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

"I don't have any linguists I can spare, General," Rickabee said. "Wait a minute..."

"Well?"

"I found a kid at Parris Island. He was supposed to go to Quantico for a commission. But Banning wanted a linguist, so we put sergeant's stripes on him and sent him to Australia."

"He's a linguist?"

"Yes, Sir. Fluent Japanese. Reads and writes."

"How critically does Banning need a linguist?"

"I'm sure he would say he needs one desperately, Sir."

"I'm asking you."

"I think if Banning doesn't have this kid, General, and needs a linguist, he will either do it himself or he'll find someone in Australia. Secretary Knox sent Pickering's secretary over there, now that I think about it. She's a Japanese-language linguist. She's cleared for MAGIC, too."

"I presume the sergeant has had no access to MAGIC?"

"I'm sure he hasn't, Sir."

"I want his name and serial number, and the supernumerary's name and serial number. You have them, I presume?"

"Yes, Sir. Sir, the order to appoint a liaison officer between; CINCPAC and MacArthur came from the Secretary. He ; might not like having him reassigned."

"Let him make that decision. I'll make a note of what this officer is doing on the buck slip I give to the Commandant. Is there someone around here who can type it up for me? It would save me a trip to Eighth and 'I.'" "Yes, Sir. That'll be no problem."

(Four)

HEADQUARTERS, FIRST MARINE DIVISION

GUADALCANAL, SOLOMON ISLANDS

17 AUGUST 1942

Both Major General Alexander Archer Vandergrift, the division commander, and Captain Fleming Pickering, USNR (acting) Division G-2, went down to the beach when the destroyers appeared on the horizon.

Vandergrift was wearing sweat-streaked, soiled khakis and a steel helmet; and he was armed with a.45 Colt automatic pistol suspended from a web pistol belt. Pickering was wearing utilities, a utility cap, and carried a Springfield rifle in the crook of his arm. There were four destroyers.

"They're older than most of the boys, Fleming, do you realize that?" Vandergrift said to Pickering.

"I thought they looked familiar," Pickering said. "I remember seeing them." "In France?"

"No. They had some tied up in Washington state. And somewhere on the East Coast. Virginia. I remember thinking that it was a stupid idea, they'd never get them ready for sea again after tying them up for twenty years. I'm glad to see I was wrong." Vandergrift snorted.

The destroyers came in in a line. The first in line slowed; water was churning at its stern as the engines were put in reverse.

One, and then another, and finally a line of landing craft from the Lunga Boat Pool headed away from the beach toward the destroyers.

Pickering handed a pair of binoculars to General Vandergrift.

The General examined them before he put them to his eyes.

"Leitz 8x5Os," he said. "Why do I suspect these aren't issue?"

"My father gave those to me when I got my first officer's license. They don't wear out. I thought they might come in useful."

Vandergrift took the binoculars from his eyes and handed them back to Pickering.

"If the Japanese know about those destroyers, they're in trouble," he said.

Pickering looked through them at the landing craft. Each carried a half dozen Marines, most of them wearing only their undershirts. They were a work party, men taken from their units to function as stevedores.

During the planning process for this operation, the Marines had asked for sailors to manhandle supplies; but the Navy had refused. That question, he thought, would have to be resolved before the next Marine amphibious landing.

As they handed the binoculars back and forth, Pickering and Vandergrift watched sailors on the deck of the nearest destroyer unlashing 55-gallon barrels and then manhandling them to the rail. Life boat davits had been jury-rigged to lower the barrels into the landing craft.

Five minutes later, the first landing barge started for the beach.

"There's an officer standing next to the coxswain," Vandergrift said, handing the binoculars back to Pickering.

"And for the rest of his career, he can command attention in the officer's club by beginning a sentence, 'When I was on the beach at Guadalcanal...' " Pickering said.

"Fleming, have you ever heard that old saw about people who live in glass houses?" Vandergrift said.

Pickering looked at him in surprise and saw Vandergrift smiling at him.

"Touch‚, General," Pickering said.

We have become friends, Pickering thought. It didn't take long.

When the landing barge touched on the beach and dropped its ramp, a dozen Marines who had been waiting on shore went up the ramp and began rolling the 55-gallon barrels onto the beach.

The officer who had been standing next to the coxswain came ashore. When he arrived, he spoke to another officer, who looked around and then pointed to Vandergrift and Pickering.

The officer made his way up the beach to them. He was wearing a steel helmet, and he carried a pistol on a web belt. He even wore canvas puttees. His khaki uniform was starched. There was a crease in his trousers.

"Natty, wouldn't you say?" Vandergrift said softly. The officer saluted. Vandergrift and Pickering returned it. "Sir, I'm Lieutenant Goldberg. I'm executive officer of the Gregory."

"We're very glad to see you, Mr. Goldberg," Vandergrift said. "Welcome to Guadalcanal. I really regret the division band is otherwise occupied. You really deserve a serenade." "Thank you, Sir."

"What have you got for us, Mr. Goldberg?"

"Each of us is carrying 100 drums of AvGas, Sir, and eight drums of Aviation lubricants. We also have some aircraft bombs, one hundred pounders, and linked.50 caliber ammo. And there's some tools."

"Chamois? I especially asked for chamois."

"Yes, Sir, there are several cartons of chamois."

"Thank God, for that. The AvGas wouldn't have done us any good without a means to filter it."

"There's chamois, Sir," Goldberg said. "And we're carrying some tools. The Little and the Calhoun have some ground crewmen aboard, too."

"At the risk of repeating myself, Mr. Goldberg, you are very welcome indeed."

"And I have this for you, General," Goldberg said and handed Vandergrift an unsealed envelope.

Vandergrift took a sheet of paper from the envelope, glanced at it, and handed it to Pickering.

"I got my copy of this last night," he said. "I don't think you've seen it."

Pickering took it. It was a radio message, all typed in capital letters.

URGENT

SECRET

FROM: CINCPAC

TO: COMMANDER DESTROYER FORCE TWENTY INFORMATION: COMMANDING GENERAL FIRST MARINE DIVISION

1. BY DIRECTION OF THE SECRETARY OF THE NAVY YOU WILL TRANSPORT FROM YOUR DESTINATION TO

SUCH PLACE AS WILL BE LATER DIRECTED CAPTAIN FLEMING PICKERING, USNR, PRESENTLY ATTACHED HQ FIRST MARDIV.

2. YOU WILL ADVISE CINCPAC, ATTENTION: IMMEDIATE AND PERSONAL ATTENTION OF CINCPAC, WHEN

YOU HAVE SAILED FROM YOUR DESTINATION WITH CAPTAIN PICKERING ABOARD.

BY DIRECTION: D.J. WAGAM, REARADM USN

Pickering looked at Vandergrift, who smiled.

"Lieutenant Goldberg, may I present Captain Pickering?" Vandergrift said.

"How do you do, Sir?" Goldberg said. His surprise was evident. He had not expected to see a Navy Captain in Marine Corps utilities, carrying a Springfield rifle like a hunter.

"I think I've just been sandbagged, as a matter of fact," Pickering said.

"That boat is about ready to go back out to the Gregory, Captain Pickering. Don't you think you had better get on it? I'm sure her captain wants to get underway as soon as possible."

Pickering didn't reply.

"Major Stecker was good enough to pack your gear, Captain," Vandergrift said, and pointed to the landing barge.