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

There were two North American Texans in the landing pattern.

"There are my other aircraft," Colonel Neville announced. "Mr. Ward, will you give my compliments to their pilots, and ask them to join me in my office as soon as possible? And bring this officer and the sergeant with you."

(Two)

The shit,thought Technical Sergeant Charles Galloway, is about to hit the fan.

He rose, very reluctantly, to his feet.

"You have a question, Sergeant?" Lieutenant Richard B. Macklin asked. He had just finished explaining, with the help of a blackboard and a pointer, where the Texans would fly relative to the R4D, so that the still and motion-picture photographers could capture the Para-Marines jumping from the R4D’s door.

"Sir, that would be dangerous," Charley said.

"Would it, now?" Macklin asked, smiling but sarcastic.

"Sir, one aircraft flying close to the R4D is dangerous enough. Two are too dangerous."

"Would you care to explain your position?"

"Yes, Sir. I’ll be flying the R4D-"

"That hasn’t been decided yet," Lieutenant Colonel Neville said.

"Sir, whoever is flying the R4D will have enough trouble keeping his eye on one Texan. It would impossible to keep an eye on both of them, if they were flying close enough to take pictures."

"And?" Macklin asked, now clearly sarcastic. "Are you suggesting that they would fly into you, Sergeant?" He looked at the two Texan pilots, both lieutenants junior grade, and smiled at them. "I’m sure these officers are skilled enough not to do that."

"I’m more concerned about dropping the paratroops-"

"Para-Marines,"Colonel Neville said.

"-into the flight path of one of the Texans," Charley finished.

"That’s our concern, Sergeant, isn’t it?"

"No, Sir, with respect, it’s mine," Charley said.

"Galloway," one of the Naval Aviators said, "believe me, I intend to stay as far away from you as I can."

Galloway smiled at him, but didn’t reply.

"I presume your concerns have been put to rest, Sergeant?" Lieutenant Macklin said.

"No, Sir," Charley said. "With respect, they haven’t."

"What exactly are you saying, Sergeant?" Colonel Neville asked.

"Sir . . . Sir, if you put two Texans near my aircraft at the same time, I won’t drop your paratroops."

"Then we won’t burden you with that responsibility, Sergeant. Lieutenant Schneider will pilot the R4D. I can see no necessity for you even to be aboard."

"Sir, Lieutenant Schneider is not qualified to drop parachutists. I won’t authorize him to do so."

"Well, we’ll just see about that, Sergeant," Neville flared. "We’ll see who’s authorized to give-or refuse-orders around here. Will you all wait outside, please? Macklin, get Colonel Hershberger on the telephone. Make it a priority call."

Four minutes later, Lieutenant Macklin appeared in the door to Lieutenant Colonel Neville’s office and beckoned for Galloway to come inside.

"Colonel Hershberger wishes to speak with you, Sergeant," he said.

Galloway picked up the telephone that was lying on its side on Neville’s desk. As he did so, he saw Neville pick up an extension and cover the mouthpiece with his hand.

"Sergeant Galloway, Sir."

"You didn’t waste any time stirring things up, did you, Charley?"

"I’m sorry about this, Sir."

"Tell me about the filthy airplane."

"They drained the oil from the port engine at Willow Grove, Sir. They spilled some. It got on the nacelle and wing and picked up crud when I moved the aircraft."

"Tell me about Willow Grove," Hershberger said. "Was that necessary?"

"I was attempting to avoid a storm I had reason to think might be in the Lakehurst area, Sir," Charley said. He stole a quick look at Neville, and saw that he hadn’t picked up on that.

"OK," Colonel Hershberger said, after a barely perceptible pause which told Charley that Hershberger had correctly interpreted his reply. "So tell me about the Texans."

"I don’t want two of them off my tail when I’m dropping parachutists, Colonel."

"Neville says you refused to fly with any Texans around you."

"No, Sir. I can keep my eye on one of them. Two are too dangerous."

"Anything else you want to say?"

"No, Sir."

"Get Colonel Neville back on the line, please, Charley."

"Sir," Charley heard his mouth run away with him, "the Colonel has been on an extension all the time."

"Hang your phone up, then, Charley," Colonel Hershberger said, pleasantly enough, after a moment. "I want a private word with Colonel Neville."

Charley put the telephone back in its cradle and started to leave the office. But Lieutenant Macklin hissed at him that he had not been dismissed. So Charley assumed the at-ease position facing Lieutenant Colonel Neville’s desk, and was thus witness to the conversation between Hershberger and Neville. Both sides were audible, because Colonel Hershberger seemed to be talking considerably louder to Colonel Neville than he had to Charley.

Both Lieutenant Macklin and Sergeant Galloway pretended, however, not to hear what Colonel Hershberger said. They both knew that it was an embarrassment for a senior officer to be referred to as a "pompous asshole" by an even more senior officer in the hearing of his subordinates. And it got worse: Colonel Hershberger went on to say-actually shout-that Neville was not only unfit to wear a lieutenant colonel’s silver leaf, but the Marine uniform, period. Any officer who calculatedly lied in order to get in trouble a good Marine sergeant who was just obeying his orders was worse than contemptible.

Lieutenant Colonel Neville’s replies to Colonel Hershberger were a number of brief and muted "Yes, Sirs."

When Lieutenant Colonel Neville finally hung up, Charley shifted from "at ease" to "parade rest" (head erect, eyes looking six inches above Colonel Neville, hands folded smartly together in the small of the back), and stayed that way for a very long sixty seconds.

Finally, Lieutenant Colonel Neville said, "That will be all, Sergeant. Thank you."

Charley Galloway popped to attention, did a smart about-face, and marched out of Neville’s office.

(Three)

PFC Stephen M. Koffler, USMC, participated in three parachute jumps on the day everybody involved was to remember for a very long time as "the day it happened."

They were his eighth, ninth, and tenth parachute jumps. His first five jumps had been performed as a student. Four of these had been during daylight, and the fifth at night, all onto what Lieutenant Colonel Franklin G. Neville had named Drop Zone Wake, in memory of the heroic Marine defense of Wake Island.

Drop Zone Wake was in fact an area between the runways in the center of the Lakehurst airfield. It was marked out with white tape and little flags on stakes.

According to what he had been told when he began the course, he would be rated as a Marine Parachutist after he had successfully completed his fifth jump, a night drop. That hadn’t happened. Lieutenant R. B. Macklin, who was the Deputy Commandant of the Marine Parachute School, had announced that Colonel Neville had decided to postpone the ceremony during which Parachutists’ wings would be awarded until 14 February. On that day, a team of civilian (from Life magazine) and Marine Corps journalists would be at Lakehurst, Lieutenant Macklin told them; Colonel Neville thought the journalists might want to photograph the ceremony.

Meanwhile, PFC Steve Koffler had changed his mind about wanting to be a Para-Marine. He was now convinced that volunteering for parachute duty was about the dumbest thing he had ever done in his life. Really dumb: there was a very good chance that he was going to get killed long before he got near a Japanese soldier.

He had begun to form that opinion long before he made his first jump. For starters, the physical training the trainees had gone through made the physical training at Parris Island look like a walk through a park.