W.E.B. Griffin - The Corps 03 - Counterattack

When he got to Lakehurst, of course, the airplane wasn’t there. And it was only after frantic telephone calls to Colonel Hershberger and Willow Grove that he was able to put his worries about that to rest. Hershberger told him the plane had made a precautionary landing at Willow Grove. And then Willow Grove told him there was nothing wrong with the airplane, and that it was on The Board for an 0430 takeoff.

It was vital for the R4D to arrive. It had to be a Marine airplane doing the dropping for the press people’s cameras- nota Navy airplane. Neville would not lie about it, but he had no intention of volunteering the information to the press people that Navy pilots, flying Navy R4Ds, actually had done all the dropping of Marine parachutists at Lakehurst so far.

Colonel Neville was convinced that if things went well today, their future would be secure-presuming, of course, that it all resulted in Life magazine doing one of their spreads on Marine parachutists, and that the spread showed Marine parachutists in a good light. On the other hand, if things did not go well, it could be a fatal blow to Vertical Envelopment within the Marine Corps.

Consequently, a lot of thought and planning and effort had gone into preparing everything and everybody for the visit of the Life photojournalists to Lakehurst. The public-relations people at Marine Corps headquarters had been enthusiastic and cooperative, which was more than could be said for some other people in the head shed.

The Deputy Chief of Public Relations, Headquarters USMC, a full colonel named Lenihan, had told him that he had assigned the task of publicizing the demonstration jump to Major Jake Dillon, who would head a team of nine public-relations specialists.

"You’ve heard of Dillon, of course, haven’t you, Neville?" Colonel Lenihan asked.

Neville searched his mind, but could come up with no recollection of a major or a captain named Dillon.

"No, Sir, I don’t think so."

"Metro-Magnum Pictures," Colonel Lenihan said, significantly.

Metro-Magnum Pictures was a major Hollywood studio.

"Sir?"

"Dillon was Chief of Publicity for Metro-Magnum," Colonel Lenihan said. "He just came on active duty. Amazing fellow. Knows all the movie stars. He introduced me to Bette Davis at the Willard Hotel last night."

"Is that so?" Neville replied. He wondered if this Major Dillon could arrange for a movie star to be present at Lakehurst. Bringing somebody like Bette Davis there, or even Lana Turner or Betty Grable, would get his Para-Marines in the newsreels.

Major Dillon’s public relations team had come to Lakehurst two days before. The team had two staff cars, two station wagons, and a jeep. The tiny vehicle, officially called a "Truck, 1/4 Ton 4X4," had just entered the service. Neville had seen one in the newsreels-it was actually flying through the air-but this was the first one he had ever seen in person. The team also included four photographers, two still and two motion-picture.

When Colonel Neville mentioned his notion of asking some beauty like Lana Turner to the demonstration, Major Dillon, a stocky, crewcut man in his middle thirties, explained that he didn’t think that publicizing the Marine parachutists was the sort of job that required teats and thighs to get good coverage.

"I really don’t want to sound as if I’m trying to tell you your job-" Colonel Neville began, convinced that the presence of a gorgeous star would insure a public-relations coup.

"Then don’t," Dillon interrupted.

"I’m not sure I like your tone of voice, Major."

"Colonel, I think you’re going to have to trust me to do my job. If you don’t like the way I’m doing things, you get on the horn and tell Colonel Lenihan. He’s the only one I take orders from."

Franklin G. Neville considered the situation quickly, and forced a smile.

"No offense, Major. I was just trying to be helpful."

Later, Major Dillon explained to Neville that the still photographers would back up the Life photographers; they’d make the pictures they took available to the magazine in case it missed something. After a seven-day "embargo," the pictures Life didn’t want would be made available to the press generally.

The motion-picture film would be taken to Washington, processed, reviewed, and after the same seven-day embargo to preserve Life’s exclusivity, it would be made available to the various newsreel companies.

Dillon brought with him three Marine "correspondents," two corporals and a sergeant, supervised by a lieutenant. They had prepared a "press background packet," which included a history of parachuting generally, and of Marine parachuting in some detail. There were short biographies of Lieutenant Colonel Neville and Lieutenant Macklin, together with eight-by-ten-inch official glossy photographs of them.

All of this served to impress Colonel Neville with Major Dillon’s expertise. It even caused Neville to realize that he would best forget the little flare-up he’d had with the Major over inviting a Hollywood star to the demonstration.

Besides, Colonel Neville was feeling pretty pleased with himself in general. Everything was going well. And everything at the school itself was shipshape. In a remarkably short time, the ex-Parris Island drill instructors had done marvels in establishing standards of discipline and dress that were appropriate for the men Neville considered "the elite of the elite." In Neville’s view, if Marines were by definition disciplined military men, Marine parachutists had to strive to reach even higher standards.

The Major, of course, wanted to go a bit further in helping the press than Major Dillon was prepared to go; and the Major had to caution him that in his experience, it was possible to "direct" the attention of the press, especially high-class places like Life, only so far.

"If they begin to feel they’re getting a snow job," Major Dillon said, "they start looking for what’s hidden under the rocks. The best way to deal with them is to make yourself useful but not pushy, and to somehow convince them that what you want publicized is something they discovered themselves."

Major Dillon, his lieutenant, and Lieutenant Macklin were going to meet the press people at the Lakehurst gate when they drove over from New York City. Colonel Neville decided that it would be beneath his dignity as Director of Marine Corps Parachuting to be at the gate himself.

The press people would then be taken to his office, where coffee and doughnuts would be served. Following that, Lieutenant Macklin would brief them. Neville attended a rehearsal briefing, made a few small suggestions, and then approved it.

The press would then be taken on a tour of the school’s facilities. The tour would demonstrate how the school was turning Marines into Para-Marines. Neville intended to use that term, even though he had specific directions not to do so. He thought it was honestly descriptive and had a certain flair to it-and he was convinced that once it had appeared in Life, it would become part of the language.

Then there would be luncheon in the enlisted men’s mess.

Neville would have preferred to feed the press people in the officers’ club, but Major Jake Dillon argued that the press liked to eat with the troops. In the event, that really posed no problems. Lieutenant Macklin directed the mess sergeant to move up the stuffed-pork chop, mashed-potato, and apple-cobbler supper to the noon meal. The troops could eat the bologna sandwiches originally scheduled for the noon meal at supper, after the press people had gone.

At 1245 hours, the press would be taken to the far side of the airfield to witness their first parachute drop. Chairs, a table, and a coffee thermos would be set up for their convenience. The Marine R4D from Quantico would have been dropping parachutists, four times, during the morning. It would probably have been better to show the press people a jump before they toured the school facilities, so that then they’d know the object of the whole thing; but Neville had insisted on scheduling the demonstration drop for 1245, so that the R4D crew would have a chance to practice.