W.E.B. Griffin - The Corps IV - Battleground
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- Название:The Corps IV - Battleground
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"Sergeant," Pickering said after a moment, "I'm going to leave you here for a while. Lie down on my bed. Help yourself to some of the whiskey, if you want. But I think that some other officers will want to talk to you, so go easy with the whiskey."
That's so much bullshit. Debriefing should be performed by Intelligence Officers. All of ours are now dead.
"Jake, you stay with him. I'm going to see General Vandergrift."
"Aye, aye, Sir."
Chapter Sixteen
(One)
HEADQUARTERS, 1ST MARINE DIVISION
GUADALCANAL
2305 HOURS 12 AUGUST 1942
"I'd like to see the General, please," Captain Fleming Pickering said to the sergeant in the Division Command Post.
"He's in there, Sir," the sergeant said, pointing, "with Colonel Hunt. I'll see if he can see you."
Colonel Guy Hunt was the regimental commander of the 5th Marines.
If he's here, Pickering reasoned, he knows what has happened.
"Keep your seat, Sergeant," Pickering said, and walked into Vandergrift's office.
Both Hunt and Vandergrift looked with annoyance at Pickering when he walked in. Officers, even Navy Captains, do not enter the "office" of the commanding general of the 1st Marine Division without permission.
Vandergrift met Pickering's eyes.
"For reasons I suspect you already know, Captain," Vandergrift said after a moment, "please consider yourself the acting G-2 of this division."
Oh, shit! I am no more qualified to be the Division G-2 than I am to flap my wings and fly.
"Aye, aye, Sir."
"I know you know Colonel Hunt, Pickering. Do you know Marine Gunner Rust?" (Marine Gunners were almost always veteran Master Gunnery Sergeants promoted to warrant officer rank.)
"No, Sir."
"Rust, this is Captain Pickering. He and Jack NMI Stecker were at Belleau Wood together."
"I know the captain by reputation," Rust said and gave Pickering his hand.
"How much do you know about what's happened to Goettge's patrol, Pickering?" Vandergrift asked.
"I just finished talking to Sergeant Sellers, Sir. He swam back with Sergeant Arndt."
"Sellers?" Master Gunner Rust asked.
"He's one of Major Dillon's combat correspondents," Pickering explained.
"Christ, another feather merchant who went along!" Rust exploded.
"A technician, maybe," Pickering heard himself say, angrily. "Or a specialist. But feather merchants, in my book, are those who head in the other direction from the sound of the guns."
Rust glowered at Pickering for a moment, and then shrugged.
"I beg the captain's pardon," Rust said.
"Not mine," Pickering said. "I know I'm a feather merchant. But that Four-Months-in-the-Corps Hollywood photographer has no apologies to make for his behavior on this patrol."
Pickering glanced at Vandergrift and found the general's serious eyes on his.
"Speaking of this patrol, Pickering," Vandergrift said, "we were just discussing the possibility of sending a patrol out to look for survivors. What's your feeling about that?"
"Sir, I don't feel qualified to..."
"I make the decisions about who is and who is not qualified to offer an opinion, Captain. I asked for yours."
"Based on what Sergeant Sellers told me, I don't think there will be many survivors, if any," Pickering said. "And I would presume the Japanese will be waiting for us to do something. At night, Sir, in my opinion, it would be suicidal. I think we could, should, send a strong patrol over there at first light."
"I agree," Vandergrift said. "I appreciate the offer, Rust, but that makes it three to one against your idea."
"Yes, Sir," Rust said.
"You can head it up yourself, Rust, if you like," Vandergrift said. He turned to Colonel Hunt. "All right with you, Guy?"
"Yes, Sir. A strong patrol, Rust. They'll be expecting you."
"Aye, aye, Sir."
"Guy, why don't you and Rust go set it up?" Vandergrift said. "Let me know before you take off. I want a word with Captain Pickering."
Hunt and Rust left the room. Then Colonel Hunt returned. He offered his hand to Pickering.
"Good luck, Captain," he said. "Thank God we have somebody like you to step into the breach."
"Thank you, Sir," Pickering said.
Hunt left again. Pickering looked at Vandergrift.
"That was gracious and flattering," Pickering said. "But I am not qualified to step into Goettge's shoes."
"You weren't listening carefully, Captain," Vandergrift said. "The operative words were 'somebody like you to step into the breach.' I don't have anyone else. You don't expect to lose your division G-2 like this. Nor the 5th Marines' G-2, who would have been my choice for a temporary replacement."
"I'll do my best, Sir. But you need a professional."
"I'll send a radio asking for one, of course," Vandergrift said. "But until he arrives, or until I have to order you off the island, you're it."
"I'll need some help, Sir."
"Jack Stecker? Am I reading your mind?"
"Yes, Sir."
Major Jack NMI Stecker had commanded 2nd Battalion, 5th Marines, when they invaded Tulagi. During the battle, Stecker had personally taken out a sniper-in-a-bunker who had been holding up the 2nd Battalion's advance by standing in the open and shooting him, offhand, in the head from a distance of 200 yards. The story had not surprised Pickering when he heard it.
"General Harris won't like losing Stecker, but he'll have to live with it. Tulagi is secure, and Stecker will be of more value to the division working with you here. I'll send a boat to Tulagi at first light to fetch him. He's not going to be happy about it, either, but that's the way it's going to have to be."
"What he really won't like is working for me," Pickering chuckled. "In France, in 1918, he was my sergeant when I was a corporal."
Vandergrift looked at Pickering, and then smiled. "I think they call that the fortunes of war, Captain," he said, in mock solemnity, and then went on, changing the subject, "There's something I feel I should tell you: How well do you-perhaps that should be, 'did you'-know Lieutenant Cory?"
"You're speaking of the 5th Marines Japanese language officer?" Vandergrift nodded. "Not well, Sir."
"He is another of your Four-Months-in-the-Corps Marines, Pickering. He came in April. Direct commission. He was previously employed by the Navy. In Washington. Something to do with communications intelligence. Something hush-hush. I received a special message about him. I was directed to take whatever action was necessary to keep him from falling into Japanese hands."
"Jesus!" Pickering said, not aware he had spoken.
My God, he might have known about MAGIC! What idiot assigned him to an infantry regiment here?
"From your reaction, I gather you might know what that's all about," Vandergrift said. " 'Whatever action' was not defined. Did it mean that I should make an effort to see that he did not go on patrols like this one? Or was more unpleasant action on my part suggested?"
"Sir, there are some classified matters which would justify any action to keep people privy to them out of enemy hands."
"Are you in that category, Captain?"
"Yes, Sir."
"Then it won't be necessary for me to tell you not to put yourself in a position where you might fall into enemy hands, will it?"
"No, Sir."
"Unless there's something else going on that I don't know about, I think the thing for you and me to do is try to get some sleep. There's nothing else that can be done about Goettge and his people tonight."
"Yes, Sir," Pickering said. "Sir, is our communications in to Pearl Harbor?"
"As far as I know."
"I have a message to send," Pickering said. "I have authority, Sir..."
"I know all about your authority, Pickering: You don't have to ask my permission to radio the Secretary of the Navy, and I don't have the authority to ask what you're saying to him."
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