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

"You don’t?"

"I think Captain Pickering’s role is analogous to that of an aide-de-camp in the nineteenth century. Or the eighteenth. He has no command function. All he is, as aides on horseback were, is an extra set of eyes for the commander."

Captain David Haughton had originally been offended both by the way Fleming Pickering had entered the Navy-commissioned from civilian life as a captain, a rank Haughton had taken eighteen years to reach-and by the role intended for him. It had taken him a long time and a lot of thought to come up with the aide-de-camp analogy. But once he had reached it, he knew it to be the truth.

"You dropped the other shoe, Haughton," General Forrest said, "but so far I haven’t heard it."

"The Secretary feels that Captain Pickering can better perform his duties if he has some help," Haughton said carefully. "What I had hoped to get from Colonel Rickabee is an officer who could, covertly, provide that help, in addition to his intelligence duties. With the Coastwatchers, I mean."

"A junioraide-de-camp on a horse, huh?" Forrest said dryly. He looked at Colonel Rickabee.

"Banning," Rickabee said.

Forrest grunted.

"Excuse me?" Haughton asked.

"We have an officer," Forrest said, "who just might fit the ticket. He used to be the 4thMarines’ intelligence officer in Shanghai. In the Philippines, too. He went blind over there- temporarily, apparently some sort of concussion from a Japanese artillery round-and they evacuated him by submarine. He regained his sight. Just made major. Bright, tough officer. His name is Ed Banning."

"There would be few raised eyebrows in the Corps," Rickabee said, "or in the Navy, if Banning was sent to Australia with an intelligence detachment."

"You seem pretty willing to go along with Haughton," Forrest said.

"I want to get in with the Coastwatchers," Rickabee said. "I think that’s important. And this way, we get the Confidential Fund to pay for it."

"And, just incidentally, you’d like to know what Pickering is reporting to the Secretary, right?" Haughton said.

"You’re a pretty bright fellow, Haughton," General Rickabee said. "Why aren’t you a Marine?"

Haughton laughed.

"You seem rather unconcerned about the possibility that Banning would report to me what your man Pickering is up to, and that I would promptly tell the Navy," General Forrest said.

"I’ve always thought you were a pretty bright fellow yourself, General," Haughton said. "Certainly bright enough to know that would not be in your best interests."

General Forrest glared icily at Haughton for a long moment. Finally he looked at Rickabee. "You’re right, Rickabee," he said. "He is a Machiavellian sonofabitch. I like him."

The door banged open, and the waiter returned with an enormous tray heaped high with steaming lobsters.

Chapter Ten

(One)

Headquarters

U.S. Marine Corps Parachute School

Lakehurst Naval Air Station

Lakehurst, New Jersey

8 April 1942

First Lieutenant R. B. Macklin, USMC, (Acting) Commanding Officer, USMC Parachute School, had a problem. He had been directed by TWX from Headquarters USMC to furnish by TWX the names of volunteers for a special mission. The volunteers must be enlisted men of his command who met certain criteria. He was to furnish these names within twenty-four hours.

That special mission was officially described as "immediate foreign service of undetermined length; of a classified nature; and involving extraordinary hazards. Volunteers will be advised that the risk of loss of life will be high."

The criteria set forth in the TWX directed that "volunteers should be at least corporals but not higher in rank than staff sergeants; and have no physical limitations whatever.

"The ideal volunteer for this mission will be an unmarried sergeant with at least three years of service who has, in addition to demonstrated small-arms and other infantry skills, experience in a special skill such as radio communications, demolitions, rubber-boat handling, and parachuting.

"Especially desirable are volunteers with French and Japanese language fluency, oral or written. Individuals who are now performing, or in the past have performed, cryptographic duties are not eligible."

In compliance with his orders, Lieutenant Macklin had his First Sergeant gather together all the corporals, sergeants, and staff sergeants of his command in the brand-new service club, where, after warning them that the subject of the meeting was classified and was not to be discussed outside the room where they had gathered, he read them the pertinent portions of the TWX.

There were twenty-one men present. Nineteen of them lined up before the First Sergeant, and he wrote their names down on a lined pad on his clipboard.

Viewed in one way, nineteen of twenty-one eligibles volunteering for an undefined mission where "the risk of loss of life will be high," could be interpreted as one more proof that young Marine noncoms were courageous, red-blooded American patriots, eager for an opportunity to serve their country, regardless of the risk to their very lives.

Viewed in another, more realistic, way, Lieutenant Macklin was very much afraid that if he forwarded the names of all nineteen, as he had been directed, questions would be asked as to why ninety percent of his junior noncoms were willing to take such a chance. It suggested, at the very least, that they didn’t like their present assignment and would take a hell of a chance to get out of it.

And that would tend to reflect adversely on the professional reputation of First Lieutenant R. B. Macklin, USMC.

And of course, if he sent the names forward and only half of them wound up on orders, that would play havoc with the parachute training program. And if the program collapsed, that too would reflect adversely on his professional reputation.

Lieutenant Macklin was very concerned with his professional reputation, especially since Colonel Neville had jumped to his death before there had been time for him to write an efficiency report on Macklin. Macklin didn’t even know who was going to write his efficiency report, now that Neville was dead.

But he did know that unless he handled this volunteer business the right way, he was in trouble.

He flipped through the stack of service records on his desk.

Every one but two of those ungrateful, disloyal sonsofbitches volunteered! Goddamn them! Willing to leave me in a lurch like this, making me look like some Captain Bligh with a mutiny on his hands! The ungrateful bastards, after all I’ve done for them!

He wondered who the two loyal Marines were. He compared the names of the volunteers against the roster.

Staff Sergeant James P. Cumings, the mess sergeant, was one of those who had not volunteered. Cumings was in his middle thirties, a career Marine, married and with a flock of kids.

Nor had Corporal Stephen M. Koffler. He was the little sonofabitch who went AWOL and then turned out to be the first one to reach Colonel Neville’s body on The Day That It Happened.

And then he had been painted as some sort of hero and given an unjustified promotion to corporal-just because he happened to be next out of the airplane when the Colonel jumped to his death.

He was practically useless around here, too. The first sergeant had him driving a truck.

Christ, you‘d just know that the one sonofabitch you would like to get rid of would be the only one that doesn‘t want to go!

Lieutenant R. B. Macklin, USMC, tapped his pencil absently against his white china coffee cup as he thought the problem through.

The basic question, he thought, is whatis best for the Corps?

While it’s probably true that whatever these volunteers are needed for is important, I don’tknow that. What I do know is that parachutists are the wave of the future, and ergo, that the parachute school is very important, perhaps even critical, for future Marine operations in the Pacific and elsewhere. It follows logically from that that if I lose all, many, or even any of my middle-ranking noncommissioned officers to whatever it is they have volunteered for, I am setting parachute training back for however long it would take to train their replacements. I don V think I have the right to do that to the Marine Corps.