42

COMMANDING OFFICER

MAG-21 EWA TH

CAPTAIN CHARLES M. GALLOWAY, USMCR, HAVING REPORTED UPON ACTIVE DUTY, HAS BEEN ORDERED TO PROCEED BY AIR TO EWA FOR DUTY AS COMMANDING OFFICER VMF-229. WHILE THIS ASSIGNMENT HAS THE CONCURRENCE OF THE COMMANDANT AND THE UNDERSIGNED YOU ARE OF COURSE AT LIBERTY TO ASSIGN THIS OFFICER TO ANY DUTIES YOU WISH. D.G. MCINERNEY BRIG GEN USMC

"I will be goddamned," Lorenz said.

"I thought you might find that surprising," Dawkins said.

"The last time I saw Charley, I thought they were going to crucify him," Lorenz said. "And I mean, literally. What the hell does that 'concurrence of the Commandant' mean?"

"I think it means that Doc Mclnerney went right to the Commandant. They had Charley flying a VIP R4D around out of Quantico." The R4D was the Navy designation of the twin-engine Douglas transport aircraft called DC-3 by the manufacturer and C-47 by the Army Air Corps. "What I think is that Mclnerney went to the Commandant and told him how desperate we are for people with more than two hundred hours in a cockpit. As furious as the Navy was with him, nobody but the Commandant would dare to commission him."

"The last I heard, they wouldn't let him fly-hell, even taxi-anything. He was still a sergeant, and they had him working as a mechanic on the flight line at Quantico. But this sort of restores my faith in the Marine Corps," Lorenz said.

" 'Restores' your faith, Major?" Dawkins asked wryly. "That suggests it was lost."

"Well, let's say, the way the brass let the Navy crap all over Charley, that it wavered a little."

"Oh ye of little faith!" Dawkins mocked, gently.

"When's he due in?"

Dawkins shrugged helplessly. "The TWX didn't say," he said. "And knowing Charley as well as I do, that means one of two things: He will either rush over here as fast as humanly possible, or else he will still be trying to find a slow ship the day the war's over."

Lorenz laughed.

Dawkins stood up.

"Let's go pin the Purple Heart on Lieutenant Dunn," he said.

(Two)

U.S. NAVAL HOSPITAL

PEARL HARBOR, OAHU ISLAND, TERRITORY OF HAWAII

1505 HOURS 19 JUNE 1942

When Lieutenant Colonel Dawkins pushed open the door to his room, First Lieutenant William C. Dunn was lying on his back on the bed; his bathrobe was open and his legs were spread; and he was not wearing pajama pants. Dunn was obviously not expecting visitors.

What Dawkins could see, among other things, were several bandages in the vicinity of Dunn's crotch. One of these was large, but most were not much more than Band-Aids. He could also see a half-dozen unbandaged wounds, their sutures visible, on his inner upper thighs. The whole area had been shaved and then painted with some kind of orange antiseptic.

He was almost a soprano, Dawkins thought. Whatever had come through the canopy of Dunn's Wildcat had come within inches of blowing away the family jewels. From the number of fragments, it was probably a 20mm, which exploded on contact.

Soon after the door opened, Dunn covered his midsection with the flap of his hospital issue bathrobe; and then when he saw the silver leaf on Dawkins's collar, he started to swing his legs to get out of bed.

"Stay where you are, Son," Dawkins said quickly, but too late. Dunn was already on his feet, standing at attention.

"Well, then, stand at ease," Dawkins said. "Does all that hurt very much?"

"Only when I get a hard-on, Sir," Dunn blurted, and quickly added, "Sorry, Sir. I shouldn't have said that."

"If I had been dinged in that area, and it still worked," Dawkins said, "I think I would be delighted."

"Yes, Sir," Dunn said.

"Do you know who I am, Son?"

"Yes, Sir. You gave us a little talk when we reported aboard."

"And this is my exec, Major Lorenz," Dawkins said.

Lorenz gave his hand to Dunn.

"How are you, Lieutenant?"

"Very well, thank you, Sir."

"Why don't you let me pin this thing on you," Dawkins said. "And then you get back in bed."

He took the Purple Heart Medal from a hinged metal box, pinned it to the lapel of Dunn's bathrobe, and then shook his hand.

"Thank you, Sir."

"That's the oldest medal, did you know that?" Dawkins said. "Goes back to the Revolution. Washington issued an order that anyone who had been wounded could wear a purple ribbon-and in those days that meant a real ribbon-on his uniform."

"I didn't know that, Sir," Dunn admitted.

"You have literally shed blood for your country," Dawkins said. "You can wear that with pride."

Dunn didn't reply.

"Why don't you get back in bed?"

"I'm all right, Sir. And they have been encouraging me to move around."

"They tell me you're being discharged tomorrow," Dawkins said.

"I was about to tell you that, Sir, and ask you what's next."

"You've been assigned to VMF-229," Dawkins said.

"Pending court-martial, Sir?"

"No charges have been, or will be, pressed against you, Dunn," Dawkins said.

"But they don't want me back in the squadron, right, Sir?"

"I ordered your transfer to VMF-229," Dawkins said. "The commanding officer of VMF-211 had nothing to do with that decision."

"Yes, Sir," Dunn said, on the edge of insolence, making it clear he did not believe that answer.

Dawkins felt anger swell up in him, but suppressed it.

"VMF-229 is a new squadron. It was activated today. Right now, you are half of its total strength. The commanding officer is en route from the States. I assigned you there because I wanted someone with your experience..."

"My Midway experience, Sir?" Dunn asked, just over the edge into sarcasm.